Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 128061 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128061 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
His big arm came around, smacking me. I flew ass-over-tea-kettle, not sure when to open my wings lest I get it wrong and tweak one. In the end, I just threw up a wall to slam against, stopping my fall so I could get my bearings. He was after me in a moment, nearly there—the kill shot.
Fear doused me. I reacted hard, maybe too hard. The burst of magic was so intense, it made my eyes water.
His roar turned into a howl as my spell ripped into his middle. A huge, horrible gash opened up in his stomach, and blood poured out, not all of it red.
His wings fluttered and he hunched over, clutching at himself. He dropped in altitude, hugging the wound. I couldn’t tell if it was because of the pain, because of that strange orange blood, or a combination of both.
I could end this right here. I could drop him to the ground and claim victory. But he was losing so much blood. What if he didn’t heal in time and bled out? Or what if he continued to bleed that strange blood and someone identified his otherness? I’d just spent all morning deciding I wouldn’t reveal him, and here I might’ve done it accidentally!
Making a quick decision, I crashed into him, smushing my front against his and wrapping my wings around him. Immediately my healing magic got to work; it was quicker with contact.
“Wh-yy?” he asked, and I wasn’t sure what he meant. Why heal him? Why help him? Did he think I lacked any sort of morals?
More darts flew as we sank in the air. He scratched at me, but the scrapes were superficial, as his claws barely pierced my flesh. I felt confusion and concern through the bond from Austin. I sent back assurance and confidence, scratching Tristan with my feet to pretend we were wrestling.
He ripped me to the side, his wings snapping. He didn’t break my hold, though. He knew I was healing him.
Shifters paced below, wanting to be part of the fight, seeing their opportunity as Tristan and I continued to sink through the air. Hot blood still seeped against me, and I knew he would’ve bled out. I’d slashed him way too deep.
“Fl-iie,” I said. I wasn’t nearly as good at talking in this form. “Uup. Hoor-ee.”
His wings worked, and we shot up quickly. I could feel his wince as he did so.
“Wh-yy?” he asked again, apparently assuming I had any kind of mastery with my mouth.
Fatigue started to pull at me with too much of my energy going into him. It only needed to go a bit longer, though. Just a little bit longer, and he’d be out of danger.
I pulled my wings away and flapped them wildly, continuing to scratch at him. He grabbed hold of me, squeezing me close, and then tumbled us through the air. Spit flew out of the side of my mouth from the velocity at which we were suddenly moving. I was pretty sure I was the one screaming, now clutching him for dear life. The ground jiggled in my vision, really far away. Then he dove, and I was definitely the one screaming.
His chuckle was dark and wicked as he spun us. My stomach shoved into my back and then out through my mouth as we spiraled toward the ground.
“Am I go-od?” he asked as I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment. I’d never flown this fast and recklessly in all my life.
I unclenched my jaw with effort. “Goo-ud.” Close enough.
Nearer the ground now, he shoved me away from him, scratching long gashes across my arms as he did so.
So he thought we’d battle for a bit longer, did he?
This time I would control myself more and end this once and for all (without killing him).
My roar of challenge was dwarfed by his, but it was no less effective.
And then we were at it again—Tristan charging through the air at a speed that was still too fast despite his injury, and me back-pedaling because it was incredibly jarring. I hit him with magic, blunt spells stuffed with a crapload of power. They were much too simplistic to ever use on mages, but even with his natural protection, they rocked his world. He was knocked sideways, then back. His grunts came faster, louder. He visibly flagged, not able to get to me, not able to keep up. I kept shooting them off. More and more, harder and harder, starting to flag now but not easing up. My practice had all led up to this.
With one last effort, which he clearly poured everything into, he darted forward to grab me. His claws sliced down my side. Blood immediately welled up and then started flowing down.
I shoved him back with magic…and then waved goodbye.
The spell I used to snap his wings to his sides shocked the hell out of him. His eyes widened, showing the whites all around. Then he dropped like a stone.