Oh shit. He really had heard us.
“I challenge you!” I yelled.
Praxis’ eyes widened, and he stopped before he could bring his fist down on me. “You what, whelp?”
Mel and Gullie spilled out of the tent I had just emerged from, and other moon children watched on while this transpired. I thought back to all the stuff Toross had taught me about the moon children, about their practices, their rituals. Once a challenge was offered in the presence of witnesses, it had to be accepted and fought through immediately.
The winner would cement their place in the pack, with the loser becoming their subordinate. A subordinate had to do what their superior said. Assuming no one had heard him oust the Prince and my secret, if I could beat him, he would have to keep it to himself.
If I lost, though, then I would become his bitch—or worse, he could kill me.
“You heard me,” I said, panting, “Under the light of the full moon as it shines tonight, I challenge you. Do you accept?”
Praxis roared again and drove his fist into the wet earth next to my head. He got right up in my face and snarled, his hot, meaty breath breaking against my nose. “So be it.”
The much larger fae got up and dusted himself off. I pushed myself back along the ground and also got to my feet. Already a crowd had gathered. Moon children from all over the village were watching—among them were Mel, Gullie, Ashera, and even the Prince. I locked eyes with him as he emerged from his tent. There were several fae between me and him, but he was trying to make his way over to me.
“Choose your weapon, whelp,” Praxis barked.
I grabbed the dagger strapped to my ankle and drew it. “Choose yours,” I said.
“I don’t need a weapon to beat a scrawny thing like you.”
“Haven’t you heard? I’m the white wolf.”
“We’ll see about that.”
Praxis charged, the massive fae choosing to remain in his human form so he could swing his fists at me. This made him a little easier to deal with than if he’d taken his wolf form—big guys were usually slow. But he’d already put me on the defensive, forcing me to evade, and duck, and weave out of the way of his hooks and uppercuts.
It was almost impossible to find an opening at the rate his fists were flying. Barely more than a few seconds had passed, and I already dodged so much I was starting to get winded. That was part of his plan. Get me tired and panting; slow me down enough that one of his hits would land, because that was all it would take.
He had fists like hams, and if any one of those blows found its mark, I was probably done.
I ducked into a tent, slipping quickly through the opening and throwing the tent flap into Praxis’ path as he came in behind me. By the time he entered the room, I had picked up a furry blanket and tossed it over his head. As he struggled with the blanket, I kicked him in the shin and brought him low, and with a hard shove I threw him to his back.
Instead of attacking him again, I dashed over him to get outside, but he grabbed my foot just as I went past him, and I fell face first into the dirt. A gasp moved through the crowd. The fae weren’t just watching, they were enjoying this—they were entertained by it. That meant nobody was going to stop this from continuing.
I could see the Prince was trying, but Melina had intercepted him and forced him to keep his distance.
Good. For better or worse, I need to do this on my own. I was going to have to beat Praxis on my own. A pretty dress wasn’t going to get me out of this. Fancy feet weren’t going to get me out of this. I had to knock Praxis on his ass and make sure he didn’t get back up, otherwise things were only going to get worse for me before they got better.
I spun around onto my back, sat upright, and tried to pry his hand off my leg, but he had fingers like sausages, and his grip was vice-like. As he came to try to pick himself up, I smashed the heel of my foot into the side of his face. It made a loud, satisfying thud, but I had only burst his lip, and he seemed to have liked it.
“You are weak,” he snarled through a mouthful of blood. “When I’ve beaten you into the ground, I’m going to mark your body in ways that’ll make you repulsive to all males. I’m going to—”
“—have your way with me over and over again, blah, bla,” I said, rolling my eyes. “That’s really original. Did you think of that all by yourself?”
“How dare you talk to me like that?!” he roared.
“I told you. I’m the white fucking wolf.”
I willed my body to change shape, and as my legs began to contract I was able to wriggle out of his grasp and get free. I scrambled to get to my feet, but no sooner had I turned around to face him again had Praxis taken on his own wolf form. He was huge—his fur jet black and bristly, his eyes deep green and filled with predatory cunning.
His teeth were so large and sharp, they were terrifying to look at. If I let him grab hold of me with those teeth, I knew, I was done. I would have no way of making him let go, and he would be free to rend me apart like a wolf with a piece of meat. Instead of attacking him head on, I started running, forcing him to give chase.
The fae parted for me as I charged past them. I made sure to go right past Ashera, making her get out of my way as well. Praxis gave chase, the much larger, black wolf thundering through the moon children’s village, his paws thudding against the dirt. He was panting, his breaths coming out harsh and ragged, but he wasn’t about to get tired anytime soon.
I was likely to run out of breath before him, but I needed a plan. There was no way of beating him without one. I didn’t think I was strong enough to take him on in a straight brawl, so I had to use the one thing I had which he didn’t—my intelligence.
Instead of heading up into the mountains, I used the tents in the village as cover, ducking and weaving between them, trying to confuse him. He had my scent, so there was no way to shake him off that way, but it was still dinner time in the village, and the air was heavy with the smell of various foods and drinks.
If I could make him question where I’d gone even for a moment, I might just have a chance.
