Black Heart

Chapter 1

The fight with the otkazat'sya tracker had left him winded and in pain. And it wasn't over yet.

Thick, black rivulets were running down his torn kefta as he bled from the bullet wound in his shoulder.

With the use of merzost on the skiff to rid himself of the knife that had torn through his chest, his concentration had worn off and with the element of surprise on his side, the tracker had shot him underneath his kefta. Mal. The boy Alina was so fond of. His Alina. His Sun Summoner who had condemned him a villain for wanting to protect all Grisha and end the war. Would she ever forgive him for wanting more? For wanting peace and power? All of this, the losses, the fights, the suffering was a means to an end. Why couldn't she see that? Only someone with great strength was able to endure that. And for the first time in centuries he thought he had found his equal. Instead, she had cost him everything.

And he was alone. Again.

After dodging more bullets flying his way, he stood up straight, his dark locks falling over his forehead, sand clinging to his kefta. He could not believe the fierce determination this mortal boy was fighting him with. He lowered his arm and in his calm, dulcet voice he said:

„I've survived for centuries. Did you really think you could kill me?"

Mal looked him in the eye defiantly, the gun still raised and trained on him.

„I don't have to kill you, Darkling. Your past will do it for me." With the gun, Mal pointed at something behind him. But before he could realize what was coming for him, it was too late.

He felt the forceful swoosh of mighty wings and a sharp sensation as the Volcra drove its claws through his flesh when its full weight tackled him and pinned him to the ground.

The impact left him breathless and he had to focus on not passing out from the sheer pain, as the Volcra tore its claws from his side to raise its arm for the final, lethal blow.