The world turns cold, leaving me drained and human. I lay in a patch of mud, my head pounding. A parting gift from the transformation. I lift a hand to rub my temples, and the glitter of my chipped nail polish catches weak starlight.
The tattered remains of a dirty yellow sweater cling
I’m sunning myself on a rock when I hear the shuffle of human feet rubbing against dirt. I swivel my head, and my tongue flickers in and out, detecting sweat, cinnamon, and the heady tang of the flowering bidya that Mamua planted just for me by the front of her hut.
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I grip Flor’s clammy arms and hoist her onto my back. Crouching low, I pass rows of straw cottages and head for the gloomy thicket. Flor presses a feverish cheek against the nape of my neck and sighs, her breath sweetened with nopal. Mamá must have coaxed some fried cactus down her throat
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My scalpel taps against the shapeshifter’s eggshell but doesn’t crack the surface as expected. I press harder, but the blade slides down the surface, piercing the table with a thump.
Could my researchers have grabbed something else instead of the eggs?
No, I’d seen the mother. She swiftly switched from bird, to monkey
“Prince Heltor gave you a pet?”
“Quinn is a noble steed,” Brix corrected.
“That mutated deer is a noble steed?” Moxly lifted a brow. “You got punished, didn’t you?”
“Firstly, Quinn is a dragon not a deer.”
“Explains the scales, but not the antlers.”
“Secondly, it’s an honor to have her.” Brix lifted his chin
“Remember, Scarlet, you’re a predator. The alpha. Responsible for protecting your territory.”
I grip my axe tighter and squeeze my eyes shut, fully centered on the low rumble of Rufus’s voice.
“A successful Guardian strikes first. So no threat reaches your pack. Now…” His footsteps pad away. “Strike!”
My eyes fly open, and I hurl
Splitting the long grass with her snout, Airi observed the soldiers as they lounged around a fire. They were only a day’s march from home, where they would hand over their “prize.” With keen eyes, Airi scanned the camp.
There, on the north side. Tadashi leaned against a tree, his hands bound behind
Ever since his first death day—the day he’d seen his parents slaughtered—Vel had possessed a fascination with mortality. As a result of what he’d witnessed, he had two options: either go absolutely bonkers from the atrocities he’d seen that day or view each death as a celebration. Infuse some humor to the occasion,
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“Have you ever wanted to—”
“No.” Brix adjusted his brother’s tie, expression unchanged.
“But you could—”
“Don’t care.”
“What’s the point of being Captain of the Guard if you’re not going to use it to your advantage?”
When Brix didn’t answer, Moxly sighed and turned towards the mirror. His clean cut,
The Veil between worlds smells like overripe fruit, a deep purple scent. Cloying. Decaying. Bruised.
The sanitized atmospheres of living worlds lack the depth and complexity of abandoned realms. They never smell like the Veil, suffused with the scintillating aroma of death.
I breathe it deeply.
Invigorating.
Its heavens, ever-clouded. Its ground
There’s a hunter in the jungle this morning. I know by the muddy paw prints, the cracked bamboo, the deep silence. No deer forage in the leaf litter, and monkeys huddle together in the trees.
Leaning against a trunk, I draw in a deep breath. My bones ache to shift,
Splashing and laughter drifted to Veya from the hot springs. She peeked over the clump of sunbaked rocks to where her sister Vasilisa treaded water with her two attendants, chatting about the Fox Clan’s latest marriages and births.
Two of the things denied to Veya because she was Peltless.
Vasilisa glanced up.
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