Page 85 of The Ice Prince's Fated Mate
The second he hauled back and hurled a six-foot-long lance of ice at me, I ducked. The spear pierced the fire, shrinking rapidly, but several inches of it still embedded itself in the shoulder of the Were on the right.
The wolf shifter howled, and the fire from him and his partner vanished in shock. I leapt forward, dropping a ball of pure ice down his throat as I passed by, not slowing. The iceball exploded, attacking itself to his airway, and the shifter doubled over, unable to breathe.
I caught a wash of flame for my efforts but doused it with a burst of icy cold that flooded out from me in a circle. Then I was on the second heart dragon. The Were stood no chance. My hand shifted as I swung, and the arm he raised to block what had been a punch fell away, sliced off at the elbow by my claws.
Spinning, I raked upward with my other hand, opening him from groin to sternum, four lines shredding his skin and ripping the heart scale free from his chest as I went. It clattered to the floor nearby.
That only left the remaining ice shifter, who now understood just how badly outclassed he was, fiddling with something in his pocket.
“Whoareyou?” he hissed, as another four shifters came rushing out from the main building belatedly.
“What matters is where she is. So tell me!” I barked. “And I’ll make it quick. If not …”
I gestured at the Were bleeding to death, the wounds I’d inflicted too great as his insides became his outsides.
“There are five of us,” the ice dragon said as they spread out.
“I’ve already put down at least four of you. Do I look hurt? Tired? You should know better.”
I tossed my hood back so they could see who I was.
“The Ice Prince?” one of them gaped, his eyes wide.
And that’s when I attacked, taking advantage of their surprise. There was no more speaking. Only claw and fist and ice. Two of the newcomers went down.
Claws ripped apart my shirt, shredding my left side, though not fatally. At least one rib was broken when a fist slipped through my defenses, and each breath was painful. These were not unskilled thugs. They knew how to fight, and two of them had clearly trained to attack together. Their movements were too precise to be otherwise.
I tossed one of them bodily against the other, and we all split. I was breathing heavier now. All of us were bleeding. Snow and ice were everywhere.
For a moment, silence reigned, and light glittered. If it wasn’t for the bodies, it could have been beautiful.
“Just tell me where she is,” I said, gathering myself. It was time to end it.
“You aren’t leaving here.” It was the only survivor from the first round, still speaking.
“What a coincidence. Neither are you.”
They came on again, and I retreated back into the darkness, letting it consume me and take me back to the time I had lived in it. Lived in the cold, emptythinginside me. And I used it.
Ice cracked. Someone screamed and whirled away, fingers missing from their hand. Bone broke. I heard a sigh as the final breath left a body.
And then, with a punch to an ice statue that shattered it into giant chunks of limbs and torso, it was over.
Grunting in pain, I pulled the pair of six-inch-long ice blades from my leg and tossed them aside. The blood poured forth for a moment but then rapidly clotted. I shrugged it off. I’d been hurt worse, much worse, and recently. This was nothing compared to that.
I paused at the corpse of the apparent leader, the ice shifter that had survived round one. Curious as to what he’d been fiddling with, I reached into his pocket. The contents were frozen but not destroyed as I’m sure he’d hoped. Very carefully I removed the ice with the focus of my will.
Frowning at what was left, I shoved it in a pocket. I would deal with it later, but for now my mate needed me.
“Ella!” I roared, kicking open the door to the estate. “Ella, we’re leaving. Where are you?”
There was no response, but her scent was fresh and easy to follow. The interior door was no obstacle, coming free after I hooked the claws of one shifted hand through it and pulled.
I came up still at the sight on the other side.
“Ella.”
She was there. In a cage. Her skin pale and her eyes distant.
