I reach out a hand and project this new intensity within, bubbling to be released. I must be half-mad as old Ignixis, but instinct compels me.
Roaring flames burst from the creature’s maw, so blinding white it’s difficult to look upon. The sneachir flails in agony, its massive form buckling beneath the onslaught as its flesh chars to blackened husks from the inside out. Its milky eyes melt from their sockets, dripping down its monstrous skull before itcrashes lifeless to the ground. Only its writhing death throes remain—a pathetic echo of its former might.
The acrid scent of burning flesh fills the air, smoke thickening around me as I lower my hand, staring at it in disbelief. Elation replaces confusion as realization dawns on me—this is the power I was promised!
Arawnoth’s blessing!
The merest fraction of his torrid wrath brought to reality. This is it! This is the power I will use to reclaim my destiny, boiling the blood from Krogoth’s veins and become who I was always meant to be—The War Chieftain, the rightful heir to my father, Gorexius.
My Rush dissipates, the joy flooding through me washing it away. I reach out toward the sizzling corpse of the sneachir, attempting to pour more fire into it. But there’s nothing—just emptiness. Even reaching that strange place of fires is beyond me now, like grasping at vapor. I frown with frustration, but I know this is but a taste of what’s coming.
I strain. My muscles bulge with effort, dragging the titanic remains of the sneachir from the icy waters onto the frozen surface. Once I’m finished here, I will send hunters to retrieve this body. Such a fine kill. I shall craft cloaks from its scales and feast on its flesh for my coming Mortakin-Tok celebrations. We shall be adorned in its scales, a mantle of my triumph.
But I feel her now—my bonded mate, somewhere not far to the northeast. She’s still in trouble, though her terror is gone, her body still freezes in this wretched tundra.
I waste no time passing the enclosure, continuing through the crevasse as it narrows soon again. I test for traps, not trusting the soft snow crouching beneath my armored feet, although I find none. Seems the Virennix hunters weren’t as foolish as I to stumble into a sneachir’s lair.
Soon, I emerge from the tunnel-like passage. The full force of the icy wind and snow swirling through the air and stinging my skin. A steep climb awaits me, a treacherous wall of slippery icy snow covering layers of permafrost.
I groan as my sharp claws dig into the walls, unable to stop even if I wanted. The bond gnaws at my gut, demanding that I reach her.
The ice seers my flesh as I, in turn, melt any that touches me. This land and I are opposed by our very natures, like magnetic forces repelling one another. But I will not be repulsed, not until I have her in my grasp. The only question that claws at my mind, the one that sets my blood aflame:
Which female is it?
Chapter 37
Alexandra
Blaze
Myheartpoundserraticallyas Ignixis’s scraping footsteps fade into the distance, leaving me alone with these... creatures and my horror. But I only have eyes for the dozens of revolting cyloillars writhing and skittering across the frozen ground with surprising speed. My breath freezes in frantic fear as I flinch as far as the chain will allow.
Fuck, if I move too much, maybe they’ll notice me and attack?
I try to remain still until a yellow monster with its mouthparts twitching approaches. An involuntary scream tears through my throat as I leap away, desperately try to track all their movements. My head whips side to side, but it’s impossible to follow their skittering movements.
A group to my left seems preoccupied, scraping and burrowing at the icy wall, which gives me a flicker of hope.
“Ahh!” I shriek as something brushes my foot.
I look down to see a leathery red cyloillar skittering across my toes. Revulsion pulses through me. Without thinking, I kick, sending the thing flying like an empty hairspray can. It slaps against the crystalline wall with a wet thud.
Huh?
Panting, I hastily examine my foot, expecting blood streaming down and maybe some toes missing. But there’s nothing—just hardened leather wrapped around my toes, numb from the cold.
Wait, a goddamn second here.
I frown, studying the creatures through a new lens—one lacking Ignixis’s terrifying words.
They don’t seem interested in me in the slightest. In fact, most scurry toward the walls, their twitching mandibles frantically trying to break through the frozen surfaces to no avail.
Maybe they don’t think I’m tasty? No, that’s impossible. I would be delicious.
It’s like they’re more frightened of me than I am of them.
What the hell is going on here?Did Ignixis screw up? Not impossible considering the botched operation he and the giant bore have been running. Like he ordered flesh-eating monsters and ended up with cuddly pets? I feel my frantic heartbeat steadying, my breathing returning to normal.
