Page 93 of The Wolf Queen

He was talking as a means to try and distract me, but I let his words wash over me like they were nothing more than the flicker of the flames, the sounds of the birds of prey wheeling above the fire, picking up wildlife as they fled. I paced around him and he moved too, as if in the steps of a savage dance.

“I’m sure Nordred taught you well.”

There, that shoulder tip as the muscles bunched and he lunged towards me, I was out and away from the spot his strike hit, before he got even close. He telegraphed his blows, however subtly, and that’s what I focussed on.

“You probably think yourself a proper little warrior.”

Again, shoulder dipping, muscles tensing and then I moved, but I had to shift quicker now, he feinted right, then went left, anticipating my sidestep. My body felt as light as a leaf tossed on the breeze so I was able to lunge out of his way, but it wouldn’t forever. The fight, the preparation, I was burning through the reserves of my strength so I needed to be careful.

“A warrior queen.”

His body was held looser, and he already had some momentum up from his previous strike, so he struck faster. Fast enough for me to feel the whistle of the wind as his blade almost grazed me. I lifted my sword, blocking his and that’s when I felt the weight of this task. He was strong, so hellishly strong, my muscles screamed with the effort of blocking his strike, but Callum grinned as if sensing what I’d realised, and then stepped back.

“If that’s what you need to be content, I’ll let you play at queen. It would be good to restore the traditions of the past. You’ll be my puppet, of course.” I felt like one as I dodged and then blocked his strike, the sound of the blades grating against each other. I was being forced to move to his tune, not strike back myself. “Women are weak, too swayed by the vagaries of the heart.”

And that’s when he nodded to the place just past my shoulder.

“Darcy!” Weyland snapped, his voice finally filtering through.

“Keep your sword up!” Dane urged. “Don’t let him get under your guard.”

But that’s exactly what he did when my focus was split. I was forced to stumble back one step, then another, Callum lashing out with faster and faster strikes until I stumbled and fell, then rolled out of the way. I sprung to my feet, balancing on the balls of my feet, my heart beating far too fast as I tried to find my way in this fight.

“Break the line,” Nordred said. He’d drawn it in the sand of the practice ground. “Each time they strike out at you, there’s a line between their starting position and their endpoint.” He skewered his stick into the ground. “For them, that point is somewhere in you.” He poked my breast bone. “In your heart.” Then my neck. “In the big arteries here, or here.” He tapped my thigh. “Somewhere vulnerable where they can open you up and bleed you out, so you need to break that line.”

He stepped sideways.

“Get out of the way, then when their back is unprotected.” He twisted and tapped my lower back. “Stab them in the kidneys.”

“The knights say that’s ungentlemanly fighting,” I’d said.

“Perhaps it is during a bout on tourney day, but not on the battlefield. Kill or killed, those are the only rules.”

I blinked, seeing Callum smirking at me, as if he saw my little reverie and was laughing at its contents, but I just raised my sword and nodded to him. That lack of humility, of compliance had his smile fading. He didn’t telegraph his strike this time, but somehow I knew it was coming, sidestepping at the last moment out of his way, then turning my sword around, the flames flickering, right before I stabbed down.

His whole body bucked upwards, his eyes going wide, his mouth falling open with pain. I’d managed to press the point of the sword into the wound I’d left, tearing it wider.

Black blood sizzled as it dripped free, as if the earth itself rejected its fall, but I grinned, feeling my fangs snick down. I shook my head, the half-wolf form coming to me easy as breathing and with it was everything else. I’d been gifted this form by four of my mates, knitting the two parts of my soul together, resolving my breathing issues. Rather than try and steal my strength or oppress it, they helped it flourish, and it was that I carried with me right now. Because it wasn’t just Nordred’s lessons I needed to lean on, but them.

I had Gael’s lightness on his feet, but Axe’s strength. I assessed Callum like Dane would, catching the moment his mask dropped and the real rage rose. I shot him a smile that was the spit of Weyland’s, full of cocky arrogance, but when I lifted my sword, that was all me.

“You think drawing on a beast’s power will help you? I command a legion of them.” And with that the Reavers all threw back their heads and howled.

“But not me,” I said.

I watched his cheeks flush bright red with anger, because that was the fragility of this man. He’d wreaked havoc with the Reavers at his back and yet still I could ruffle his feathers. Each one of these creatures would sit, roll over and beg if that’s what he required, but that used his power, didn’t reward him with it. To get more, to do what he needed, he had to pull it from me, just as I did my mates.

And that infuriated him.

He didn’t want to need me, didn’t want to be connected to anyone, and so he tried to force that to happen now and failed. I smiled as I flicked my sword, shaking off the aches and pains inside me and then faced him down.

Callum was growing sloppy, not even bothering to hide his tells. I blocked this strike and that, parrying his and then driving my own home, loving the feeling of my weapon piercing flesh each time I stabbed into him, ready for more as soon as I kicked him free. His blood turned the earth black and smoking, our feet churning it to mud, but I was determined to give it more. Parry, parry, strike, I felt like I was falling into a rhythm until the battle turned.

I felt like I was winning as I’d stabbed my sword into his thigh, sending him spiralling forward. When he went down onto one knee, I whirled. Sword upraised, the blood lust was upon me, I saw only the sight of the back of his neck unprotected. My sword would bite through it, that I knew. I felt like I thirsted for that thick blood, just like my blade did, as I went to lop off his head. My sword was wrenched up and over my head, leaving my chest completely exposed, because I thought I had him down for the count.

I couldn’t have been more wrong.

He spun around, swiping his leg out and knocking mine out from beneath me, aborting my strike as I landed heavily on my back. For a moment, I just stared at the sky, seeing the smoke and the birds circling ahead, reminding me of the plains outside Ironhaven. My lungs felt heavy, impossible to fill, despite sucking breaths in and while I did, Callum appeared above me. The moon was rising over his shoulder, forming a cool halo around his head and those red eyes of his, they gleamed brighter as he smiled.

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