I noticed a large cluster of tents, all woven together and split up by heavy curtains. I ducked into it, pushing through the flap, and then moving through the adjoining rooms using nothing but my nose to guide me. I could smell the outside, there was a breeze in here, and that meant there was another opening, probably somewhere in the back.
I didn’t go there. Instead, I threw myself behind a dresser and changed out of my wolf form and into my human form. I was smaller like this, less likely to be noticed. I was also fully clothed in my suit of white, leather armor. Toross had taught me the Rite of Binding, which allowed me to consecrate the clothes I was wearing so I could keep them on me as I shapeshifted.
It had already come in handy.
I heard Praxis come sniffing into the tent. He’d followed my scent, but the air was thick with spices and meats. As I peered around the dresser, I noticed him moving through one of the adjoining rooms. He had his nose to the ground as he went, trying to pick my scent out from the white noise around him.
He was headed for this room. My heart was pounding, thundering, hammering so hard I thought he would be able to hear it with those wolf ears. I had to hold my breath because there was a chance he could’ve heard that, too, and at least that was something I could control.
As he moved closer to the dresser, he stopped, then turned. The breeze moving through the tent had confused him. Had I gone through the opening on the other side, or had I turned around and hidden somewhere? He wasn’t sure, and that meant I’d found my moment.
With all my might I shoved the dresser I was hiding behind, bringing it down on top of him with a loud crash. Praxis collapsed under it, but the dresser alone wasn’t enough to knock him unconscious. He was already struggling to get out from under it.
As he backed up, covered in some of the dresser’s contents, I leapt on top of him and wrapped my arms around his neck. He was huge, but that only made him an eas
y target. Wildly he bucked and kicked, trying to shake me off him. When that didn’t work, he turned around and started speeding out the way he had come, making sure to crash into every possible obstacle on the way.
Spots of pain erupted all along my shoulders, my back, my arms, but I couldn’t let go of him. I had to keep my arms wrapped around his neck and squeeze as tightly as I could. When I finally thought I had found his windpipe, I locked my arms together and kept them there.
Praxis went shooting out of the tent and into full view of the fae. Once we’d reached a clearing, he tried bucking me off him again, kicking his legs out like one of those riding bulls. I’d never ridden one before, but I had my legs wrapped around his stomach and my arms around his neck. I wasn’t going anywhere.
As soon as he figured that out, he straightened up and took on his human form. I tried to keep hold of him, but it was tricky, and I fell flat on my back into the dirt, but I didn’t give him a chance to recover. I kicked the back of his knees as hard as I could, toppling him again.
As he hacked and coughed, I picked myself up and shoulder-charged him into the ground, pressing his face into the wet earth. Screaming, roaring, channeling as much of my power as I could—calling on the strength I’d used that day to block the sledgehammer from turning me into a pancake—I kept his head pressed against the dirt and pinned his shoulders down with my knees.
Praxis was still kicking, still trying to grab hold of me, but there was a force at work here even he wasn’t strong enough to stand up against. I couldn’t understand it myself, but it felt like the light of the full moon was making me stronger, more powerful. The tattoo on the back of my hand glimmered against the moonlight, and I felt… anger. Passionate, powerful anger, and that made me even stronger somehow.
The fae watched, but I wasn’t watching them. I had only Praxis in my mind. Keep him down, keep him pinned, watch his consciousness slip through his fat fingers. I didn’t let him go when he stopped moving, kicking, struggling. I held him down, driven by the anger burning inside of me.
I’d laughed it off when he’d suggested he would do horrible things to me once he won the challenge, but it had scared me. It had scared me because I thought he could do it. Would do it. Would enjoy doing it, too. I wanted him to know I had beaten him; I wanted him to really feel it, to push him to within an inch of his life and then—Ashera knocked me on my ass.
“Are you meaning to kill him?!” she hissed.
I stared at her, then at the large mound in the dirt that was Praxis, panting. “Is he dead?” I asked.
The Alpha knelt beside her packmate and touched her fingers to his throat. She then pulled his face out of the dirt, and looked at me. “He lives, barely.”
“Serves him right for challenging me like that.”
“Had you killed him, we would’ve had to kill you, as our traditions demand.”
“But I didn’t.” I got up. “I beat him, and that means I take his place in the pack, right?”
Ashera stared at me, but said nothing.
“That’s how our people work, isn’t it?” I asked. I spun around and looked at all the fae gathered nearby. I was running hot, adrenaline burning in my bloodstream like fire in my veins.
My eyes met with Mira, who was standing next to Toross. I wasn’t sure where they’d come from, but they both looked shocked. Neither of them spoke. Nobody else spoke. I wasn’t sure what I had expected would happen next. Maybe applause, maybe a cheer. It would’ve been nice, but instead there was only stone-cold silence and stunned faces.
Nobody had expected me to win that fight.
Neither had I.
“You are right,” Ashera said, “You have taken Praxis’ place as my number three.”
When I turned to look at her, she’d bowed her head. “Thank you,” I said. Then I pointed at the Prince, throwing caution to the wind. “I am the white wolf,” I yelled, “There is a prophecy that says I’m going to lead our people out of the darkness and into the light. That man over there is Cillian, he is the Prince of Windhelm… and he is also my mate.”
