Page 62 of A Trial of Two Worlds
Shit. I was out of time.
Ignoring the pain of my injuries, I forced myself to move. I was used to enduring pain. After the hunters’ torture, these wounds were a motherfucking cakewalk.
Murmurs and gasps erupted on all sides as I entered the clearing, but my focus was set on reaching my arrows. My breathing quickened as I saw my prize embedded in the tall grass. One lone arrow stood upright in the clearing, and I knew this was my chance.
Dashing forward, I pumped my arms and legs harder than I thought possible. The pounding echo of wings became louder and louder with each step I forced myself to take. Gilen was closing in, ready for a final strike to end this challenge once and for all.
Except, so was I.
I readied my bow in my left hand. My grip was firm, yet relaxed, preparing to execute a blind-turn-around shot that I had perfected with Daxton and Gunnar.
The arrow’s fletching traced over my fingers. The feathers caressed my palm as I grabbed the shaft and pulled it free from the dirt. Placing the arrow against the string of my bow, I inhaled a full breath, filling my lungs to the point of pain as I locked my left arm and pulled back on the bowstring with the other.
“I’m sorry, Gilen,”I whispered as I turned, releasing my arrow on a calm, even breath.
I watched as the arrow soared through the air and embedded itself in the roc’s shoulder. Gilen’s screech of pain echoed loud enough for all of Solace to hear.
The arrow might not have penetrated his armored feathers if this had been an ordinary arrow. However, this was an iron-tipped arrow. The same weapon he gave me the night I shot and almost killed Daxton.
The roc screamed as it narrowly missed me overhead, tumbling and flailing into the grass field behind me. Gilen shifted into his human form, bloodied and wounded with an arrow protruding through his shoulder.
“Iron!” Gilen swore into the dirt. “You fucking shot me with an iron arrow!”
I swallowed heavily, sweat dripping from my brow.
Gilen was shaky but managed to push himself onto his feet. His body was battered and bruised, the iron weakening his magic as his muscles twitched.
“Your aim seems to have faltered during your time away,” Gilen spat. “You missed.”
“Did I?” I asked with a dark chuckle. “Inevermiss Gilen, you know that.”
Naked and bloodied, he stood in the field, reaching up to break the shaft of the arrow and pull it free. His right eye was gone from when I struck him with my dagger, yet he still stared at me with unflinching determination and a will to fight.
There was no denying that Gilen was an alpha, but it wasn’t enough to overpower me.
“Let’s end this,” Gilen roared as he sprinted toward me, picking up the alpha’s dagger in the dirt as the distance between us disappeared with each charging footstep.
I remained utterly still as he raged in my direction, eye blazing, the dagger drawn and ready to strike me down where I stood.
My gaze rose to meet Gilen’s as my magic surged to life, raging like wildfire, ready to consume everything in its path. I was ready to claim my father’s mantle and unleash my true power.
“Stop, Gilen!” I roared, my magic exploding through each word of my command.
Instantly, he skidded to a halt. His one remaining eye flared with surprise at the force of my magic. His chest rose and fell in rapid beats, echoed by the gasps and whispers from those in attendance.
“Submit,” I said in a low tone.
The well of power thrumming from my animal broke through the surface. The magic I had kept hidden for so long, never daring to reveal.
The power of an alpha.
Chapter Thirty
Skylar Cathal
“Submit!” I roared, stepping closer. My power blazed with the magnificence of a blinding sunrise. “You will submit to me, Gilen Warrick.”
For a moment, I was afraid this wouldn’t work, and I would have to kill Gilen to complete this task. But then… his gaze dropped.His shoulder slacked, and his animal’s magic began to dissipate.
