Captive Of The Warg, (Wargs of the Outland #2)

The Death of Fire

The burn in Reia's lungs was sharp. She had to stop. But she feared, once she did, she wouldn't get up again. Even so, she collapsed against a tree, the bark scraping flesh from her brow. The roar of the wind blunted her wheezing, but not enough to go unnoticed if there was a beast nearby. Every strident breath was like a horn blast. Each grating inhale notched her dread.

The ice in her waterskin hadn't fully melted, but she dribbled what she could onto her tongue. Once she'd stowed it back in her cloak, she glanced down at Basil. He stood pressed against her wobbly leg, his ribs flaring with shallow breaths.

She wanted to tell him they couldn't stop long. They had to keep moving. But she had no breath to spare and her tongue felt like old leather in her mouth.

What the fuck am I doing? She had no idea what time it was. In a sea of snow, not a drop of water. Not a chance she'd live past tomorrow. For a piercing moment, she regretted leaving Ruinik's Hek. She didn't want to die a martyr. She didn't want to die at all. But it was too late for regrets now.

Her limbs shook, ice dropping like lead into her gut. She clamped her mitts into Basil's coat, steadying herself against him. Slow and careful, she unsheathed the dagger from her boot. Then she held the torch aloft, flinching as the wind threatened to snuff it. Her eyes scoured the moving shadows, tracing snow banks for any sign of squirrels or rabbits. Something she could focus her pent-up terror on. The steely length of her dagger in her hand and the purpose in her heart served to dull her fear somewhat. She moved her light, tracking its pale arc over the ice.

To her right, she noticed an uneven mound where towering granite pierced up through the snow. Heat swam in her eyes as she raced towards it, her muscles tight and giddy. The torchlight danced over the boulders, bare where the wind clawed the ice. The small flame basked the formation in tepid light, all except where inky shadow filled the void at its base. A tunnel!

She tried to edge closer but halted as Basil pressed himself against her, still panting. His tail was stiff between his hind legs, his body shivering. There was a wild look in his eyes as he searched the canopy overhead. In his gaze was a look she'd never seen. Her heart splintered like glass as the wolf growled low in his belly. A feral, bloodless sound.

Tremors shook her hand as she lowered her torch. She planted it in the snow at the mouth of the narrow tunnel. A clammy chill rushed onto her brow. Stumbling, she latched onto her wolf with one hand, the other tightening on her dagger hilt.

After turning in a full circle, she shushed him. If there was something threatening close by, then the cub's growls would draw it in. Despite her command, he growled again. His lips splayed back from his fangs, his body rigid.

Another screech filled the darkness. The same bird she'd heard earlier? A third screech crashed through the trees, this one ominous. It shuddered through her bones, deep and loud. Something colossal. Something close. Sudden flapping overhead jerked her gaze high, searching the trees. The fine hairs on her arms shot up. A sharp gust blasted down from the treetops. More awful flapping preceded the gusts.

Basil's growls intensified.

Reia lurched back, gaping up at the swirling, starless dark. She was about to shush the wolf again, but she never got the chance. The trees bashed in sudden fury, branches knocking. Another screech erupted and a billowing black shadow dropped down upon her. A dark blur of leathery wings outstretched. A long vicious beak stabbed the snow inches from Reia's boots. She screamed and fell backward, slashing her dagger. Her jabs flew wild.

Blood clobbered in her skull. Somewhere in the chaos, she heard Basil's high-pitched yowl. Hysterical barking filled the night. The creature was monstrous, its boney wings slashing like blades.