Page 60 of Blood of the Fallen
Nirliq was still there, clinging, biting.
I glanced down and started to tell her to let go when I noticed her face was a mix of her wolf and human features. They flickered back and forth, glitching like a bad special effect.
What?! What was happening? Was the spell they were using to stop us from shifting wearing out? To test my theory, I called my wolf forward, but nothing happened. If that wasn’t it, what was happening to Nirliq?
My attention flicked back to Val who was still trying to free the sword from the staff as we grappled. His arms and my arms trembled. Gazes locked, we stayed like that for what felt like an eternity. My thoughts reeled, trying to understand, then the realization came.
“It’s you!” I exclaimed. “You’re doing this.”
The night they tried to burn me at the stake flashed through my mind. A howl of pain, birds fleeing from the trees in a panic, Val’s knife in Kall’s eye, and Kall falling to the ground and shifting back to his human along with Maki and Novuk.
Val shook his head, his expression giving nothing away. “Don’t be stupid,” he spat.
I hesitated but only for an instant. Val had always been a good liar. But I didn’t need to sit here arguing with him. I would prove it.
Reaching for his neck, I clawed my fingers into his flesh. When I felt the warmth of his blood, I called my wolf and felt it wriggling inside of me, fighting to come forward. I was right. Val had some sort of magic that allowed him to block our shifting abilities. The knowledge must’ve shown in my expression because he growled in anger and, rallying his strength, Val pushed me off.
I staggered backward but didn’t let go of the staff. Val did his best to hold on to his sword, but it was well embedded in the wood. Jerking my weapon back, I relieved Val of the blade.
“Damn bitch!” he growled, leaning down and swinging a blow at Nirliq’s face.
“No!” I screamed.
Like a small rag doll, the girl fell limp to the ground, her eyes closed, her expression slack.
“What have you done, you monster?”
Val limped away from her discarded body.
I ran to her, dragging the staff and pinned sword behind me, and fell to my knees in front of her. “Please, please!” I begged, searching for any signs to let me know she was alive.
“Nirliq!” I leaned closer, then pressed two fingers to her throat. There was a pulse. Relief washed over me.
She’s fine. She’s fine. She’s fine.
Anger descended over me like a storm. Body trembling, I rose to my feet.
Val was standing several yards away, a hand pressed to his neck, his gaze on the little girl at my feet. There seemed to be an edge of horror in his expression, like a part of him couldn’t believe what he’d done to the poor, defenseless child.
“She’s alive,” I said.
Relief seemed to run through him, and I was reminded of my friend. But, too quickly, he was replaced by the cold, unscrupulous man he’d become. Even if there was a small part of him that could still tell right from wrong, the bulk of who he was didn’t give a damn.
“But, in a moment, you won’t be,” I said.
Throwing the staff to the ground, I put a foot on it and freed the sword. I held it in front of me and stepped over Nirliq, approaching Val. He reached into his cloak and produced a dagger.
Some of his bitter iciness seemed to seep into me as I moved closer, and as I took another step, I saw how I would kill him and realized that the thought of his death made me feel nothing—not when it meant allowing the pack to shift and saving them. Before, I had wanted to spare him, let him live. But now, I understood that wasn’t an option. Perhaps, I could have forgiven him for my suffering at the stake, but I could never forgive him for hurting Nirliq and the pack.
Coldly, like the trained killer the Academy had created, I went for Val, sword aimed expertly. I moved fast, giving him almost no opportunity to react. The sword struck the dagger, and as I whirled my wrist, the small weapon went flying from his hand, getting lost in a tangled bramble. He took a step back and smacked into a tree.
His gaze lowered to the tip of the sword as I pressed it to his chest. His lower lip trembled, and for an instant, I thought he would ask for mercy, but then his jaw set, and he raised his chin as if proud of what he’d done here.
“I thought maybe you would’ve liked to die with a clear conscience,” I said. “But I guess not.”
I stabbed the sword into his heart and pushed until it struck the tree.
A choking sound issued from deep in his throat as blood bubbled from his lips. The light went from his eyes by degrees, and when he went limp, I pulled the sword out and watched him slump to the ground, not a trace of regret in my heart.
