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

the last of the raiders and bent to wipe his blade on the back of the man’s sand-colored clothes.

“You want us to start burning them, sir?” one of his men asked, wiping sweat from his brow.

“No,” Killian answered, glancing northeast in the direction of Mudaire before turning back to the man. “Drag the corpses to the mouth of the pass and leave them for the carrion.”

Where they’d serve as warning for what Mudamora’s weakness looked like.

 40TERIANA

Teriana rose slowly from the depths of her drugged sleep, blinking at the glowing stove a pace away from her, the smell of woodsmoke heavy in her nose.

Not a dream.

She and Marcus were on the far side of Reath, half a world from the Quincense and the Thirty-Seventh. In the middle of bloody frozen Sibern. In a stupid little shack where they were likely to either kill each other out of irritation or be eaten by giant wolves long before they starved to death.

Rolling over and hiding from her misery in sleep seemed an ideal solution, but then her eyes latched on Marcus. He stood next to the door, ear pressed against the wood, his eyes closed and knife in hand.

He was also dressed in what appeared to be clothing made from blankets, complete with a hat that was tied beneath his chin and a pair of mittens. He looked utterly ridiculous, and she would’ve burst out laughing if it wasn’t obvious to her that he had a plan.

Which meant they weren’t dead yet.

“Were you planning on saying good-bye?” Her voice was raspy from breathing in smoke all night. “Or were you hoping to sneak out while I was still asleep?”

His attention didn’t shift from whatever it was he was listening to outside. “Good, you’re finally awake. I thought I was going to have to toss you out in the snow to rouse you. It’s dawn.”

“We’re not in a legion camp, Marcus,” she snapped. “Who gives a shit if I sleep in? Who gives a shit if I sleep forever?”

“I do. There’s work to be done, and I’m not doing it all while you laze about. Now get up.”

Muttering curses under her breath, Teriana sat up. She needed to piss in the worst sort of ways, but the thought of dropping her trousers in the howling wind outside held little appeal. “Are the wolves gone?”

He grunted an affirmative. “All but the one you stabbed.”

“The dead ones don’t concern me.”

“It’s not dead.”

Marcus sounded positively gleeful, which was not only out of character, but also not a particularly fitting emotion for the revelation.

“At least, I don’t think it is.” He lifted one of the beams securing the door, setting it aside. “I haven’t heard it make a noise since the others left, but we should still be okay.”

Teriana shoveled snow from the little trap into the kettle, setting it on the stove. “Okay to do what, exactly?”

Instead of answering, Marcus lifted the other beam and cracked open the door, peering outside. “Come on. Shut the door behind you so you don’t let out the heat.”

Retrieving her blanket, Teriana wrapped it around her head like a shawl, then stepped outside, blinking against the brightness. The wind pierced through the woolen blanket, and she curved her shoulders inward, ensuring her hands were covered. Her breath made big clouds with every exhalation, and already she could feel the cold seeping through the leather soles of her boots.

Marcus was rotating, one hand shielding his eyes as he scanned the snowy landscape around them. “Keep a wary eye,” he warned. “Just because they don’t like the daylight doesn’t mean they won’t make an exception for an easy meal.”

Whether he’d intended it or not, Marcus’s words directed her eyes to the red stain marring the snow a hundred paces from where she stood. Nothing remained of the shifter other than blood, and Teriana’s stomach flipped knowing that it could’ve easily been her. Or Marcus. That it still could be them, if they weren’t careful.

Knife in hand, Marcus circled the shack to where the dead wolf lay unmoving, bloody snow churned up around its still form. It was far bigger than any wolf she’d ever seen, its thick black pelt ruffling in the wind, paws the size of her hand. Instinctively, she touched the bandages on her wrist, the claw marks aching.

The animal’s paw moved.

Both she and Marcus stiffened, and it was then she saw its flank still rose and fell; it was somehow still alive. The gladius was embedded in its chest, piercing up into its shoulder, but must have missed both heart and lungs.

Marcus took several steps closer, and the animal opened its eyes, squinting at them in the brightness. They were large, a beautiful emerald shade, and its lips pulled back in a snarl as it focused on them.

“Gods,” she muttered, moving to stand next to Marcus’s elbow. “Look at those teeth. How do you want to do this?”

“Good question.” Marcus reached for the hilt of the gladius, but the wolf moved, mouth snapping at his hand, and he stumbled backward, crashing into Teriana and nearly sending them both into the snow.

“Not like that.” Her heart hammered, the memory of this animal lunging at her in the dark all too clear in her mind. “Maybe we just wait for it to die.”

“We can’t. It could survive all day and then die in the night when we can’t do anything about it. Trying to skin an animal frozen solid is impossible, and we need its fur if there is to be a chance of us getting out of here.”

Teriana tapped her chin. “Wasn’t it you who said there was no chance of us surviving?”

The wind howled across the snowy plains, tugging at her blanket and burrowing deep into her skin. Down to her bones. Already she wanted to flee back into the shack. To stand before the stove until feeling returned to her hands.

“In a matter of days, it will be decided that I have either deserted with you or that we’ve