Page 46 of The Midnight Death Match

Einar leans his sword into the dirt and studies me. “Didyoutalk to him?”

Harek appears at the edge of my vision and watches from a distance, seated on a low stone wall. He’s been there the entire time—observing, analyzing. I feel his stare as much as Einar’s words.

They’re both afraid for me.

I exhale through my teeth, lowering my blade also. “We’re done for today.”

Einar doesn’t argue, but he doesn’t move either. “You can’t keep secrets if you want me to be able to help you.”

“I’m the Secret Keeper! What else do you expect?”

He draws a deep breath. “We’re on the same team, Eira. You’ve been at this for only a few months, where I’ve spent most of my 150 years as the hunter. Before I came into my powers, I learned from my father when he was the hunter. Trust me, pulling back won’t do you any good.”

“You said something that Lys did. That’s all.”

“If there’s more, you can tell me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Neither he nor Harek looks away as I stride toward the far edge of the courtyard, my breath still too fast, my body humming like a live wire under my skin.

Night falls too quickly, probably because I slept so late. The ruins feel smaller and more dangerous in the dark. Fog curls low against the ground like fingers reaching for my boots, and the air hums again with the same unnatural vibration that’s followed me since we entered Courtsview.

I sit near the dying fire, trying to steady my breathing, but it’s not working. Heartbeat too fast, breaths too shallow. Every sound too sharp.

Harek and Einar stand nearby, discussing strategy and next steps, but their words blur. My mind is hyper-focused on the rhythm of my own pulse.

The wolf stirs again, and not gently. Pushing. My skin itches, my muscles tense. A sharp pang flares along my shoulder blades, and I clench my jaw as the tremor spreads down my spine.

No. Not now.

I press my hands flat to the cold stone, trying to anchor myself. The world narrows. Sounds layer over each other—shuffling boots, crackling ward-stones in the walls, distant creaks of ruined towers groaning in the wind.

Too much, too close, too loud. A growl rumbles low in my throat before I can stop it. My fingers curl, nails lengtheningslightly. The edges of my vision darken and sharpen all at once. Colors twist. Scents bloom sharper and richer than they should.

“Eira?” Harek’s voice slices through the haze. He’s closer now, moving toward me carefully like he would toward a wounded animal.

“Stay back,” I whisper, though my voice comes out too rough.

His steps slowly but doesn’t stop.

“It’s all right. You’re safe.”

“No,” I grit, trembling. “I’m losing it.”

The wolf pushes harder against my skin, desperate to take control. To run, fight, and feel free.

Harek’s voice stays even. “You’re not lost. You’re here with me.”

I shake my head violently, heat building in my chest, my jaw, my bones…

Warm, calloused hands close gently around my wrists. His touch is grounding. His hands are warm, firm but gentle, as they wrap around my wrists. His thumbs press lightly against my pulse points—steady, rhythmic. “Breathe with me. You’ve got this.”

I should pull away, but my body listens to him before my mind can resist. It’s like his wolf is connecting with mine. Maybe it is. I draw in a ragged breath, matching his. In, out. Repeat.

“You’re stronger than the wolf, Eira.”

The edges of my vision pulsate, the sharpness slowly dulling as the world begins to soften again, and the growl in my throat fades. My nails retract, aching beneath the skin as they shrink back. The heat simmering inside me cools, slowly releasing its grip.

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