Queen of Myth and Monsters (Adrian X Isolde, #2)(76)

“Isolde,” Sorin hissed as I crept closer.

I looked back at him and put my finger to my lips, glaring. My weapons were in the room, and I wanted them, but as I neared my door and peered through the wrecked doorframe, I saw that my room was still occupied by a vârcolac.

It must have sensed me because it turned its glowing, red eyes upon me and bellowed a scream-like roar.

I stumbled back, fumbling as I turned around.

“Run!” I yelled at Sorin as the creature exploded from my room. It used the wall as a springboard, flying through the air, landing in front of us, barring our escape.

Sorin lifted his blade.

“This would be a really great time for you to shift, Isolde,” he said, gritting his teeth.

“Maybe if I’d had a better teacher,” I returned.

The vârcolac roared again and rose on its hind legs, towering over us. He struck at Sorin, his razor-sharp claws tangling with his blade.

I raced back to my room to retrieve my sword, but just as my hand touched the hilt, another vârcolac rose from the shattered mirror on my floor.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

There was no hesitation. The vârcolac did not even attempt to assess me as prey; it just pounced, a horrible growling coming from deep in its throat. I gripped my sword but knew the creature was too close for me to succeed in any kind of attack. I managed to jump out of the way, but just as quickly, the vârcolac whirled and charged.

This time, I swung my sword, gripping it with both hands. The blade cut into the vârcolac’s paw but did not sever it. Blood poured onto my hilt and my hands, and while I tried to jerk my blade free, the vârcolac snapped at me. I fell to the ground to avoid its bite and crawled, but was flattened on the ground by a giant paw, its five sharp claws sinking into my back. I screamed and twisted, shoving my dagger into its arm.

It offered a loud shriek that rang in my ears, and I was able to stumble to my feet and run. I hit the doorframe, unsteady on my feet, and when I made it into the hallway, Sorin was facing two vârcolaci, the one behind me having also followed. I leaned against the wall, weak, and I thought of Sorin and our sessions. They moved through my mind quickly, and I latched on to a few words he had spoken.

This is magic, he’d said. You just have to reach for it.

I recalled how I had felt during the spell in the woods. How it had felt like my very womb had split open, and it had been full of light, full of magic, full of warmth, and it had given me hope—and then it felt as though it had been taken, snatched from me by hate.

But it hadn’t. It had just been suppressed.

It was afraid, just as I was afraid now.

That was the design of oppression.

I turned my head toward the vârcolac, and a growl vibrated in my throat. It was the first time I’d witnessed the monster pause to assess me. I pushed off the wall and growled louder, the sound animalistic, primal. Then I took off down the hallway, my legs carrying me faster than they ever had before.

I felt my insides changing, and the pain was acute. It made me gnash my teeth, which had elongated. Blood spilled on the ground as my claws exploded from my fingertips, and as I changed, I launched myself at the two vârcolaci facing Sorin. He was bleeding badly, only holding his sword with one hand, the other arm limp at his side.

I went for the neck as I collided with one of the vârcolaci and bit down hard, yanking as we landed. The other creature slammed into me, and I flew across the floor, hitting the banister of the stairs, but I bounced back to my feet, a growl rumbling in my throat. I sprang, but so did the vârcolac, and we tangled in the air, biting and lashing at one another. We landed in a heap, continuing the close combat. The creature bit my shoulder, and its claws sank into my belly. I screamed in its face and then bit its snout and did not let go, my claws digging into its sides, and I only released the creature when I felt its hold on me lessen. Once it did, I tore out its neck just as I had the other.

Sorin’s cry drew my attention, and when I turned to face the final vârcolac, the tracker had been thrown down the hall. His back hit the wall, and he slid to the ground, unmoving.

I snarled and shot toward the monster. Our bodies hit hard, and it knocked the breath from my body, snapping my ribs. When I landed on my feet, opposite the vârcolac, pain shot through me, and yet I charged again. Our teeth sank into each other’s shoulders, and as we landed, we rolled. I could not manage to get the upper hand, and I lay beneath the creature, its claws sinking deep inside me. And while I tried to lock my jaw into the monster, pain shot through me, roaring from my throat, and I released it.

But then there was a wet sound, and blood poured onto my body. The vârcolac lessened its hold and then fell, landing beside me on the ground. I turned my head to find Sorin, standing with his bloodied blade.

I wanted to call his name, but I could not speak in this form, and I had no idea how to shift back.

He looked down at me, and there was something horrifying about his face, a darkness in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Isolde,” he said and lifted his blade.

Shock left me immobile as his sword sank into my chest. I screamed, and as I did, I felt myself changing back. Tears poured from my eyes, and Sorin fell to his knees beside me, gathering me to his chest.

“I’m so sorry,” he said. He was crying too.

I did not want him to touch me. I could not understand why he was holding me.