Page 4 of Land of Monsters

Peering out of the gap, the hum of nature the only thing I could hear, I pushed away from the door, hustling to Raven.

“Hey.” I crouched down, shaking her shoulder. “Wake up.”

She didn’t move.

“Come on.” I jiggled her harder, my nerves still jerking my head back to the door like someone was going to plow through it at any moment. “We have to go.”

A small noise came up her throat, her forehead wrinkling, but she didn’t wake.

“Raven!” I whisper-shouted. Dropping the axe, I slid my hand around her back, trying to sit her up. “Wake up.”

Her lashes fluttered, the crease in her forehead deepening, sleep possessively trying to keep her.

“Wake the hell up,princess,” I snapped, more anger threading through my tone than I expected.

It was a name Warwick always called Brexley because of the privilege she grew up in, but here, the term wasn’t just a pet name. It was Raven’s actual title. She was an actual princess. Royalty.

Her lids cracked open like the moniker was how she was woken up every day. A frown cut over her features.

“Don’t call me that.” Her voice was barely a whisper, her lids starting to fall again.

“Why? It’s who you are, right?PrincessRaven Haley Scarlet Dragen, right?” I snapped out her full name like it was an insult. “And wake up. Sonya’s men are here. We need to leave.”

Her eyes bolted open, and she shot up to sitting. The few damp pieces of clothes covering her fell to her lap, showing she was only in a thin sports bra and knickers. She stared down at herself like she was still trying to figure out where she was and why the hell she was almost naked.

“You were going into hypothermia,” I defensively spit out, standing and stepping into my boots. “I had to get you warm.” I reached down for my sweater, tugging it back on, anger bristling over my shoulders. “Get dressed. We have to leavenow!”

My tone impelled her into action, but she struggled to put on her icy clothes, her movements sluggish. I still couldn’t feel much magic from her, fatigue and cold slowing her progress.

Impatience had me stomping to her. Leaning over, I took the shredded sweater from her hands and shoved it over her head, my knuckles dragging down the sides of her breasts to her ribs, tugging it in place.

“I can dress myself.”

“Then do it,” I growled and moved away from her.

A shout pierced the air, sending me back to the door, peering through the slight crack in the wood. My breath stuck in my throat. More muffled voices came from up the passage.

They found where the wolves attacked, the signs of struggle, the blood coating the snow. They would realize we either never made it to the caves or were no longer in there and head back this way. The snow overnight might have hidden some of our footsteps up to the ticket booth, but someone would take notice of the disturbance of pristine snow.

I swore under my breath, hearing Raven scrambling behind me, trying to get on her boots, her actions far slower than normal.

“We have to go,” I barked hoarsely, glancing back at her.

A frown marred her expression as she finished tying her bootlaces, fatigue sagging her frame. But she hardened her shoulders and shuffled to me, her skin drawn and pale.

For a second, I could feel a crack in my wall—a need to touch her, pull her into me, make sure she was all right. But I was halted by the memory of how she tore out that man’s throat, her words bursting another man’s brains, her mere existence scaring off a hungry pack of wild wolves.

If anything,Ineeded protection, and it wasn’t the dark dweller part I was afraid of.

“Stay close,” I uttered, gripping the pick in my hand. Taking a breath, I pulled open the door, peeking out. White robbed the forest of color, leaving only the brown bark of the trees to bleed through the snow. I strained to hear anything but the drips of water dropping from the leaves, the powder buffering the voices from down the road. “Come on.” I trampled down the incline to the path, making sure Raven was behind me before I took off.

Using the footprints in the snow from the soldiers, we retreated down the footpath, passing the sign announcing the closure of the Valea Cetatii Caves, which we crossed less thantwelve hours ago. How much had changed since then. The Ash who ran up this hill toward the caves had no idea what was ahead. What he would unshackle.

Ash. She muttered my name with a warning.

“Wha—” I heard the rumbling of a motorcar coming up the hill, my gaze snapping back to the road. The deep vibrations conjured the image of an MTV—Medium Tactical Vehicle—in my brain.

More soldiers were coming.

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