1. Sapphire

Sapphire

Zoey’s blood seeps through my shirt as I carry her through the forest, leaving a trail that anyone—or anything—can follow. Her breathing is shallow, her skin burning with fever despite the freezing air around us as I use the wind behind me to run through the forest in the Wandering Wilds.

A place that’s apparently more dangerous than the Winter Court.

A place where a dark angel with black wings and mesmerizing eyes, with both air magic and water magic, tried to kill me and Zoey the moment we left Winter Court territory.

And then… I killed him.

I ran my dagger through his heart, killed him, and satiated my growing hunger by draining his corpse of blood.

Who’s more of a monster? Me, or him?

I don’t know.

Right now, all that matters is getting to safety and saving Zoey’s life.

“Just hold on,” I whisper to her, keeping momentum, refusing to slow down. “We’re going to make it.”

She doesn’t respond. She’s as unconscious as she’s been since the dark angel flung her aside like trash, slamming her into a tree.

But she’s not going to die. I refuse to let her die.

Head west after crossing the ravine, until you see a grove of frost-tipped pines, I repeat Riven’s instructions in my mind as I run.

A rabbit darts out from beneath a bush, stopping when it sees me. Its eyes go wide, and it bolts away so quickly that snow sprays up behind it.

I keep going.

As the small animal knows, it’s the prey. I’m the predator. Best to get as far away from me as possible.

Eventually, the grove of frost-tipped pines appears ahead, their crystalline needles sparkling under the starlight.

It’s beautiful. But I’m not here to sightsee.

What’s next?

Look for a cluster of stark white birch trees with twisted trunks, I remember Riven saying to me.

Zoey and I repeated his instructions dozens of times so neither of us would forget them.

As I continue running through the pine grove, the memory of drinking the dark angel’s blood flashes through my mind. The way his life force strengthened me. The way my new fangs pierced his skin.

But I can’t think about that now. I have to follow Riven’s directions. I have to bring Zoey to safety. Every minute that passes is a minute she’s closer to death.

Suddenly, a shadow moves through the trees to my left.

I spin toward it, clutching Zoey closer.

Nothing’s there.

But that doesn’t mean nothing was there.

“Riven?” I call out softly.

Hopefully it’s him. Hopefully he heard me through the whisper stone when I reached out to him while the dark angel was trying to kill me. Hopefully he’s coming to help me as I navigate these mysterious, magical woods that hum with a dark sort of power that’s impossible to ignore.

Silence answers.

More shadows flicker through the trees, and my chest tightens.

Did his knights follow us? Or are there other creatures in these Wandering Wilds, waiting to attack?

But I can’t just stand here.

I have to keep going.

Zoey’s life—and my life—depends on it.

Eventually, panic sets in, squeezing my lungs so tightly that it slows my running.

Did I make a wrong turn somewhere? Am I lost? Am I going to run in circles until another dark angel—or maybe a group of them—finds us and actually kills us?

I don’t know.

But then, finally, I burst out of the pine grove.

Ahead, stark white birch trees with twisted trunks reach toward the night sky like gnarled fingers ready to grab anyone who passes their way.

I’m about to take off running again, and a deer steps into my path.

It rears back, terror flashing in its eyes, and bolts back into the forest.

Power rushes through me as I stare at the opening where it disappeared.

Apparently, I ooze predatory darkness now. Which is somehow unnerving and comforting at the same time.

Putting it out of my mind, I reach for my magic, calling on the wind to propel me forward as I run, holding Zoey’s unconscious body closer to my chest as I do.

Follow the birch trees until you reach a fallen tree shaped like an arch, the next part of Riven’s instructions plays through my mind.

The forest hums, alive with energy, every step through the snow echoing louder than it should.

Be quiet, I think to myself. I am air. I can walk on it—create a thin padding between myself and the ground. It’ll take more magic—and thus, more energy—but I can do it. Silently, leaving no tracks.

My steps immediately feel lighter, like I’m floating just above the ground as I run. Almost like I’m flying.

The shadows shift again, darting behind a nearby birch. My heart races as I scan the area, pounding so hard that it makes me dizzy.

Something’s out there.

Not a rabbit. Not a deer.

Something far more dangerous.

I don’t know how I know.

I just do.

But Zoey doesn’t have time for me to entertain my paranoia. So, I clutch her tighter and push forward, calling on the air to make me light as a feather, and as fast as the wind.

Something scrapes against bark overhead.

I freeze, scanning the twisted branches above me.

The shadows between them are darker than they should be. They’re moving in ways that shadows shouldn’t move.

Or maybe it’s just this realm in general? Maybe the Wandering Wilds are playing tricks on my mind?

Anything’s possible.

But the one thing I know for sure is that I need to keep going.

I have to find the fallen tree shaped like an arch.

Scrape, I hear again, closer this time. Like skeletal fingers dragging across wood. I cringe as a chill runs through my brain, like when hearing nails against a chalkboard, or like when I hear anything against styrofoam.

I’ve always hated styrofoam.

I glance upward, searching the canopy of twisted branches for the source of the noise.

There it is.

A creature clings to the tree trunk, impossibly thin and skeletal. Its limbs are elongated and jointed at unnatural angles, and its body is wrapped in bark-like armor that blends seamlessly into the birch.

If it wasn’t moving, I’d think it was another branch. But as it shifts, moonlight catches on what looks like ribs protruding from its chest. My eyes travel down its arms—to its razor-sharp claws that dig into the bark.

Its hollow eyes lock onto mine.

For a heartbeat, neither of us moves.

Then, its jaw unhinges, revealing rows of terrifyingly jagged teeth.

It’s hunting us.

I’m going to have to fight it—while also protecting Zoey’s unconscious body. If I don’t, it’s going to follow us, like it’s been following us for who knows how long already.

Unless...

It’ll be risky. I’ll be leaving both Zoey—and myself—vulnerable.

But to fight this thing, I’m going to have to separate from Zoey no matter what.

Best to keep this tree monster as far away from Zoey as possible. And right now, there’s only one way I can think of to do that. A way that’s worked for me in the past—and will hopefully work for me now.

Decision made, I place Zoey down as gently as I can, situate myself beside her, and project.

One second, I’m on the ground.

The next, I’m balancing on the branch, right next to this creature that looks like a deformed, monstrous, supernatural child of a person and a tree.

Then, I drive my dagger—the one still stained with the dark angel’s blood—straight at the creature’s chest.