Page 114 of Prince of Darkness and Deceit

I scream and throw up my arms. Not fast enough.

It slams into me, and we crash to the ground. My elbow cracks against the floorboards. Firelight dances madly across its distorted face. The beast snarls, hot breath flooding my cheek. It weighs next to nothing, as if it's not made of solid flesh, but it’s strong.

I twist beneath the beast, kneeing hard—desperate. It flinches. Just enough.

I shove with everything I have and roll free. The floor scrapes my palms as I scramble to my feet.

The beast comes again, crawling on all fours like an animal, limbs bent all wrong. I grab the play stick from the floor and swing.

The wood smashes into the beast’s shoulder, splinters flying. It stares at the makeshift weapon, then slides its attention back to me.

Gods, help me…

Flames lick across the ceiling now, the wood snapping and hissing. Smoke churns in waves. The home groans, timbers cracking like bones under strain. It’s going to come down any second.

I cough and retreat to the window. The beast slinks closer.

“Stay back,” I hiss.

My hand trembles as I tighten my grip on the broken stick.

The monster sneers. Then it leaps.

I swing again. Wood meets flesh with a thwack, but the monster grabs my arm. Claws dig in. I scream, try to twist free, but it drags me down.

Fire whooshes above. Sparks rain. Heat presses in on all sides.

No time.

There’s no time.

I slam my boot into the monster—once, twice—catching its gut, its chest, aiming for every vulnerable spot that Draven trained me to exploit.

A strike to the space between its lower limbs finally makes the monster howl. Its grip loosens.

I don’t hesitate. I throw myself through the opening, prepared to tuck my body and pray I stay close enough to the building to hit the awning.

But the monster grabs my ankle.

My gut hits the windowsill, knocking the wind out of me.

“ELARA!” Rian shouts in a guttural roar.

I hang from the window like a rag doll, struggling to breathe, but when the monster starts to drag me back, I fight.

I twist and kick. Violence like nothing I’ve ever felt rips through my body as I resist the pull of the beast determined to slice me to ribbons.

At last, my magic responds.

Finally.

Warmth floods my veins, trickling down to my arms and legs.

Claws scrape down my calf. A keening scream bursts from my throat.

My magic lashes out—raw, instinctive—crackling through my body like a bolt of lightning. It slams into the creature’s embedded claws. White light flashes, washing out the beast's dark flesh.

The monster releases a scream so inhuman, so fierce and full of torment, my very soul shrivels at the sound.