A heinous fucking plague.
Their stubby snouts are splashed red, an arsenal of fangs dripping their plunder. They’re prowling in a tight, snarling circle around a muddy dome—a perfect half-sphere dumped in the rubble.
I tilt my head to the side, nostrils flaring.
One of them rears up, long, lethal talons punching from his paws before he shifts his weight and slashes at the dome. Sparks burst and that shrill etching makes me want to gouge my ears.
More ferocious snarls and howls score the air. The largest of the three dips his head, stamps his nose to the surface of the peculiar object, androars.
Chaotic, feral frustration ...
And well distracted targets.
I untether the remaining threads of my wrath and stalk forward on feet that barely seem to touch the ground, whipping my blade through the smoke. The first head slides off bulky shoulders, but I don’t wait for the beast to fall. I’ve already dropped and spun—the second Vruk yowling as I drag my sword through his stomach, releasing a spill of innards that steam the icy air.
Quick, clean deaths.
If only they’d given Aravyn the same consideration.
I seize the alpha’s attention, his savage gaze charging into me. The air between us stiffens, and I lift my chin slightly.
The mutt leaps forward, teeth bared and talons spread, a fetid roar staining the air. His head rolls before he has the chance to blink again; the thick, muscular neck yielding to the same metallic kiss that took his fated brethren.
He drops like a boulder, liquid death squirting in rhythm with his failing heart as I release a sharp breath ...
“Shit.”
Killing has a taint, and Ireekof it. Doubt I’ll ever be able to wash off the stench. But this world is not merciful, and neither am I.
Not anymore.
Weapon swiped on my coat, I resheathe it down my spine and shift my attention to the dome now greased in a layer of steaming Vruk gore. I crouch to study the strange object, sweeping a hand through the mess, revealing a crystal-like veneer that seems to shimmer with its own light source.
But that’s not what turns my lungs to stone.
Through the reflection of writhing flames and my pinched expression, I can see a child no older than two, clothed in mud and ash and scraps of burnt linen. Her eyes are squeezed shut, hands bracketing her ears as she rocks, face twisted in a silent scream.
I spot her ear poking out through that mess of filthy, soot-stained curls, my eyes widening at the streak of fine, incandescent thorns lining the shell ...
Aravyn had a second child.
The weight in my pocket grows heavy, forcing my knees to the dirt.
S-save her. P-please.
I drag my hand down my face.
Those words are just as hungry as my curiosity. This tinyAeshlian... she’s fossilizing her light, using it as a defense mechanism.
An impossibility.
Is she a crossbreed? Did Aravyn seek warmth in someone else’s bed?
I scour the clearing of wide-eyed corpses for any witnesses. Only the shadows watch, collecting along the tree line that circles the devastation like a noose.
Irilak.Hundredsof them. Some bigger than the Vruk I just slayed, others less than half that size.
The scent of spilled blood must have drawn them in. It’s been a while since I’ve seen so many gather in one spot.
