Page 181 of Veil of Blood and Bone

Forest jets forward and angles down. No. Not flying. Falling.

He drops out of the storm, cutting through the clouds one moment, his wings spread wide. And in the next, ice detonates around him.

Hail pummels him, sending him shooting to earth faster than a fallen star, slamming into him and folding one wing wrong. Black feathers scatter through the air, his body spinning, spiraling to the dark canopy below.

Way too fucking fast.

The raven plummets like a stone through the snowstorm.

Oh, for fuck’s sake. I knew this would happen eventually. No matter how dazzlingly he fights, bird brain has the survival instincts of wet paper.

But my stomach bottoms out, and I groan. “Ugh. No.”

I’m not about to go mushy for a six-foot-whatever tall raven shifter with a superiority complex.

“Forest!” Nicholas shouts.

I throw shadows without thinking.

They rip out of me hard enough to tear a yell loose from my throat. “I swear to every miserable god—” I start.

Nicholas skids, grabbing my elbow, our gazes tracking the black missile, the raven’s body a smudge against the horizon.

“Fuck. We’re not going to make it in time.” He takes off, the edge of his leather duster sending puffs of white upward in his wake.

“Like hell we aren’t.”

I send more shadows out in a net, whipping through the wind. Tangling with ice.

Faster than me. Faster than either one of us. This world, the strain of it… sweat drops, beading through with blood, my teeth grinding.

“Do you have him!” Nicholas yells back to me.

The shadows take everything I give them and demand more, clawing on their way out.

Like always.

My knees hit and bury grooves in the snow.

Tendrils wrap around the raven’s body with inches to spare before he collides with the ground. But Forest is cradled within them, and for some reason, the rescue mission has taken a chunk out of my reserves.

I cough, sputtering.

He isn’t shaking himself free. He shudders against the shadows, hunching into a tight ball.

That’s gratitude for you.

Screams come again from within the car and this time, the sound distorts, twisting, obscured by weather.

A shuddering breath wracks through me as I draw my shadows back, Forest in tow.

“If you’re not going to help, bird brain, then at least have the sense to stay out of my god's damned way.” I lurch to my feet.

The windshield is shattered now, and through the cracks, movement flashes. Helene kicks up wildly against the rear door, blood streaking down one side of her face from a cut on her forehead.

Frost creeps across steel and glass to sear her hand whenever she touches the handle.

The jötun chuckles, an awful, grinding sound, like ancient ice splitting.