I was overwhelmed by the overflow of information drumming into my head. I tried to filter them all out, breathing harshly, and kept my ears alert for the predators that I knew would be lurking in the dark.

Most sensible people knew that Spikewood Forest was a death trap and avoided this place accordingly – as one look at the surly concoction of brambles on the way in would have sent most daring questers back the way they came. I'd felt their treacherous sting while rushing headlong into the forest, and my face still bore the scratches because I was too weak, too tired to heal them, although halfway into my quick-paced shambling, I'd spotted the red maples spaced around the plateau and knew instantly that I'd gone the right way.

Into a place where most refuge-seeking humans didn't want to risk going, not unless they had no other choice.

I pulled myself together and gritted my teeth, heaving my weight off the boulder. My shoulder was still dislocated from Balthazar's magic and despite the ache I felt, the pain wasn't too bad, although one of his icy shards of shadow had somehow worked its way into my muscles and sinew, freezing me from within. The bastard was no doubt laughing himself hoarse from wherever he was now.

Biting my lip, I reset my arm and kept moving, trying to take my mind off the residual Dragon magic that was still pumping through my body. It wouldn't kill me... I mean, if Balthazar had wanted to accomplish that easy task, he would have done so at the beginning of our fatalistic acquaintance... and not in a slow, drawn-out way where he couldn't witness my demise and gloat about it.

I also decided that if I settled down right here and now, I wouldn't get back up. Not a chance.

I'd find a cave soon and make a fire, then head toward the next town by tomorrow. Simple.

At that moment, soft, wet diamonds began to fall from the twinkling sky, beaning me in the face and I couldn't help but drop my shoulders as the miserable wind picked up, cracking and roaring in my ear. No, I didn't like this one bit.

Raindrops poured down my eyelashes as sheets of rain doubled across my vision, the Spikewood Forest trees a blurry collection of reds, yellows, and browns that I tried not to stumble into. And the further and faster I walked, the more I was accosted by slippery, cold air in all directions; I grunted and started stomping, sloshing through wettened soil, banding my arms around my waist for a fraction of warmth. The groaning weather had somehow worked its way into every hole of my patchy, raggedy, worn-down clothes.

Would I even make it home before I died of a nefarious cold? How embarrassing would that be? To not die of iron, or from a mortal wound caused by my ancient enemy, but instead... a common cold.

We weren't invulnerable to sicknesses; however, it was just extremely rare for us to be susceptible given our self-healing abilities. But if we were malnourished for long enough, then our magic would inevitably weaken, meaning we couldn't heal ourselves – and our bodies would become vulnerable to infection, just like a human body would.

So this was a very dangerous time for me. My empty belly was whinging, still not agreeing with my decision to leave the house, growling incessantly with every step I took. I tried to block out the aggravating sound, fighting against the ache in my stomach, but this emptiness inside of me was from more than just hunger, I realized.

I didn't want to think about it, so I didn't.

The sound of wildling wolves growling in the distance, coming closer and closer to my location was an unpleasant, jarring reminder that I was in hostile territory - and it pushed me to pump my legs faster into the hip-length grass, my eyes dashing across the plateau for other threats; I swallowed, knowing that my eyes weren't entirely trustworthy in this arena. I was alone in Spikewood Forest and would be entirely outnumbered if there were a pack of wildling wolves nearby.

Backing up against a thick tree near the edge of the field, I laid my hands on the ground and listened for the whispers of the land to come to me. Many whispers wove in harmony through my mind once I stopped actively blocking them and gave myself over to the echo chamber of voices, their flow of infinite commentary a swipe against my mental walls as I shut my eyes, getting lost in their thrall for a time.

Wilding wolves... Many, many... they hunger... they want blood... you cannot outrun them, Dryad...

I stood up to the sound of snarling across from me. Glowing blood-red eyes appeared on a snout of black fur, the face a strong, silvery and angular shape that slowly revealed itself from the long blades of grass, its massive body half-hidden in the shadow of a nearby tree. Behind its prone form, way back in the dark, a sea of red eyes glowed around that visible wildling wolf, peering interestedly at my shivering figure, formidable intelligence shining in their gazes.

