Page 186 of Wings of Ash & Flame
Flames burst from Solflara, controlled but fierce. One yeti shrieked, snow hissing to vapor where her fire touched, before dissolving to ash.
The ground trembled. A hairline crack splintered near Solflara’s position.
“Don’t!” Dawson’s voice snapped. “You’ll bring the mountain down!”
Solflara pulled back, relying on talons and wings. Without fire, the yetis pressed harder.
The plateau became chaos—claws, dodges, steel on bone.
Dawson spun, ducked a swipe, and unleashed a vortex of wind. The beast soared upward before he slammed it against a jagged outcrop.
Two yetis surrounded Alaire, her back to the abyss. One wrong step and she’d be gone.
She dropped low, rolled between its legs, slashing on the way up. Her blade bit shallow, tearing fur but not stopping it. The creature spun, backhanding her across the plateau.
She skidded over ice and stone, stopping just short of the cliff’s edge.
The battle raged in the cramped center of the plateau. Beck’s wind kept the yetis staggering, but there were too many. Dawson fought with lethal precision, but even he was being overwhelmed.
Solflara lashed her flaming tail like a sword. Beck seized a yeti in his beak and bit down hard—thecrunchof bone nearly made Alaire’s stomach turn.
“Fuck them all,” Dawson growled, eyes hard as steel.
A yeti charged Alaire just as she staggered to her feet.
Dawson’s broadsword cleaved its head clean from its shoulders.
“Behind you!” Alaire shouted.
Another yeti lunged through the chaos. Dawson spun, landing a brutal slash across its chest, but the beast’s momentum slammed into him. His sword went flying. Claws ripped across his torso, shredding fabric and flesh, hurling him to his knees.
“Dawson!” The scream tore from her throat.
Rage consumed her, tightening her chest, stealing her air. The thought of losing him—of him broken and bleeding—was unbearable.
The yeti reared back for another strike. Dawson collapsed face-first into the snow, blood spreading beneath him like spilled wine.
“Get away from him!” Alaire threw herself at the creature, daggers plunging into every gap in its hide. Again and again. “Let him go!”
Hot, slick blood coated her hands, but she didn’t stop. The creature bucked, twisting, trying to throw her off. Still, more yetis circled. Dawson wasn’t moving.
“Get to Dawson!”Solflara urged.
Wings flaring wide, her flames erupted in a blaze. Beck’s wind surged to meet it, creating a maelstrom that drove the yetis back to the edges of the plateau. The ground trembled beneath their combined fury.
Finally, the beast beneath Alaire sagged, its roars dwindling to weak gasps before crumpling. Only then did she release it, knees slamming into stone as her chest heaved.
Cracks spidered through the rock where Solflara’s fire had touched, thin lines racing outward.
Alaire sprinted to him, rolling him carefully onto his back. Blood soaked crimson across the pristine snow, his skin pale, breath shallow. The gashes across his chest were red and swollen, claw marks seared deep.
“You’re okay, you’re okay,” she whispered, though the words were for her as much as him. His gaze locked onto hers, so intense it felt like he was memorizing her face—as if afraid it might be the last time he saw it.
His broken, vulnerable form tore at her heart.
Her gaze darted around until it landed on a patch of untouched snow a few feet away. Crawling over, she scooped amound into her arms and hurried back, clutching it to her chest as if it were something precious. It was the only thing she had to clean the deep gashes scoring his chest.
By the time she returned, Dawson’s eyes had closed—he’d slipped into unconsciousness. Swallowing hard, she pressed the snow gently over the wounds, packing it against torn flesh.
