Page 63 of Clash of Storms
He should have been turning his rage upon his foes, but all he wanted to do was touch her. Stroke her. Make sure she was real.
"Where are we?" Malin whispered.
Nearby, he sensed the earth shudder as if something awoke.
Time to give the devil his dues.
"We're paying Lord Fáfnir a visit," he murmured, trying to summon a smile. "If we get out of here without him eating either of us, I'll consider it a good day."
14
The steam from the bubbling mud pools cut visibility severely.
Sirius sequestered Malin in a small gap between rocks, where nobody would be able to see her. "Stay here," he whispered, sensing a pair ofdrekiland nearby. "I need room to move."
He'd lost his sword. His knives. His clothes.
And he was no less dangerous for it.
Now he was stripped to the skin, stripped to all the raw barbarity of his nature.
He'd worn a civilized mask for years, maneuvering around the court, skirting its edges. Nodrekimale dared challenge him for fear of his reputation, and he'd disdained to fight his way through endless challenges the way Roar and his coterie did.
Sirius had no need to prove himself.
So he'd never truly faced his bastard brother in combat.
Moredrekilanded in the gloom, thwarted by the hovering density of steam. Lightning flickered on the edges of the basin, but Sirius locked his powers down small and tight, moving through the steam like a hunter.
This was not the moment for Sirius.
No, this was the Blackfrost in all his glory.
Murderous. Dangerous. And ruthless.
He caught a glimpse of his first target.
A heart beat a wretched gold as Guthrum shrank down into mortal form, completely oblivious to the predator who stalked him.
The warrior bent to haul his clothes out of his travel bag, his sword resting in its scabbard at his side.
The others were out there somewhere. He couldn't afford a single outcry.
So Sirius allowed the power of the shift to wash through him, holding himself on the knife-edge ofdrekiand man andtwistingthe power. Bones aching, muscle shifting, he felt his face change shapes, his body morphing into another's form.
There were old tales of skin shifters among thedreki, but it was an extremely rare talent.
Straightening to his new height, he worked his mouth to stretch the muscles, and then stalked out of the fog.
Guthrum gave him a startled look, and then visibly relaxed. "Tiamat's tits. You scared the shit out of me. Thought you was the Blackfrost."
The one issue with being able to wear another's form was the voice.
Sirius smiled.
Guthrum dragged his trousers on. "What's the plan? Attack the Blackfrost? Grab the girl?"
"Something like that," he said, kicking Guthrum's scabbard up into his hand and drawing the sword.