The fae gasped and parted, making a hole inside of which Prince Cillian stood alone. “What?!” Ashera hissed. “You brought the Prince of that wretched city here?!”
“I did, and I lied to you about it because I couldn’t risk you killing him simply because he is who he is. But now that I’ve marked him as my mate, if you want to kill him, you’ll have to kill me first.”
“Do you think that I can’t?!” Ashera growled.
“No, but I think that you won’t because you know you need me.”
She advanced on me. “I know no such thing,” she said, and she wound back her arm as if to strike me, but Toross stood in front of me.
“Ashera, no,” he said.
The Alpha stared at him, glared at him. “Who do you think you are to get between me and my prey?”
“I am your Beta,” he said, “And she is your third, not prey. You’re making a mistake.”
“You would put your life in front of hers?”
He nodded. “She is the white wolf, Ash. You know it’s true.”
“Even if it’s true, she had no right to bring that filth in here.”
“Maybe not, but she has invoked our traditions. He is her mate. To kill him, you must kill her, and to kill her, you must kill me. Are you willing to do that?”
The Alpha scowled, and for a moment I thought she was going to strike, but she turned on her heel and stormed off. It didn’t take long before the other fae cleared the way, leaving only a handful of us behind, and Praxis face down in the dirt.
“Toross, you—”
“—don’t speak,” he said, cutting me off. “Take him and go until she calms down.”
I wanted to speak, it was my instinct to speak, but I bit my tongue and took what felt like a long walk over to the Prince, passing Mel, Mira, and Gullie on the way. I wasn’t sure if they were proud of me or terrified. In truth, I wasn’t sure how I felt either. I’d just won a victory, but it felt strangely hollow.
Wordless, I took Cillian’s hand and led him away from this place.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“That was… interesting,” Cillian said, once we’d made it to his tent. I shut the flap and pinned it closed. It wouldn’t exactly stop our voices from carrying unless we kept them low, but it would keep prying eyes out of our business, at least. I’d already had enough attention for one day.
Or a week.
I sat down on the bed and dug my face into my hands. “I told them who you were,” I said. “I can’t believe I just did… any of that.”
“What happened?” he asked, “I heard the commotion and came out to see, but I don’t know how it started.”
I shook my head and sighed. “Praxis had heard me talking to the others about you, and… him. He tackled me as I came out of the tent, threatened to tell everyone the secret. The only thing I could think to do was challenge him.”
“That was your only idea?”
I looked up at him. “I wasn’t thinking. That was reckless, and stupid. I should’ve found another way.”
Cillian took a breath. Sighed. “It may have been reckless, but we are both well.” He knelt in front of me and cocked an eyebrow. “In any case, you won the challenge.”
“I could just as easily have lost.”
“Why did you challenge him if you were so unsure?”
“That’s just it. I didn’t stop to think of another way out of the situation. I didn’t even give a thought the possibility that he could beat me, and—you’re right—then what? He gets to do what he wants to me, with me…”
Cillian took my hand. “I never would’ve let that man anywhere near you.”
“I don’t think either of us would’ve had a choice. That’s not how things work around here.”
“Then maybe it’s time the rules changed.” He shook his head and looked off to the side. “I warned you about these people and their practices. They’re barbaric.”
&
nbsp; “Hey,” I placed a hand on his cheek and made him look at me. “They’re my people, too.”
He nodded. “Of course.”
“If you want to be my mate, you’re going to have to throw your prejudices out. Trust me, if this is a culture shock for you, it goes double for me.”
“I am your mate. You made sure the entire village knew about that.”
My cheeks flushed. “I did. I was lost in the moment, riding on a wave of adrenaline.”
“I know what that is like.” He paused. “You just won a challenge. You need to eat and rest. But first we should talk about what it was that Praxis overheard.”
I nodded, took a deep breath, then exhaled. “It’s not all good news like I had hoped.”
“No?”
I looked at his hands. “You know how I feel about the past week or so, right?”
“I do.”
“What do you feel?”
“The last few days have been the best of my life,” he said, “I have never felt as free, or as comfortable, or as full as I am when I’m with you. You are strong, you are witty, intelligent… you are my equal in every way, and you are absolutely beautiful. I could not have asked for a better person to be with. I’m lucky you’ve chosen me.”
I swallowed hard, and the redness in my face deepened. “Wow… that’s—that’s more than I thought you were going to say.”
“Do you not feel the same way?”
“No, I do. I do. I just… hadn’t expected you to say such nice things.” I paused. “I don’t want this to end, Cillian.”
“Must it?”
“If we go through with the only plan we have available to us, it might. I don’t know what will happen, or how it will turn out.”
He took my hand which I’d placed against his cheek and kissed it. “Whatever it is, we will face it together.”
I nodded. “Are you familiar with… exorcism?”
Cillian shut his eyes. “I suspected you would reach this conclusion eventually.”
“You knew we’d get here?”
Marked (The Coldest Fae Book 3) Page 15
