Page 211 of The Fallen Fae King

Then a howl echoes from behind the door.

“Shadow Wolves,” Yara spits in disgust. “The cowardly lapdogs of the dragons.”

I clench my jaw. “Then let’s see whose claws and fangs are more dangerous.”

Shadows spill through the doors first in a sea of darkness. Then like Viking ships sailing on them, a dozen giant black Shadow Wolves in shifted form stalk into the arena.

Their leader, who is more powerful than the rest, raises his head and howls.

Ribbons of shadow curl endlessly through his coat like smoke.

His eyes glow green.

Gasps ripple through the arena.

I don’t turn my head to look.

We are being fed to these shifters. The dragons don’t expect us to be able to defend ourselves. They have no idea how strong I am, however, or how strong my people can be when their situation appears desperate.

People never observe nature enough.

They should see how fiercely a mouse will fight when it is backed into a corner.

It can take on a cat and win.

“Hold,” I yell above the sound of the drums, as the wolves prowl further into the arena, circling us. “Don’t run. They are no different to any other combatant. Don’t fight to their strength, only yours.”

The leader of the wolves bares his fangs, inhaling deeply.

Then his gaze snaps to mine like he has caught my scent.

“When he attacks,” I whisper to Yara, “don’t engage. Drop back and protect Ahm, no matter what happens.”

“Lan…” Yara protests.

“That’s an order.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

The wolves raise their heads and let out a haunting howl.

The vampires, as I have taught them, draw together back-to-back into a circle. The younger ones are trembling but they’re remaining steady. Their shackles clink against each other.

The Shadow Wolves circle them. Their black paws stir up the sand. They are silent now and unnervingly patient.

The crowds roar in excitement.

I push Yara and Ahm away toward the edge of the arena, keeping an eye to place myself firmly between them and the giant wolf, which is padding toward me.

I lower my head, baring my fangs.

Then the leader of the wolves raises his head and howls.

The pack explodes forward, ripping into the nearest vampires. I flinch at the screams.

I glance at the battle.

One vampire has a wolf by the throat with both shackled hands, dragging the shifter close enough to bury his fangs into his shoulder.