Page 179 of A Warrior's Fate

Isla didn’t glance back to listen if the two men were coming to open the door. Instead, she raced for the solid ground she assumed below and braced herself for the impact as she leaped over the bak and shifted mid-air. Her joints groaned as her paws met the dirty, cold stone floor.

What the—

She retched as her newly heightened senses picked up the most abhorrent odor.

She turned her head and faltered.

Thick columns of stone were built up the furthest wall, meeting at an archway in presentation of a wide-mouthed opening.

A cavern.

A…tunnel?

Inside, Isla could see the faintest glimmer of crystal embedded in its rock walls. The path seemed to go a few feet before it banked another way. In that distance, she sensed the source of that smell.

Wooden planks flew towards her as the bak rocketed from its fallen position to go for her again.

She barely had time to get out of the way of its claws or its teeth that followed. It had gone for her neck. The same fatal blow she needed to deal.

It went again. Again. From the left. The right. Faster. Faster.

Isla ducked and dodged and felt razors ghost across her fur.

Not much was stored down here, but she could barely move. There was nowhere for her to cover herself and think. With bak, strategy meant as much as strength. It was why warriors trained their minds as much as their bodies, their endurance. Training that few had gotten. Why they’d never survive.

Why this had been sealed…

The door was warded. Like the Gate. Like the Wall.

That’s why the bak couldn’t get out. Why she couldn’t.

If the beast made it out of this basement. Into Surles. Abalys. Mavec.

If there were more, it would be catastrophic.

Isla glanced at the tunnel. She could chance it. Where she’d end up, she had no idea, but it would be better than the bak ending her life here, leaving it sitting and waiting for the men to be as foolish as she was.

Kai’s face flashed in her head—the bond pulsed—but she pushed it away.

This was about Deimos, keeping its people safe.

But just as Isla was about to make her dash for the cavern, a creak cut through the bak’s grunting and her own breaths.

Warm light spilled down the staircase, searching until its glow illuminated the pallor, rippling skin of the beast.

No.

Isla barked at the man, who cursed and stood dumbfounded.

Too slow.

Too Goddess-damn slow.

As if it could sense the easy prey, the bak screeched and moved so hastily, that it was a blur of shadow. It skipped the broken steps and launched itself onto the first floor of the house. All Isla heard was a horrified scream, the tearing of flesh, and an unnerving squelch before the bak roared.

Triumph.

There was a responding howl of woe, of warning. The other man.

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