Page 220 of Harbinger

Something crashes through the brush toward us.

He turns just as a blur of silver fur hits him in the chest like a battering ram. He goes down in a heap, two giant paws pinning him to the forest floor.

The wolf snarls, baring her fangs. Her ears are pressed back. The curved horns sweeping from her skull glint in the moonlight, and her blue eyes seem to glow like the man’s vestiges.

Above her, a black shape circles the starry sky.

Stefan wriggles, working a hand free.

“Watch out!” I yell to the beast as he slaps his palm against the wolf’s flank. His fingers pale as he pours that cold through her. The wolf shudders, wavers for a beat that sends me scrambling to my knees, searching for my sword. But she doesn’t let go.

Stefan hits her again. She whines, rearing back slightly. He kicks her off and rolls clear, then rises, panting.

He stalks toward his own fallen sword. I’m still fishing for mine. My fingers close on the hilt as the wolf lunges again. She’s slower now, listing to one side, but she throws her body between us.

Something small and silver streaks toward her.

It’s a pup, all paws and ears and horn nubs barely bigger than my thumb. He barrels out from the trees after his mother, yipping. Following her into the fight like it’s his calling, too.

My heart crashes in my chest as the pup bounds in front of me.

Protecting me.

And the mother turns.

Puts herself between us and our attacker.

A second. Only a second.

Stefan’s sword slices through her side.

A haunting yowl roars out of her. Her giant body arches and crumples to the ground in a heap.

My scream fills the clearing.

And inside me, something loosens.

The pup scrambles toward her immediately, whimpering as he noses her side. He doesn’t understand. He prods again for her to get up.

A sob lodges in my throat and refuses to move. I’ve spent months ignoring the cracks splintering me. Every loss. Every betrayal. Every terrible truth I’ve tried to dismiss. Every time, I’ve shoved the pieces back into place and refortified my defenses, because the alternative meant admitting what the Stars marked me to become.

But watching the pup nudge his mother’s broken body, I suddenly see the wall I’ve built for what it is.

Not protection.

A prison.

One I’ve built stone by stone, afraid of the mark on my chest. Afraid that everyone was right about what I am. Including myself.

That I bring death.

But death was already here. It was there when my father died. There when Kieren took his last breath. And death was there every time someone decided another life was worth less than theirs. I didn’t bring any of it. I just keep finding it.

The fear I built my defenses on crumbles, and the wall starts to come down.

The pup lets out a tiny, angry growl … and then bounds to where I’m lying on the ground. He continues to snarl at Stefan. Like he already senses it’s his duty to protect me now.

The final stone gives way, my chest cracking open like the floor on the night of my Kindling. Darkness rises inside me in answer. Not foreign. Not frightening. Familiar. And for the first time, I don’t fight it.