Page 35 of Ravenous

She might not have inherited many traits from her parents, but she possessed pride. If Arctos tested her, she would show him. She would excel and show them all! And as she did, she could also be analyzing alternatives for her future.I’ll map exits from this realm. I’ll learn the rhythm. I’ll find books about this place.“I appreciate the warning. But I will be careful, work hard, and rely on your martial wisdom. Knowledge is power.”

“Strengthis power.” His jawline hardened. “I’m heading out. You’ll find clothes in the wardrobe and food in the dining area. Dress. Eat. Meet me out front.”

When he left her, she hastened to the wardrobe, finding practical clothing. Fitted trousers, plain tunics, leather boots. Hadn’t she noticed females in court dressed as utilitarian as the men? As she pulled on clothes, she felt herself stepping into a harsher world.

Passing an armory, she let her fingers drift along the blades and nicked herself on an edge. An omen, perhaps—proof that the hazy, nebulous world of Crypt Castle had given way to something honed and unforgiving.

She stopped at a study with a desk but no books. Her dream husband would have collected words; her real husband collected weapons.

In the dining area, a platter sat heavy upon the wooden table. She raised her brows at the rashers of sausage and bacon and piled her plate high. The first bite was bland—no spices, no sauces—just fuel for a no-nonsense people. Apparently even the salt here feared excess.

Still, having realized how hideous the Berserkers found her—feeble, weak, and frail—she forced herself to take several bites. Not knowing where to take her plate, she left it on the table, then headed toward a sunlit exit.

She stepped into the bright rays, inhaling the crisp air and taking in the fluffy snow on the ground. She’d only seen illustrations of it before.

Despite the turmoil of her arrival, this new land stirred her excitement. Plumes of smoke funneled up past a rise, sheared by wind before they could mar the perfect blue of the sky. The Berserker forges, she guessed. A faint clang carried on the breeze—hammer striking anvil—steady as a heartbeat. A snow-covered peak dominated the distance. She’d bet she could see her first horizon from there!

Across the ravine, a cliff face bristled with caverns; children ran along narrow ledges like the mountain goats she’d read about. She figured Arctos’s cave must be preferred for its privacy.Nothing but the best for a shieldchief.

He awaited her, sword at his hip. He appraised her in silence, then spoke with the casual cruelty of a teacher issuing a harsh exam: “Then let’s begin.” He handed her a heavy sword—real metal, not court display—and pointed up the slope. “Run to the summit of Ravinelun Peak, keeping your weapon above your head the entire way.”

The task hung between them, confusing in its simplicity. “That’s it? I’m an immortal with the strength of one. I could hold a sword above my head for days.” Some dark impulse made her add, “In fact, apparently I’m the only immortal between the two of us.”

“Like me, you can’t regenerate yet, which you should remember today.” Resting a hand on his sword, he said, “Do you think yourself stronger and faster than me?”

She gave a wary nod. “You’re nearly as weak as a mortal until you hit a Berserkerage, which takes precious seconds. I could fell you before then.” Plus a Berserkerage only lasted so long, and exhaustion followed.

“You’re not the only one with a unique talent. I can hit mine instantaneously. So Iurgeyou to strike me. If you put up a courageous enough fight before I collect your head, thenIwill be the only immortal between us.”

She swallowed thickly, wondering why she’d provoked him. “Um, I’ll pass.”

“Then why aren’t you running? Let’s see how much yourknowledge is powerhelps you today.”

Proving herself to him might equal preserving her life. Nadje had once told her that survival was everything.

I think I finally believe her.

“Why—aren’t—you—running?” he snapped.

She set the sword above her head and ran. Each step up the mountain was a promise and a prayer: to survive, to learn, and to safeguard whatever life the bear queen had thrust upon her.

Chapter 15Arctos

The vampire vomited three times before midday.

“Hopeless,” Arctos declared on her next retch. “You’re even worse than I imagined.” She belonged to the predator class of immortals—strong enough to lift a horse—but she had no endurance. After her first few times running up and down the mountain trail, she’d begun stumbling, gasping at the thin air.

Earlier, when she’d boldly stepped out into the sun—thesun!—her new clothes and her clear eyes had almost made him think of her as a small, fragile Berserker. Which infuriated him.

She was a drawn bow with an arrow pointed at the clan. From what he understood about vampires, they could no more control their fangache than a young Berserker could control their first rage.

Once her bloodlust hit, she would be a danger to everyone here.

He’d taken out his added edge on her. Run after run, he’d sent her to the peak and back, barking the same command whenever she slowed: “Why aren’t you running?”

Now, sweat matted her hair to her face, strands glued to the vomit streaking her cheek. Her earlier humiliation had faded as she’d grown too dazed for shame.

“Are you about to lose even more precious food on the trail?” he asked coldly.