An army of wildling wolves. Hungry, vicious and predatorial, they growled in the darkness at me as I looked everywhere for a break in the tree line – for a spot that wasn't guarded by red eyes. They'd closed in while I'd been too preoccupied, listening to the land with my magic, my eyes shut to better hone my abilities and now... now I was going to die, ripped to shreds by a pack of mutts.

I stepped back, testing their restraint. They didn't pounce - but I could tell their eyes had tracked my jittery movements with singular focus, their bodies coiling and readying from wherever they were to attack on command. It was because they awaited something from their alpha - an order, an instruction, a single announcement that would invite them into the open field. I wouldn't stand a chance, not against so many and not at half-strength.

It would do me no good to run and bait them but staying in their line of sight was just as harmful to my chances of surviving. I swallowed, debating my chances.

My claws were still out. It was a fixture that would take time to go back into my skin. All my Dryad features usually took a while to dissipate: My eyes had lost their otherworldly, green glimmer some time ago while trekking through the Spikewood Forest and my hair had lost its lustre and its eerie resemblance to the earth, shining like damp coals under the moonlight. This was the unbecoming colour I always wore around humans, a shade that resembled the night and was effectively ignored because of how common it was.

I flexed my ivory talons, feeling their strength. They were all I had on me, including my knives. Better my twin blades than nothing. Dropping my rucksack, I cracked my neck and prepared for a bloody fight that was most certainly not in my favour...

The alpha snapped its mouth and pawed the ground, while at the same time I heard his pack give warning howls for me to submit and bow down. I did the opposite, feeling in my bones that if I did, I'd be torn apart in the blink of an eye instead of earning a one-on-one fight with the alpha.

I held the stare of the alpha and crouched low. I scraped my right talons against the ground, dragging them deep into the mud, baring my teeth at him as I did. This was my chance. I wouldn't go down without a fight.

The mighty wolf glaring at me must have seen something in my unflinching stare, because it wanted me to fight back. Despite being one of the proudest creatures in existence, it didn't take insult to my offensive stance, didn't even send its hundreds of minions after me.

After licking its teeth, the gigantic creature of bristling fur leapt out of the grass, exposing his sleek, grey, muscular body. Every inch of it looked like it was made of brushed starlight, the contours radiating with luminous, silver flecks that dropped into the soil and faded into nothingness.

I only had a second to prepare as the beast dived straight for me. He'd closed the distance between us so easily, so quick and clean that he may as well have been a sliver of death, a flaming meteor across the grass bound for collision.

My eyes clocked the movement just in time and I threw myself forward, the pressure of his talons grazing my upper back as he leapt over me and landed in my previous spot. I swung around with mere seconds to spare, a steady arm raised to defend myself, ivory claws extended while he opened his ferocious maw to break my throat wide open. That's when I saw the largest canines that I'd ever seen in my life shining at me like mirrors.

Those jaws snapped at me with a deafening crunch, and I snapped back in an admittedly poor attempt to prove that I was every bit the predator he was. It still worked in my favour, I decided, because the alpha had grown increasingly furious at my show of dominance.

My pale claws were also small and when those precarious paws of his came up to swipe at me, I dove under his strong, massive arms, rolling into a position that would better suit me for stabbing him. I spun my daggers into my palm and nearly managed to plunge them into his rear, but the alpha was fast, sensing me come at him from behind and then changing position at once.

We held our grounds, our heartbeats ticking in unified symphony throughout our separate bodies as we assessed each other... and then we clashed, claws against claws in the next breath.

The wildling wolf was a machine of muscle and sheer wildness, yet I'd managed to weave around his oversized body, ever so slightly arranging myself out of his path whenever the alpha struck with mindless grit – my unmatched Dryad speed an inexhaustible resource in this heated battle of reactionary instincts.

Our battle was fought with the mind as well as the body and I had to give it to him, the alpha was sizing me up, the same way I was sizing him up. He'd overlooked me and now he was trying to figure out the best way to rip me apart.

The first few minutes were about wearing me out, testing what I was capable of, but now it was clear that the alpha was done playing with his food.

