Marked (The Coldest Fae Book 3) by Katerina Martinez (great novels of all time .txt) 📕

lasted minutes, even though only mere seconds had passed. I felt the wind shift, and change direction, ruffling my hair with a sudden jerk. My stomach lifted, then fell, and when I opened my eyes again, I wasn’t standing on the hill anymore.

I was in the woods, on my hands and knees… only my hands weren’t hands.

They were paws; large, white, wolf paws.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER SEVEN

 

 

Oh shit. Oh shit. Shit!

“Dee…” Gullie trailed off, breathless, “What did you… do?”

“I don’t know!”

“Wait, you can talk?!”

“Holy shit, I’m talking!” I tried to stand, but my legs felt different, as did my hands, my face, my skin. Everything as different, everything was… wrong, but also absolutely right. Scanning the woods around me, I realized that I could see way better than I’d been able to the last time I was here. I could hear the flutter of birds, the chirping of bugs, and the hiss of the wind as it whispered between trees.

I felt strong, powerful, my senses were sharper than they had ever been, and I had freaking paws. I couldn’t see myself, but I didn’t have to look at myself to get an idea of what had just happened. I had transformed, just like those fae had. Somehow, I’d let go of my human skin—the body I’d had my entire life—and I’d taken on the body of this wolf.

This white wolf.

I felt Gullie settle between my shoulders, at the base of my neck. I tried turning to look at her, but my neck wouldn’t bend that far. “Hey, what are you doing?” I asked.

“I’ve always wanted to ride something,” she said, “And you’re literally the biggest, prettiest, scariest white wolf I’ve ever seen, so I’m gonna ride you.”

“I’m really a wolf? This isn’t some weird fever dream? Did I hit my head on those rocks or something?”

“No, you really are a wolf, and it’s awesome. Now, are we gonna find that asshole or what? Giddy up!”

Spinning around sharply, I turned my nose to the ground and almost immediately picked up Jaleem’s scent. He was close. He hadn’t gone far.

“I don’t appreciate being told to giddy up,” I said, “I’m not a horse.”

“Whatever, let’s go!”

Gullie tugged on my fur, and I leapt into a fast run. I’d never run on all fours before. It wasn’t something that was supposed to come naturally, and yet, it came to me as easily as breathing. The wind whistled past my ears, ruffling my fur, the whiskers on my snout. I could feel the snow crunching under my paws, and the soft, wet dirt beneath it, and those new instincts I had?

They were well and truly in the driver’s seat, now. I was following the scent ahead of me as it weaved in, out, and around trees, leaping over obstacles and crawling under others, and doing without any real conscious thought. My instincts were pulling me along toward my goal, and all I had to do was… watch.

Watch for clues.

Watch for Jaleem.

Watch for danger.

The wolf-fae had gotten a solid head start, but I was certain I was catching up. I could see his pawprints in the snow, and I had a feeling mine were bigger, bolder. I flattened the impressions his paws left whenever I stepped into one, and that made me feel good about my chances about beating him once I’d finally reached him.

Because that was the other part of this trial.

Lay him low.

It wasn’t good enough for me to catch him. No. I also had to kick his ass, and that was fine with me. He’d bitten me twice, now, and yes, both injuries had healed. That didn’t mean they hadn’t hurt. It didn’t mean I was going to let them slide. I wanted to sink my own teeth into him, make him hurt for a change.

And that was different, too. I’d rarely wanted to seriously injure someone. That wasn’t like me. Then again, was I even like me anymore? Or was it a case that I wasn’t like her anymore? The old Dahlia, the one from Carnaby Street, from the Magic Box. Who even was she?

Who was I?

A twig snapped nearby, snatching my attention. Pausing, stiff as a statue, I sniffed the air. My hackles rose, as did the fur on my back. Gullie kept hold of me as best she could, but I knew she would only be in danger so long as she was near me, so I asked her to get off me and find a tree to perch on.

Without argument, Gullie took off and headed up into the trees, the soft green light of her magic fading once she’d settled on a branch.

The woods were dark around me, but I could still see pretty well despite the gloom. The colors of the forest had been completely drowned out, replaced by a spectrum of black to white, but there wasn’t color in this forest to begin with, so that didn’t bother me. What did bother me was the absolute silence, because there, lurking within the quiet, were the distant grumbles of the Veridian—that perpetual storm that existed just over the next mountain.

Always there, but always out of reach.

I hadn’t heard it for a while, but I could hear it now, loud and clear. The rumble of thunder, the whip of violent lightning arcs, the violent whoosh of high-speed winds and… something like a whisper. Barely present, not strong enough or loud enough for me to identify the voice or any of the words being carried over on the wind, but a voice all the same.

I had split my attention for barely an instant, when a dark wolf came charging out of the woods and attacked. It tried to sink its teeth into my neck, but I ducked under it and forced it to go tumbling to the ground. I didn’t have hands, but I had a snout, and teeth. I bared my fangs at the wolf and lunged, nipping and snapping at its hide as it tried to stand, searching