Page 61 of Wolf's Bane
Icy dread washed over her. Two monsters, on a night that should have been safe. Nothing she thought she knew about the world made sense, but it did not matter because even if her brother arrived, he couldn’t fight off two beasts.
Grass, dirt, and blood from a split lip filled her mouth. She stretched out a bloody hand to the nearest stone, the smooth surface vibrating at the touch, which had to be head trauma. The stones did not vibrate. The stones did not do much of anything, actually. They predated humans’ arrival. No one knew who built them, but the why became obvious. Each stone circle marked a nexus point.
Solenne once read an old-world fairy story about how a fairy could be summoned in an ancient stone circle to grant wishes. A fanciful child, she left offerings of bread and milk. No fairies arrived to grant wishes.
Her fingers tingled as they brushed the unnaturally cold stone. The unknown makers polished the surface to a machine-smoothed finish. Exposure to the elements had not left a scratch.
All she offered was blood and terror. If she could have one wish, it would be for Luis to stay away. She didn’t want to die alone, but she refused to die with her brother. He would live.
If the universe was so kind as to grant two wishes, she wanted to tell Alek she loved him.
Aleksandar
An unnatural silence followed Alek. At least it had until yesterday, when birdsong and the hum of insects and scurrying of small animals returned.
A week he spent on a fool’s quest teasing the Fallkirk beast. It would chase him for half a day, then retreat to its territory. Alek persisted, determined to lure the beast, and believed he had succeeded. He felt it watching him, hidden in the forest and silent. The only clue to its presence was the absolute lack of noise from any other living animal. The creature had learned caution since their last encounter, when it had impulsively attacked the coach.
Yesterday it retreated, and he could not pick up the trail. Exhausted down to his bones, missing his mate, he returned home when the last of his provisions ran out.
Recognizing home, the horse picked up the pace. He couldn’t blame it for being eager to return home. He was miserable company at the best of times, and a week of camping rough left him feeling sour and stinking.
“Looking forward to a bed of fresh hay?” He gave the horse a pat on the neck. It was an excellent animal with a calm, even temperament. Most horses, he discovered, were initially skittish around him, no doubt because of his curse.
After he tended to the horse, he planned to dump a bucket of cool water over his head to rinse away the worst of the grime before sinking into a bath.
A scream pierced the night. He knew it at once.
Solenne.
The connection between them pulsed with fear, much as it had the night of the solstice.
He urged the horse to go faster, growling in frustration. The horse flicked its ears back. The shift was upon him, brought on by his mate’s distress.
Unable to navigate the forest quick enough for his liking, he leaped from the saddle and abandoned the horse.
When his feet hit the ground, he was fully shifted.
Solenne
Snarls and growls filled the air. She tensed, expecting a bite. Hopefully she’d bleed out quickly. Once, long ago, she saw the remains of a person torn apart by a cursed monster. There had been little left for identification as the face had been too badly beaten. Their boots had identified the unfortunate victim.
The image haunted her sleep for weeks. The savagery of it, teeth biting and tearing meat until only bloody pulp remained. That was not hunting for sustenance. That was cruelty for the pleasure of cruelty.
She hoped her monster was hungry and not in the mood to toy with his food.
A high-pitched squeal of pain pierced through her panic. She scrambled backward until her back hit the giant stone slab.
Two beasts wrestled, all tooth and claw. The challenger was massive, towering above her attacker. A distant, detached part of her mind wondered if age factored into the size of the beast. That same cool detachment catalogued the heavy scarring on the challenger. She had seen them before.
The beast lunged for Solenne, getting close enough for her to feel his hot breath. The challenger sank his claws into the beast’s back and tore him away.
Hands distorted into claws swiped. Skin tore. Blood matted the fur. Teeth—so many teeth—sank into flesh. A pained cry ripped through the night, amplified by the stones, and the beast ran away.
The challenger reared back and gave a roar of triumph, the blood of his opponent on his face. He turned toward Solenne, eyes glowing violet. The shift distorted his face, making his brows heavy, excessive teeth pushing his lips back in a permanent snarl.
She kept returning to those eyes.
Solenne’s entire existence narrowed down to that moment. Nothing human remained in those eyes. They were vacant, a luminous swirl of chaos.
