Gilded Serpent by Danielle Jensen (top 10 novels txt) 📕

chased away his exhaustion as they scrambled up the steep slope, losing a foot for every two that they gained. His mittened hands slipped on the slick rocks, his feet finding no traction. Teriana was more nimble, climbing rapidly, but she kept looking over her shoulder at the opposite slope.

“Focus on—”

He was cut off as her foot slipped. On hands and knees, she slid down, colliding with him and nearly sending them both tumbling to the bottom. Catching her around the waist, Marcus held on until she’d regained her grip. “If they come, they come. Watching it happen won’t change anything.”

But it was nearly impossible to take his own advice as they scrambled upward, his pulse roaring in his ears. It felt like his back was exposed to a line of bowmen, his skin crawling, the need to turn around and look almost unbearable.

Climb.

The slope was steepening, not quite vertical but close to it. More like a wall than a hill. And the wolves could be right behind him and he wouldn’t know it. He hazarded a glance back.

Nothing.

Teriana was almost to the top, jamming her toes into footholds and hauling herself up. She paused on an outcropping, the lip of the ridge just within reach. But it was capped with a thick crust of snow. She reached for a handhold, but the snow only broke off, slamming her in the face. “Shit!” she snarled, knocking loose more snow that rained down on Marcus as he joined her on the outcropping.

Behind him, the echo of a stone falling down an incline echoed in his ears.

Don’t look.

He turned his head. Black shapes poured silently down the opposite slope, moving at incredible speed, built for this terrain in a way he and Teriana weren’t.

Grabbing Teriana by the waist, he lifted her. “Climb!”

She scrabbled, hands knocking loose snow that hit him in the face, then she was rising, boots pushing against his shoulders.

She was up.

Her sharp intake of breath indicated she saw the pack. Leaning over the edge, she reached down. “They’re almost at the bottom! Take my hand!”

“I’ll pull you off.” He was already moving sideways, heading toward the tracks the wolf had made when it had climbed. “Get the door open. Get the beams ready. Go!”

Her boots thudded against the ground as she ran, but Marcus’s attention was on the path the wolf had taken. A place where the ridgeline had broken, collapsing in on itself. Climbable, but he had minutes.

Maybe less.

Shoving his mittens in his belt, Marcus reached for a handhold, pushing his fingers deep into the cracks, the rock scraping his skin.

Faster.

Toes scrabbling for purchase, he climbed, stones and snow breaking loose to tumble into the gully below.

And he could hear them. The thud of paws against the ground. The soft pant of breath coming from a dozen muzzles. The scrape of claws against rocks and ice as they climbed.

Don’t look.

Mist puffed in front of his face with every panicked gasp, his skin crawling with the anticipation of fangs latching onto one of his legs. Dragging him down. Tearing him apart while Teriana listened to his screams.

You’re almost there.

He was at the lip of the incline, elbow digging into the snow, reaching with his other hand for something to grip. Anything.

The snow gave.

He started to slide backward.

Marcus clawed frantically for a handhold, but everything broke loose, and he was going to fall.

Then the end of a blanket slapped against the ground in front of him. “Grab hold!”

He desperately snatched the wool, climbing hand over hand, feeling the wolves beneath him. Knowing they were coming.

He rolled over the lip, scrambling to his feet. “Run!”

Teriana turned and sprinted toward the open door, Marcus six paces behind.

Don’t look back.

He looked back.

Two wolves leapt over the ridge’s edge, ears pinned and teeth bared, racing for the kill.

Two more strides!

He threw himself forward, rolling across the floor of the shack as Teriana slammed the door behind him and dropped a beam into place.

Bang!

One of the animals hit the door, making the whole building shake. Teriana asked, “Are you all right?”

Marcus couldn’t get enough breath into his lungs to answer but managed a nod. Every inch of his body demanded that he lie on the floor and never move again, but he forced himself to scan the small space, looking for weaknesses while the wolves flung themselves against the walls, snarling their fury.

It was nearly identical to the shack they’d left behind, but the posts forming the walls were bolted to bedrock rather than embedded in the dirt. Assuming the bolts held against the onslaught, it was a mercy, because it meant the animals couldn’t dig their way under.

Shoving off his satchel of supplies, Marcus opened the flue on the stove, hands shaking as he struck his knife against flint. Sparks flew into the tinder that the prior visitor had left set while Teriana stored the meat as far from the stove as possible. “We’ll have to keep it cool in here tonight,” he said, blowing gently on the flames. “Don’t want that meat to thaw and begin to spoil.”

“I know.” Going to the little trap door in the wall, she opened it and then shook her head. “Wind’s blown it back, and I’m not sticking my arm out.”

In answer, one of the wolves stuck its nose through the opening, snarling. Teriana leapt back, then with a shriek of rage, she lunged, kicking the animal hard. It yelped and tried to recoil, but got stuck and she kicked it once more before the wolf freed itself.

“I hate you!” She screamed the words not in Cel, which was what she normally spoke around him, but in Trader’s Tongue—Mudamorian. “I wish you’d all burn in the underworld, you filthy beasts.”

She slammed the trap shut, then kicked the wall violently enough that she doubled over in pain, resting her hands on her knees as she screamed in wordless anger.

Marcus didn’t interrupt. Rage was good. Rage meant she’d keep fighting. Rage meant she was still with him.

Instead, he set