This is it—I know it is. I can feel it in my bones, can feel it in every part of me. This is my shot to win, and if I don’t take it now, then it’s probably never going to come around again.
Which means I’m not giving up this ball, no matter how much it hurts. No matter how much I have to sacrifice to hold on to it.
And I run.
When I’m about ten yards from the goal line, I glance behind me—not the least bit surprised to see six pissed-off paranormals barreling down the field after me. Lucky me, it looks like the birdies have finally stopped circling Delphina’s head because she is back in the game as well.
Which means, winning this thing just got much, much harder.
I’m so close.
But so is Cole.
I need to shift back into a gargoyle so the sadistic fuck doesn’t kill me with his sharp teeth or claws. But what if my wing is so damaged, the pain causes me to falter? Even a second’s delay is all Cole needs to have me in his powerful grasp.
I’d read in one book that shifting can cause some shifters to heal or partially heal as the magic transforms their body, not physiology. So there’s a chance, a very, very small chance, that shifting could actually give me an advantage against Cole, too—I could get my flight back.
And so I decide to risk it. I shift.
I almost pass out with relief as I realize my wing has healed itself, and I launch into the air. It’s not the best liftoff, as the comet is now so painful, tears are leaking down the sides of my stone face. But I’m only five yards from the finish line and flying.
119
Gargoyle Girls Do
It with Grace
I barely make it a few feet before I feel something score my back, and the pain is excruciating.
Sharp talons wrap all the way around my arm, then sling me toward the ground with such force that it’s impossible for me to right myself.
The ground rises up to meet me as my stone body slams into the earth, the comet trapped beneath one of my arms. My head is turned toward my goal, and I almost weep when I realize I’m only a few yards away. So close.
Even if I could move, which I most definitely can’t, Violet sends vines from the ground to wrap around my arms and legs, pressing me farther into the earth—and the comet that’s now vibrating so fast and hot, it’s a constant mind-numbing pain.
I can vaguely hear the stadium erupt in noise, but I have no idea if they want to call a halt to the Trial or see me punished by death for daring to question the sanctity of their beloved Circle.
Simone snarls at me, goes to try to pry the ball from under my body, but Cole just laughs. “Don’t worry about taking it,” he tells her as he nods to the clock at the side of the field. “She’s going on forty-five seconds now. She’ll forfeit when it kills her.”
He turns to me, the malevolent glint in his eyes growing more evil with every second that passes. “It has to be excruciating, right, Grace? Why don’t you just let the ball go? Everything will be easier if you just give up.”
“Fuck you,” I tell him. “I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction.”
He grins. “I was hoping you’d say that.” And then he punches me full in the face.
The rest of them take the punch to mean it’s open season, and they leap on me. Quinn—now in human form—grabs on to my free arm and starts to yank it back, back, back until it feels like it’s going to snap right off.
Delphina slams her tail into my face, and blood gushes down the back of my throat, choking me. I didn’t even know I could bleed in gargoyle form, so thanks for that lesson.
Cam kicks me in the side and yells, “Payback’s a bitch.”
And Cole, Cole walks over to one of the straight, heavy rods the game uses as goalposts and uses his wolf strength to yank it right out of the ground.
I try to find a way to protect myself from a blow that can actually shatter me. I think about changing back to human form, but if I do that, a hit from Cole wielding that goalpost will kill human me.
I’m trapped, blows raining down on me, and I try to find the memory of my mother’s smile, try to find Hudson’s power, but I can’t. I can’t focus on anything except the next punishing blow to my body, the ball ripping me apart atom by atom now.
I can feel my eyesight grow dim, and I know I’m going to die.
And this time no one can save me, not even myself.
And still I don’t regret coming to Katmere. I could never regret anything that brought Jaxon into my life. And Hudson. And Macy and Flint and Eden and Mekhi and Gwen and Uncle Finn and even poor, poor Xavier. My friends. My family.