The pressure around my throat tightens until the edges of my vision turn white. The creature’s grip is made of something colder than winter, colder than death, and every second it holds me steals another piece of air from my chest.
Adam does not hesitate.
His wolf lunges with a roar that splits the cavern wide open. He launches himself through air that crackles with silver sparks and lands on the creature’s arm with full force. His jaws clamp down. The crunch echoes through the roots. Shadow bursts outward like a cloud of black mist.
For a heartbeat I think he has severed the limb.
But the mist coils back together instantly, reforming the arm as if nothing touched it. Adam shakes harder, his teeth sinking through the dark substance, tearing chunks of smoke free. The creature flickers,
