Chapter 85. Fear and the Furious

RONN

Probably not a good idea to smash a fist into someone’s skull… especially if it’s a fucked up winter wolven.

I try flexing the joints in my fingers, but sharp pain lances through my hand. It would take longer than usual to heal then.

The stone.

I reach inside my coat, closing my palm tightly around the warmness of the stone. I wince at the pain that follows, but it’s temporary; the next second, I feel the muscles tighten, the bones lock into place, followed by renewed strength.

I flex the fingers again, smiling lightly. “Well what do you know?” I mutter, “A healing stone.”

“You really are the white on black,” he mutters.

Instinctively, I jump, curling my fist into a ball to strike again, as he rears his head. Now that was fast, even for a wolven; considering the force of the blow he would have a concussion. Or worse.

He groans softly, raising his brows when he spots the stone in my hand. “You really do have it,” he sighs.