Page 56 of Veil of Blood and Bone

The taste of a blade is burned in my memory, no matter how many things I’ve done to erase it. I know exactly how it feels to wield it.

Worse—I know how it feels to slide the knife into her body and watch the light leave her eyes while the cycle begins again.

I straighten when Helene steps through the ruined door and reaches for the daggers on Forest’s belt. Together, they hustle toward the troll and attack from different sides, their movements mirroring each other without thought.

Where the hell is Wren?

The bastard was here earlier. Did he already cut and run?

“Missing the excitement,” I mutter.

His shadows are nowhere around. There is only the bite of hail speeding perpendicular and the frantic rush of Helene, searching for soft spots. Searching for weaknesses. The troll’s armor protects those places, every knot and design distinctive to its master.

It hauls a fist at Forest, who ducks out of the way in time to avoid being crushed. Despite his size, he’s as light on his feet as ever.

The winged bastard still knows how to fight.

For all his vanity, Forest remains lethal. That's reassuring.

I track their movements, eyes narrowing when he says something to her in the middle of the fucking fight. And she laughs.

Any levity dies quickly.

Helene parries and retreats, her entire attention on the troll. She shows no signs of exhaustion from yesterday. Almost like her body remembers what it’s never learned in this life.

I expect her to hold her own.

Knots of tension tighten between my shoulder blades. Then she looks at me, and the centuries collapse.

The street, the storm, the troll, everything narrows to the impossible familiarity of her eyes.

The troll roars and kicks out, hitting her in the center of the chest and sending her flying.

My body moves before thought can stop it. I lock my knees hard enough to splinter cobblestone beneath my heel.

Hunger mixes with panic when my jaw locks.

Forest reacts, cutting a path toward her only to lose ground when the creature grabs him. Thick fingers squeeze, cutting off his air supply. Helene gets up and stalls on her knees, dazed, breathless.

She doesn’t see Forest shift into his raven form, ducking through the spaces between the troll’s fingers before returning to his human form. He reaches for her and helps her to her feet, fully clothed, thank fuck. No one needs to see his cock swinging around, pendulous.

Patience. Wait.

The words are harder to listen to now. If the only constant I’ve had is suffering and my own lack of control, then this time can’t be any different from the other thousand times.

Wood slaps against metal.

I turn to the right at Audra, still inside the shop. She’s got a piece of lumber and a hammer, the nails balanced between her lips in an attempt to barricade the door to stop the wind.

My jaw clenches. “Fool.”

She should have run when she had the chance. Her skills are dormant, buried under centuries of new lives, but even if she had the opportunity to recall them⁠—

Her body’s failing is a physical reek. She lacks the capacity. There is no fixing her without the heavy hand of some god and they are untrustworthy.

We wouldn’t be in this situation if it weren’t for their meddling.

Helene swipes her dagger along the reaching hand of the troll. It growls and draws away from her, bending a knee to kick her again. Forest steps in and absorbs the blow, thrown backward several paces.