Page 258 of The Edge of Darkness

“Go back to the queen,” I murmured to Weston.

“No—Auren⁠—”

I whirled on him, my eyes flaring with a brief white light that made him shield his own. “Go. Now,” I growled. My voice didn’t sound like my own.

Weston staggered back a step, but hesitated.

I did not watch to see if he did as I said. Killian was my sole focus now. My hand moved on its own accord, reaching behind me and withdrawing the iron dagger from my belt.

“You will die for this,” I promised the woodland lord as I stalked toward him.

Skadi moved to intercept me, her hand outstretched to conjure something, but Killian stopped her.

“No. Let us fight. Let me bring her to her knees where she belongs. Then you can take her back to the Wastelands and break her.”

Skadi scoffed, but amusement flickered in her eyes. She waved her hand and stepped aside, watching my approach like she was watching an animal walk into a trap. Little did she know, she had it all backwards.

I had once played the part of a demure doe in a room full of wolves. But I was no longer a doe. The time had come for me to shed my skin and bare my own fangs.

Killian slipped his hand into his invisible stash again and withdrew a rather large dagger with a wavy edge, similar to one I had seen in Aremis’s arsenal. “Let’s do this the old-fashioned way,” he said. “No power. Only weapons.”

“Fine. I’ll kill you any way you’d like,” I gritted.

It did not matter to me whether it was by my power or my blade or my bare hands. His blood would flood this forest floor when I was through with him.

The corner of his mouth lifted, but I paid no mind to it. I lunged the moment I got within a few steps of him.

I swung my dagger at his throat with a yell. He side-stepped the attack, but I didn’t stop advancing. I moved again, thrusting my weapon as I spun. He blocked it with his, the iron blades clanging together and sending sparks through the air.

I pulled back and landed a kick to his abdomen. As he bent forward with the impact, I switched the blade in my hands and drove my right fist into his exposed jaw. The satisfying crack that followed was music to my ears.

He wiped the blood that dribbled down his chin with the back of his wrist, then licked his lips as he laughed. “You may be a skilled fighter, but you don’t have it in you to kill me.”

“You think you know me, but you don’t.” I lunged again, crossing blades with him once, twice, three times, as he parried and pushed back again and again.

“I know enough to render you useless,” he said.

I didn’t reply.

I was rage and vengeance, spinning and slicing like a storm.

He swiped at me again, and I spun out of reach, but when I turned to face him once more, I stumbled to a halt.

Standing where he had just been, was Niall. His golden eyes stared back at me, but Killian’s dagger was still in his hand.

It wasn’t my mate. Not really. But gods, it was convincing.

I shook my head, but he approached, and every instinct inside me reared up in defiance.

It’s not him. It’s not him, I told myself.

He jutted forward, aiming his weapon at my heart. I forced my feet to move just in time. The wavy edge of the blade hissed through the air as I watched it narrowly miss my chest.

When I lifted my eyes again, he was smiling.

My mind spun, struggling to convince itself that this was not my mate. That this was Killian, and that he was a threat.

He sensed my struggle, and his smile broadened, turning into a menacing laugh. “Come on, Auren. Fight me.”