Twenty-Two:
“Remind me, what was it you expected me to do?”
I asked Wildriver, and he shot me a quizzical look and gave me a wolfish grin.
“You know that I wouldn’t have to die alone. That’s a bright spot in all this, no?”
He joked, and I scoffed and murmured a few choice obscenities about my loco wolf pal. Our make-shift wall of dense thorny vine and wood began to shatter. Anticipation thrummed in my veins as each staggering blow against the massive blockade strained the dense wood bindings. We were the final stop-block for something ludicrous.
“Any clue how we kill this Scarlet?”
I asked, and he shook his head and said, “Only that your blood should work against it. The one common denominator in every unkillable thing I’ve seen is your blood. I’m the only one who noticed that patte