I was soon about to get eaten, and I huffed as a drop of sweat cascaded down my back. When was the last time I’d been tested like this? Not in a long time. I rubbed creases of mud from my face that had somehow gotten smudged when I'd rolled around, and I felt the rain get heavier in our surroundings, our bodies tussling in the grass as we swiped at one another.

A curtain of grass stood between us now, but I launched into it, intent on fending off a death meant for someone else. Not me. Not today.

I'd survived far too long to meet my end like this, at the teeth and claws of a wildling wolf. I had an unspoken death pact to fulfil, and it involved dying by the sword of a certain smug Warlord – if he ever managed to do it, that is – and if not by him, then I'd planned on dying by the ravages of time, bedridden in a cottage occupied by my sisters and I.

"Doralis!"

I thought I heard someone calling my name, but it must have been the wind. By the time I'd bothered to check, my neck had shifted to the side, exposing my throat to the predator in front of me.

I was a bloody fool.

I'd done a foolish thing.

That mere second of pausing had been the difference between life and death.

I’d stepped back just as the alpha wolf had locked its teeth into my clavicle, and I screamed as its full weight pushed me to the ground. My blood sprayed onto the grass but was too quickly washed away by the storm brewing over us and in that moment, my heart was like a drum, pounding in my ears, distorting my focus.

My daggers had gotten knocked into the grass somewhere. I was too shocked to recall where I'd lost them in the confusion of my tumble and instead, I shoved my claws into the massive wolf's throat, trying to lift the head off my chest.

But the wolf was stubborn, his hide a tough exterior to dig through, and with increasing pressure, he clamped those ferocious claws into my sides, raking them down my ribs. I didn't howl, didn't even scream. Fiery pain scorched through me, but I allowed it to strengthen my resolve – turning me into a creature of savage retribution.

Everywhere those talons touched, it seemed to shred and tear at my insides. I gave myself over to the Dryad magic inside my being that usually slept in a locked abyss and, as if sensing an unguarded gate, it slithered up my spine and glimpsed out through my eyes at the wildling wolf... A terrible, devouring hunger had awakened inside of me, and it was equal amounts bliss and overwhelming calamity.

Pure, unadulterated Dryad magic, that's what I'd become – my true form, when all parts of my being were unleashed, could shake mountains and split the earth. It terrified me enough that I almost never allowed this part of me to come out unless I was in dire need of it.

I hated that a wildling alpha wolf had reduced me to such a state and then more and more anger suffused my being, lit me from within.

"You have no idea... what you've done." I whispered.

Those were honest words of warning, a cruel and lovely death sentence that poured out of my lips like sweet honey.

For a second, I thought the alpha understood me and was about to let me go.

My eyes were like green torches now, cutting through the dark as power radiated out of my being. The beast and his pack felt the ominous shift in the trees, the way they stopped moving, the song of the wind changing to one of sorrow as lightning flashed across the sky. There was a prolonged beat of thunder, the sound reminiscent like dragons clashing in the sky and then, as the alpha reared his head up to bite my throat clean through, hundreds of roots sprouted out of the ground, distracting him.

I shuffled back on my hands and felt the hilt of one of my twin daggers. I gripped it and lurched forward, stabbing the wildling wolf in its left eye socket. A jarring roar exploded from its chest, but a terrible thirst for violence had crept inside me, had entwined itself with my bones, driving me into action.

Again, I stabbed it. Again, I acted with disgusting, blood-rending force, shoving that blade into the other eye, ignoring the howl of the alpha as his pack leapt into the fray, charging across the plateau.

Lost to the chill of my dark, Dryad magic, I thought, 'Destroy the wildling wolves. Leave none of them alive.'

The roots that had burst free from the ground moved with snake-like efficiency toward my foes, wrapping themselves around the beasts and tightening. I heard bones cracking all around me, necks snapping, shattering, and the echoes of painful contortions even from where I stood, leaning over the alpha, my blade at his throat.

Steeling myself against the guilt I'd feel later, I sliced the wildling alpha's throat, watching as it struggled and shuddered beneath me. It was blind and now it was dead.

All at once, like a candle had been blown out, my energy and magic were snuffed out in an instant... and I collapsed to my knees.