A second wraith banks in from the left.
It’s coming for him.
Coming to tear him apart.
I throw back my shoulders and let out a savageROAR.
The deep primal sound rips out of my chest almost involuntarily. It’s raw and authoritative and pure alpha. It’s a commanding roar. The roar of a king. And it surprises even me.
For half a second, everything on the ship goes still. The wraiths hesitate.
“Up there,” I shout to Briallen, who’s staring at me in shock.
She quickly snaps out of it, pulls an arrow from her sheath and in one smooth motion, lets it loose. It slices through the cold gray arm of the wraith. It shrieks, a horrible sound like iron dragged across stone, and the old man drops.
He falls from a dangerous height and lands directly on top of the cowering man, who produces a sound I have never heard from a grown man and hope never to hear again.
I don’t stop to check on either of them. I keep going.
Where is she?
I’ve been longing for this day—the day I found my mate—for my entire life. We just found each other and I can’t bear to lose her yet. Not before I’ve gotten to know her sweet heart, or touched her soft lips, or seen her stunning face as she falls asleep or wakes up with a tired smile. I can’t live without her. I don’t know how I ever did.
I push my way down the creaky wooden steps as I look everywhere for her. Is she already gone? Have the Sea Wraiths snatched her off the ship?
No. I can’t think like that. She’s fine. She has to be.
I feel the cold before I sense it. Coming from my right is an icy drop in temperature so sharp it steals my next breath.
With no sound, smell, or warning, a wraith appears in front of my face. I recoil with a gasp. It stares at me with eyes like scorched holes, its rotting, half-transparent face more gruesome than anything I’ve encountered in my life. Its mouth is opening and closing silently, my eyes fixated on those sharp nasty teeth.
Up close, it’s worse than a nightmare. I can almost see through it. It’s there and not there, real and not real at the same time.
It lunges at me and I throw a punch.
My fist goes straight through its face. No resistance. No impact. Like punching icy-cold smoke.
I stumble forward with the momentum, heading for the ground, but the wraith catches me. I scream as the long bony fingers close around my bicep.
It’s so cold it burns like fire, sizzling my skin as it clenches hard.
I remember the emerald dagger in my hand and I swing it at the wraith’s face. It cuts through the shadow and it lets out a vicious scream, disappearing in a puff of dark smoke.
Before the smoke even vanishes, I feel more cold hands on me, grabbing my shoulders from behind. Lifting me up.
I swing the dagger up and behind me, but my shoulder sears with pain at the awkward angle and the weapon slips from my hand. All I can do is watch in horror as it tumbles down to the deck below as my feet rise into the air.
Another hand grabs my ankle, but it’s warm. Human.
I look down and our eyes meet.
Valther.
He only has one dagger now. It’s clutched in his hand as he grits his teeth, veins throbbing at his temples with the effort of pulling me down. The wraith hisses as it struggles to carry me into the sky.
My body cracks and pops as it’s getting pulled apart. My wounds tear open. My shoulders are burning with icy fire where the wraith’s dead fingers are digging into them.
I fight back a scream. My wolf whimpers.
