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

“—have your way with me over and over again, blah, bla,” I said, rolling my eyes. “That’s really original. Did you think of that all by yourself?”

“How dare you talk to me like that?!” he roared.

“I told you. I’m the white fucking wolf.”

I willed my body to change shape, and as my legs began to contract I was able to wriggle out of his grasp and get free. I scrambled to get to my feet, but no sooner had I turned around to face him again had Praxis taken on his own wolf form. He was huge—his fur jet black and bristly, his eyes deep green and filled with predatory cunning.

His teeth were so large and sharp, they were terrifying to look at. If I let him grab hold of me with those teeth, I knew, I was done. I would have no way of making him let go, and he would be free to rend me apart like a wolf with a piece of meat. Instead of attacking him head on, I started running, forcing him to give chase.

The fae parted for me as I charged past them. I made sure to go right past Ashera, making her get out of my way as well. Praxis gave chase, the much larger, black wolf thundering through the moon children’s village, his paws thudding against the dirt. He was panting, his breaths coming out harsh and ragged, but he wasn’t about to get tired anytime soon.

I was likely to run out of breath before him, but I needed a plan. There was no way of beating him without one. I didn’t think I was strong enough to take him on in a straight brawl, so I had to use the one thing I had which he didn’t—my intelligence.

Instead of heading up into the mountains, I used the tents in the village as cover, ducking and weaving between them, trying to confuse him. He had my scent, so there was no way to shake him off that way, but it was still dinner time in the village, and the air was heavy with the smell of various foods and drinks.

If I could make him question where I’d gone even for a moment, I might just have a chance.

I noticed a large cluster of tents, all woven together and split up by heavy curtains. I ducked into it, pushing through the flap, and then moving through the adjoining rooms using nothing but my nose to guide me. I could smell the outside, there was a breeze in here, and that meant there was another opening, probably somewhere in the back.

I didn’t go there. Instead, I threw myself behind a dresser and changed out of my wolf form and into my human form. I was smaller like this, less likely to be noticed. I was also fully clothed in my suit of white, leather armor. Toross had taught me the Rite of Binding, which allowed me to consecrate the clothes I was wearing so I could keep them on me as I shapeshifted.

It had already come in handy.

I heard Praxis come sniffing into the tent. He’d followed my scent, but the air was thick with spices and meats. As I peered around the dresser, I noticed him moving through one of the adjoining rooms. He had his nose to the ground as he went, trying to pick my scent out from the white noise around him.

He was headed for this room. My heart was pounding, thundering, hammering so hard I thought he would be able to hear it with those wolf ears. I had to hold my breath because there was a chance he could’ve heard that, too, and at least that was something I could control.

As he moved closer to the dresser, he stopped, then turned. The breeze moving through the tent had confused him. Had I gone through the opening on the other side, or had I turned around and hidden somewhere? He wasn’t sure, and that meant I’d found my moment.

With all my might I shoved the dresser I was hiding behind, bringing it down on top of him with a loud crash. Praxis collapsed under it, but the dresser alone wasn’t enough to knock him unconscious. He was already struggling to get out from under it.

As he backed up, covered in some of the dresser’s contents, I leapt on top of him and wrapped my arms around his neck. He was huge, but that only made him an easy target. Wildly he bucked and kicked, trying to shake me off him. When that didn’t work, he turned around and started speeding out the way he had come, making sure to crash into every possible obstacle on the way.

Spots of pain erupted all along my shoulders, my back, my arms, but I couldn’t let go of him. I had to keep my arms wrapped around his neck and squeeze as tightly as I could. When I finally thought I had found his windpipe, I locked my arms together and kept them there.

Praxis went shooting out of the tent and into full view of the fae. Once we’d reached a clearing, he tried bucking me off him again, kicking his legs out like one of those riding bulls. I’d never ridden one before, but I had my legs wrapped around his stomach and my arms around his neck. I wasn’t going anywhere.

As soon as he figured that out, he straightened up and took on his human form. I tried to keep hold of him, but it was tricky, and I fell flat on my back into the dirt, but I didn’t give him a chance to recover. I kicked the back of his knees as hard as I could, toppling him again.

As he hacked and coughed, I picked myself up and shoulder-charged him into the ground, pressing his face into the wet earth. Screaming, roaring, channeling as much of my power as I could—calling on