The stake in my gut was the only thing keeping me anchored to the world. Every breath was a struggle.
I looked at Fenrir. He lay ten feet away, his chest barely moving.
"Get up," I whispered. My voice was a rattle. "Fenrir, get up."
A soft crunch of boots echoed through the gorge. I expected Torin or a rescue.
Instead, a black silk hem dragged across the white drifts.
Hecate.
She was broken. Her left arm hung at a useless angle, and blood leaked from her forehead.
Behind her, Valerius stood there, clutching his side, his face a mask of indecision.
"You are so hard to kill," Hecate rasped. She leaned over me, "But look at you. Pinned like a butterfly to the earth."
"Valerius," I wheezed, looking past her. "End it. Kill her."
Valerius stepped forward, his hand on the Dragon-Tooth blade. He looked at me, then at the dying Fenrir. The fear in him was deeper than the loyalty.
"I can't, Kaelen," Valerius whispered. "She is the source. Without her, I wither."
"Coward," I spat. The slight movement of my body sent a jolt of agony through my spine.
Hecate reached down, her fingers cold, as she gripped the wooden stake protruding from my body. "I'm going to pull this out very slowly. And then I'm going to watch the life drain out of you while I finish my son."
"No," I growled.
"Who will stop me? You're a broken prince in a dying body."
As she began to pull, I screamed. But as the pain reached its peak, something shifted.
I felt Fenrir's life force pour into me. But it wasn't the heat of a mate. It was the raw, primal energy of the Iron Fang lineage.
And deep beneath that, the ancient, dormant power of the Black Ridge King roared in response.
Hecate's eyes widened. "What is this?"
I grabbed her wrist. I didn't pull the stake out; I pushed myself up it, sliding through the agony until I was inches from her face.
"You wanted a monster," I hissed.
I drove my fingers into her throat, my nails lengthening into talons.
Hecate didn't scream. She made a wet, bubbling sound as her life and the dark magic that sustained her spilled onto the snow.
She collapsed, her body finally surrendering to the century of age she had cheated, as she shriveled in seconds.
The Queen Mother was dead.
I slumped back against the rock, the stake still in me.
I looked at Valerius.
He was backed against the canyon wall, his eyes wide with terror. He looked at Hecate's remains, then at the blood on my hands.
"Kaelen..." he breathed.
"Run," I said. "Run as far as the shadows go, Valerius. Because if I ever see you again, I won't just kill you. I'll erase you."
Valerius didn't hesitate. He turned and vanished into the mist.
I crawled to Fenrir. My vision was failing, the edges of the world blurring into a hazy, vibrating gray. I reached him, pulling his head into my lap.
"Wake up," I pleaded. "Fenrir, please."
He gasped, his eyes snapping open. "Is it... over?"
"It's over," I said.
But it wasn't.
A sound began to rise in the gorge, coming from inside me.
My heart felt too big for my chest. My skin began to itch, a thousand needles pricking from the inside out.
I looked at my hands. The fingers were lengthening, the hair on my arms was thickening, turning a midnight black.
"Kaelen?" Fenrir whispered.
I tried to speak, but the words turned into a jagged, guttural growl.
The first snap was my ribs. They cracked and reformed, widening my torso. Then my spine elongated, the vertebrae popping. I fell to all fours, the stake in my gut being forced out by the sheer mass of muscle and fur.
I threw my head back. The scream that left my throat was the howl of a wolf, louder than any Shadow Wolf.
I looked at Fenrir. He was staring at me, his hand trembling as he reached out to touch the black fur of my snout.
"Kaelen?" he asked again.
The last thing I saw before the wolf's instinct took over was the horizon.
And another wolf in the distance. The moment our eyes locked, we let out a howl in unison.
And it felt like I'd known it all my life. A strange familiar recognition