Page 143 of Of Rime and Ruin
I fold him close to my heart as he hiccups again. “Shh, shh. I’m here.” Poor youngling must be terrified, coming to rescue me.
He’s an idiot, but he’s my idiot.My eyes sting and my chest tightens until I can feel the heavy beating of my heart, echoing through every bone. I’ve got him. He’s safe with me. We’re going to find a way out of here together. We’ll find Aethan and swim home.
“His Majesty is gonna flip,” Perrin mutters. He lifts his head off my chest, glancing around as if he’s expecting the king to emerge from the rock wall.
Scales rise along my neck. “Perrin,” I say. “Where is the king?”
“He went to find”—the clawbeast’s yowl echoes through the tunnel—“you.”
Perrin’s final word sinks between us like a rock and so does my stomach.
“Shit.” I have to go back. I have to save him. “I can’t ask you to come with me, Perrin.”
He snorts. “And you can’t stop me, Princess.”
We swim deeper into the labyrinth, weaving through the dark tunnels as the sounds of fighting float toward us. The beast growls. Aethan cries out.
My heart thunders as I push my body faster, twisting around the curves with reckless speed. Rocks scrape my skin where jagged edges catch my limbs, ripping scales off to bleed. Perrin is fast on my tail. We turn the final corner, and my heart stops.
The beast holds Aethan in her hands, halfway to her mouth. Claws clamp around his body—not his Beast form, but the soft-skinned form of the king. His legs dangle in the water, those muscled thighs bare and motionless. He stares listlessly at her, limp as reedgrass. Like he’s given up.
“No!” I shout.
Godsdammit. He can’t give up. He is Aethan Nastrond, King of Frost. A brutal and powerful ice-wielder and lover of hot peppermint tea. Diligent leader and loyal friend. He’s fuckingmine. He can’tgive up.
Aethan turns. Blue eyes lock on mine. His face morphs from blasé acceptance to confusion to anger. “Nahla?”
He squirms in the beast’s grip without effect.
Perrin’s instincts are faster than mine. With a war cry, he launches at the beast, grasping a knife tight in his fist. He slices at her neck, nicking her gills. Blood trickles out.
The beast screams. A swipe of her arm knocks Perrin away, he flies into the wall with a sickening crack, and his body sinks to the floor, limp.
Perrin!
He doesn’t move. His tattered tailfin floats aimlessly in the low current. Is he…?
She’ll pay for that.
My blood warms as magic stirs. I snap my gaze to her and clench my gut. With my Voice, I launch my mind toward her defenses.
I punch through. Magic pours out of my mouth, strengthening my attack. Her mind fills with emotion, a chaotic swirl of colors. I don’t stop to take inventory. I snuff them out one by one. Wrestle them into submission. Slash them to pieces.
A piercing screech cuts the water. The clawbeast lifts one hand to cover her ear, and she digs her claws into her temple as she screams and shakes her head.
I press on, spiraling toward her center. A small orb glows brightly in the middle of her mind, the fragile blueprint of her psyche. It hums and vibrates as her innermost thoughts thrum beneath the surface in a world of color. I hesitate, staring at the swath of color. So pretty. So fragile.
To enter an animal’s center of self has serious repercussions. It’s taboo for good reason—but Keen never told me what would happen if I broke it.
I assume it means death. How can a creature survive without a psyche?
Could I kill her? Do I have it in me to take this creature’s life? I’ve assisted so many times in the death of other creatures. What’s the difference, really? I brush against the orb. It’s warm to the touch.
The beast snarls. Her glare finds me, and she thrashes her tail, lifting from her perch.
Aethan howls as her hands crush his body. “Nahla!” he screams, agony twisting his face. She’s hurting him. Killing him before my eyes.
She tucks Aethan against her chest and launches toward me. Her bulk crowds my vision until I see nothing but a wall of flesh and muscle. Trapped.
