Page 70 of A Court of Bones & Sorrow

My dagger felt so small in my hand as I prepared myself to dive to the side and avoid those jaws that were considerably larger than the first time he’d bitten me.

The wraith struck impossibly fast, and I barely managed to leap aside. The dagger left my fingers a second before his tail slammed into me and sent me hurtling through the air, further into the forest and away from everyone else.

An eerie shriek filled the night air, and I felt a briefmoment of satisfaction at knowing my aim had been true before I slammed into a tree.

Something crunched in my back, but I forced myself to my feet and held my hand up. A pulse of magic and a second later, my dagger flew through the air to my waiting palm. Blood so dark that it was almost black coated the blade.

Shadows wound through the trees and snapped back into the giant snake, the eye I’d ruptured already good as new. This time, I had nowhere to go. The underbrush on either side of the tree was too thick. I held my dagger up defiantly as the wraith opened its mouth, displaying long fangs dripping with shadows.

“Spitka e chof.”The whispered words wrapped around me.Come with me.

“Not a fucking chance,” I snarled as pain wracked my body. Only pure rage and adrenaline kept me standing.

A high-pitched wail back towards the others announced the death of a wraith. One down, two to go. I just had to survive a little longer.

Just as I readied myself to try to dive forward to run past the wraith, a dark form fell from the trees to land at my side.

“Where the fuck have you been, Draven?” I snapped.

“These weren’t the only wraiths,” he said tightly. It was then I noticed he was covered in blood, some the dark purplish-red of the wraiths, but most of it was definitely his.

“Mikin,” the wraith hissed.

Draven dove towards it, but the snake burst into a shapeless shadow before quickly disappearing into the trees. “FUCK!” he shouted and whirled to slam a fist into the trunk behind me.

I jumped, and he froze before slowly lowering his hand to his side and unclenching his fingers. The rage that had been on face a second before vanished, and now he just looked exhausted.

“Come on.” He grabbed my hand and tugged me towards the others. “He’ll be back with more help.”

Thoughts raced through my mind as we ran back to Vail and the rest of our party. I’d read that word before—mikin—but the translation was escaping me. Then it hit me, and I almost stumbled.

Traitor.

An hour later,the six of us were behind the relative safety of an outpost’s wards and gathered around a table in the far corner of the tavern. Well, Vail was in a room upstairs, passed out in a healing sleep. He’d managed to kill the third wraith, but not before the damn thing had nearly disemboweled him.

Draven had thrown a fit when I’d slashed open my wrist and practically shoved it against Vail’s mouth while tracing the healing glyph in the blood that coated his stomach. I hadn’t even hesitated. Despite all the complications between us, all the pain and confusing animosity, Vail had been hurt, and all I’d cared about was making him better.

Even with the strength of my blood coursing through his veins, Vail had barely managed to stay conscious on the ride here. As soon as his head had hit the pillow, he’d passed out. Nyx and Emil had assured me he was fine and would be ready to leave by the time the sun rose.

We all sipped our honey ale as the local residents eyed us curiously. It wasn’t unusual for the House Heirs to visit outposts, but it definitely wasn’t a common occurrence for the Moroi Prince to stay at one.

The charming mask Draven usually wore as his public persona was nowhere to be seen, and the grim expression on his face was doing an excellent job of keeping everyone away.Only the barkeep had approached us, and that was only to drop off some food and ale.

Ary took a long drink before setting his glass down and sliding a small, wooden square with the glyph for silence to the center of the table. He sliced his index finger open on his fang and let the blood drop onto the glyph.

“This glyph doesn’t store much magic. We’ve got ten minutes.” His gaze locked on mine. “Tell me what the fuck is going on, Samara.”

Out of my peripheral vision, I saw Nyx and Emil stiffen, but it was Draven who spoke. “You don’t give her orders, Tepes,” he said in a quiet voice that promised all kinds of violence.

Ary didn’t back down, and I saw a flicker of pain in his eyes. “My best friend’s husband was in one of the outposts that fell to wraiths. The three of us grew up together. Nicholai was like a brother to me. These attacks aren’t random. The wraith last night was searching for something.” He leaned forward from where he sat directly across from me. “Somethingyoufound tonight.”

I couldn’t tell him everything, not with Draven here, but Ary wouldn’t let this go. I had to give him at least some information, and then we could tell him everything later when it was safe to do so.

“You’re right,” I said, choosing my words carefully but quickly. “They’re searching old human settlements for relics of the spell the humans used to turn themselves into the Moon Blessed. All the outposts that have been attacked have been ones built on those old towns and villages.”

The muscles along Ary’s jaw flexed. “Do you know how they’re getting past the blood wards?”

“No.” I forced myself to not look at Draven.

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