Page 80 of Empowering the Wolf's Heart

Please don’t…

“I challenge the Rite,” she said, her voice clear and ringing with authority.

I nodded, even though I wanted to wince.

It’s frowned upon to not receive the Rite’s diction with humble gratitude, whether in loss or in victory. But it’s not out of turn to question the Rite—it favors the bold, after all. Which is where my great-great-great-great-grandpa had lost his life to his father.

History would not repeat itself. Not this time.

"Please take him to the closest body of water and let him go," I told Enforcer Markus. He nodded his head in a near bow, assisting the dumbfounded nymph to his feet and escorting him to the woods. The nymph gathered the body of his companion and followed Markus from the field of death.

I turned back to my grandma while wiping the sand from my trousers and watching her with narrowed eyes. The nymph's blood stained my hands and my soul.

No one else would die this day.

Grandma drew her dagger. I drew my twin blades.

We circled. The sand crunched beneath my feet, rain having not come for a time making it less malleable. The air was a cool breeze freezing the sweat beading at my brow. My heartbeat eased as I focused on the many sensations around me and relaxed my grip on my blades.

She feigned left, coming in with a back sweep of her blade from the right. I caught her blade in a V made of my blades and shoved her back.

She favored her left side. It was an old hunting accident, or so we were told.

I feigned left, right, then kicked her chest, making her stumble.

She glanced up. “My turn,” she said.

Her blades were fast. I had never seen her move with this kind of speed. It was bordering on supernatural. I blocked a feint, got hit in the shin with a low kick, and barely knocked her blade aside to miss her taking my arm. Instead, she put a deep gash into my bicep. My hand still clutched my blade, but it was weak.

Grandma didn’t let up. I backpedaled as she drove forward, her blade seeking blood. I leaned back, her blade inches from my neck. Sharp pain rose from my chin as her blade clipped it.

She kicked out, catching me in the ribs. She elbowed me in the back of the neck, sending me to the ground.

She paused. There was always a moment where Grandma enjoyed letting her prey know they were about to die. It was no different for the granddaughter who betrayed her.

Shen growled. I barely saw him from the corner of my eye, his eyes completely red as he bared his slightly longer fangs.

“Trust me,” I whispered, even as I stared up at my grandma.

I hoped that kept him from dealing his own death by shifting.

I rolled into Grandma’s legs to send her off balance, blocking her blade as it came for my head. The blade stopped inches from my nose with the sharp zing of metal on metal. I could count the individual divots where a practiced hand had sharpened the blade until it could slice bone.

My other hand came up and grabbed her sword arm, trapping it. With a scissor kick, I knocked her in the temple hard enough for her to see stars and then placed my blade against her neck. Grandma froze at the feel of cold metal on her skin.

She glared down at me, her chest barely moving even though I was heaving, my lungs feeling as if there were bricks sitting on them.

“Aurelia of the lineage Conscientia from father Liam and mother Annikia has won,” Elder Pulma said, his voice hesitant and nearly disappointed.

Grandma stepped back. I stood, watching her carefully even as I followed her with the blade. A hint of blood dribbled from around the blade as I had leaned too far into it. Her face was blank, but it was also pale. And there was something in her eyes, hinting that this was not over.

“Are you really going to kill your grandmother, Aurelia?” she asked, disappointment making her frown lines stand out. “You have done enough by taking my heirship by force. Are you really going to kill me now after all I have done for you?”

I pulled back my blade. “No. You’re going to watch change unfold. And then you’ll either live in freedom or die a prisoner. It’ll be your choice.”

She stared at me, her lips pursed in displeasure.

The zing of an arrow met my ear.

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