Gilded Serpent Danielle Jensen (i can read with my eyes shut .TXT) 📖

Felt their hot breath on her neck.

She slammed against the door of the shack, jerking up the latch, the door swinging open.

Marcus shoved her inside, sending her tumbling over whatever was hidden in the darkness.

Twisting on her hands and knees, she watched him lean against the door right as the front-runner lunged.

It hit the door, driving it inward, Marcus scrambling to hold it in place.

Teriana screamed as snapping teeth appeared in the gap, the animal’s fur stained with the dead shifter’s blood.

Marcus smashed his fist against the wolf’s nose, and it recoiled with a whine. The door slammed shut. “Get the beam!”

Leaping to her feet, she fumbled in the dim light for the heavy plank. Heaving it up, she wedged it in the slot next to the hinge, but before she could get the other side in place, the wolf hit the door again, opening it a crack.

Teriana’s eyes locked with the wolf’s, and it snarled, shoving its muzzle in the gap, teeth snapping.

She recoiled as the door inched open enough for it to fit its whole head, and the beam fell against Marcus’s shoulder. The wolf was enormous, its lips pulled back to reveal fangs, green eyes fixed on her.

“Hit it!” Marcus shouted. “If it gets in, we’re dead!”

Fight.

Balling her fist, Teriana swung hard, catching the animal straight in the nose, her hand scraping along its teeth. It yelped, but didn’t draw back.

Marcus’s feet slid in the dirt, the door inching open, the shack shuddering as the pack attacked from all sides.

“Kill it!”

She’d lost her knife, but beneath the animal’s legs was Marcus’s gladius.

Taking a deep breath, Teriana lunged downwards, reaching for the hilt.

The wolf moved with her, only Marcus’s weight against the door keeping it from biting the back of her neck. Its paw struck her, clawing along her arm, but then her numb fingers caught hold of the weapon.

Falling backward, she tightened her grip and then slammed the tip of the blade into the animal’s chest.

It squealed and scrambled back, taking the gladius with it, and the door slammed shut. Marcus heaved the beam into place. “There’s another one. Somewhere. Here.” Lifting the beam, he fit it into the brackets, then fell to his knees next to her.

Blood ran warm down her frozen skin where the wolf had clawed her, and she flinched as the animals continued to attack the shack, the wood shuddering with each blow. “Can they get in?”

“No,” he said but didn’t sound convinced. “They’re built for this. But we’re going to freeze to death if we don’t get a fire started.”

He was right.

With her adrenaline fading, the cold was sinking into her bones, the pain worse than the injury to her arm. And Marcus was wearing a fraction of the clothing she was, his arms and legs bare, feet exposed to the deadly chill.

He moved away from her, fumbling around in the dark. “Stove. Is. Here.” His teeth were chattering loud enough for her to hear over the wolves. Hers were, too. Her whole body quivered violently, and she shoved her hands into her armpits in a desperate attempt to warm them.

Steel struck against flint, sparks flying.

“Come. On!”

More sparks flew, landing on the kindling in the stove, but it didn’t take.

“Light, damn you!”

He struck the flint again, but the knife knocked it from his hands. “Piece of shit!” he screamed at it.

Teriana dropped to her knees next to him, jerking the blade from his hand and fumbling in the dark until she found the flint. She smashed the two together over and over, sparks flying.

One landed on the dry bit of grass, and a flame took.

“Thank the gods,” she whispered, though the Six wouldn’t have anything to do with it. Not in this place. And even if they could help, she doubted they were of a mind to do her any favors.

Blowing gently on the flame with shaky breath, she coaxed the fire to life, holding her hands up to the faint heat.

She was so cold. Colder than she’d ever been in her life. Marcus was on the ground next to her, curled in on himself, eyes shut. He wasn’t shivering anymore, but his arm was ice cold when she touched him, and her heart skittered in her chest. He’d die if she didn’t get him warm.

Placing slivers of wood over the burning grass, she scanned the small space, eyes lighting on a shelf holding a stack of blankets. Scrambling to her feet, she pulled them down, dust flying everywhere as she tucked two around him and the last over her own shoulders.

“Hang on,” she whispered, feeding more wood to the flame until the fire was roaring. Climbing under the blankets, she curled around his body as tears trickled down her cheeks.

He started to shake again, teeth clattering, but it was only when he muttered, “Open the flue,” that her chest relaxed and she sat up, tucking the blankets around him. She used a stick to open the flue, the smoke rising up the chimney pipe rather than continuing to cloud the shack.

He needed something warm to drink, but while the shelves were stocked with various supplies, including a kettle and two cups, water was not one of them. What she needed was snow to melt, but that meant going outside.

The wolves had either given up or been driven back by the fire, but over the crackle of burning wood, she could hear the faint whining of the animal she’d injured. Except there wasn’t a chance of her opening that door until sunrise. Then her eyes latched on what appeared to be a tiny door at the base of one of the walls, less than six inches square. Dropping to her hands and knees, she unlatched it, revealing snow had banked against the wall of the shack.

“Gods-damned Cel,” she muttered. “You think of everything.”

She filled the kettle with snow and hung it next to the fire to melt, eyes going to Marcus as he stirred, slowly pushing himself upright.

She shook her head as