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Cursed is the Thief Sneak Peek

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Chapter 1

Worst. Pep talk. Ever

Ziara

We shouldn’t be here.

Trepidation rippled down my spine, and goosebumps erupted across my skin as hints of frost and savagery wafted through the air. Something dangerous prowled these woods, a predator the likes of which I’d never smelled.

I was in so far over my head that it was hard to breathe.

Hands hovering over my dagger hilts, I scanned the dense green foliage, prepared to bolt at the first sign of trouble. This was further than I’d ever been from the den, and the need to return to the safety of home clawed at my insides. My hackles stood straight up, my body strung tighter than a bow as the feral instincts that had kept me alive for twenty years went on high alert.

Scarred, beefy hands gripped my shoulders, and I almost jumped out of my skin. My accomplice’s scent hit me as he gave me a stern shake and spun me around to face him.

“Look at me,” Rust said. His official title was sergeant at arms of the Evergreen Pack, but unofficially, he was my mentor and had been my primary trainer for as long as I could remember. His irises glowed with flecks of gold as the wolf inside him held my gaze. “It’s been my honor to train you over the years.”

My heart pounded and sweat slid down my back despite the chill of the midnight air. “Why does it sound like you’re saying goodbye?”

“Shut up, pup. Let me speak. Keeping you alive has proven to be relatively easy thanks to your instincts and smarts. You can do this, Ziara.” His hard gaze gripped my soul. “You have to.”

I nodded. “Yessir.”

Concern dug deep grooves into his forehead as he triple-checked the small action camera and headlamp affixed to my baseball cap. Ensured they were secure, he examined the two-way radio piece jammed into my ear canal. “I got your eyes and ears. If shit goes sideways, I’ll talk you through it.”

“Of course you will.”

My voice held more conviction than I felt, which was unfair considering Rust’s considerable experience. He was somewhere around two centuries old and had seen some shit. He’d survived it, too. Other than my father, he was the best wolf to have at my back.

Or in my comms, since he wouldn’t be breaching the sinister eight-foot-tall hedge with me.

Yes, even the shrubbery reeked of menace, mocking me with its lethality. It seemed sentient somehow. As if it wanted to reach out and grab me. That would have seemed crazy only hours ago, but the sketchy wildlife and flora on the drive down here had made it clear we weren’t in pack territory anymore.

Fighting my instincts to flee, I crept closer, enthralled by the glimpses of shimmer I kept catching in the air. “What’s that?” I asked.

He followed my gaze and frowned. “That’s the ward. But don’t worry. The amulet’ll get you through.”

I checked for the pendant Sereana had secured around my neck, promising that it and my blood would break any barrier. Granted, she wasn’t known for her honesty. Or her humanity, for that matter. But as my aunt, and my father’s ally, I had to trust she wouldn’t send me to my death.

Silly me, I’d pictured the ward to be some kind of stone structure, not an iridescent bubble of magic that threatened to fry me if Sereana turned out to be wrong.

Rust sniffed me and wrinkled his nose. “Give yourself another once-over with that spray.”

Unhooking the bottle dangling from my backpack, I doused myself again in the witch’s prized potion, neutralizing my scent and becoming practically undetectable.

Rust nodded. “Better. And likely unnecessary until you reach the castle. Gargoyles can’t smell for shit.”

“Excuse me?” My brain stuttered, and I knuckled my ears, as if that would help when there was nothing wrong with my hearing. “Did you say gargoyles?”

“Yeah. The sentries. Can’t you smell ’em?”

“Is that the…”—I sniffed and shuddered, instincts screaming at me to turn tail and run—“icy predator I smell?”

Fear sharpened his scent. “No.”

My pulse danced a two-step. “So, what’s that then?”

“I don’t know for sure.” His pinched expression gave him away. He might not be certain, but he had a hunch he didn’t want to share, one that worried him.

My pulse skipped, and I almost pressed him for details, but what was the point? I lacked the tools and training necessary to deal with the creatures he had confirmed. Nothing good could come from learning about something more terrifying.

“Fine. How do you expect me to fight gargoyles? I’ve got my daggers, a pistol, and a mini crossbow, none of which pierce stone.”

“You don’t know shit about the world, kid.” Rust huffed and shook his head. “You can’t fight gargoyles. If they know you’re there, you’re likely already dead. But don’t worry. You’re sneaky enough not to get caught.” He gave me a wink that only twisted my insides into a bigger knot. “Come on now. Time’s a-wastin’, and you got an artifact to lift.”

Worst. Pep talk. Ever.

Before I could tell him as much, he slapped a pair of long-handled pruning shears into my palm and shoved me toward the hedge. I stood about five and a half feet tall, but the thing towered over me. It rippled as I approached, and was that a growl?

I swallowed. “You want me to just… cut it? You sure we shouldn’t start with an exorcism?”

Rust snorted. “The shears are enchanted. The witch promised they’d work. Just try not to let your skin touch anything green.”

“Really comforting, Rust.”

“Not your nursemaid.” With that established, he folded his legs and sat on the damp ground, opening his laptop.

Casting a final lingering look at the relative peace of the forest behind me, I rolled up my sleeves and got to work, narrowly avoiding the jagged thorns and toxic leaves as I pruned. Branches twisted and shuddered before succumbing to the snip of the shears, dropping to the ground and shriveling into dust as the remaining limbs bled sap that smelled poisonous. My confidence in my aunt’s magic bolstered slightly, and I pressed on, careful not to touch the nearly invisible barrier as I cleared the malicious greenery away from it. Once I’d hacked myself a doorway big enough to squeeze through, I flung the shears away, to land blade first, into the ground inches from Rust’s foot.

He flipped me off.

I smirked, the smile sliding from my features as I turned back to the arch I’d created.

Witch blood, wolf shifter reflexes and healing, and fifteen years of training had gotten me to this point. Time to do my duty.

Amulet in hand, I muttered, “Please let this work,” and with one last shaky breath, I slid through the opening before my overactive imagination and common sense could stop me.

Magic hit me like a kick to the solar plexus, knocking the breath from my lungs. Something inside me stirred. My wolf? The beast been inactive for years, but now she was panicking. She fought against her bindings as burned ozone singed my nostrils and searing, hot pain lanced my flesh. Pressure built inside me until I thought I would explode. My vision blurred and darkened, and the sounds of the forest melted away until my pounding heart was all I could hear.

The scent of copper flooded my sinuses as I fought to lift the amulet closer to my lips. Swallowing past the pressure squeezing my throat closed, I battled for each word, whispering, “By order of Ieshim, allow me to enter.”

The amulet glowed, and the pressure vanished, restoring my senses and leaving me gasping for breath. I stumbled out of the hedge, staggering to a halt and taking a beat to reassure myself I was still alive and not a pile of ash on the forest floor. Bile tickled the back of my throat, but I swallowed it back and glanced around. The moon had slipped behind a cloud, creating sinister shapes in the unfamiliar darkness.

The oozing wall of deadly shrubbery was behind me. I’d successfully leaped the first hurdle.

Rust appeared on the other side of the opening, laptop in hand, and even in the dark I could see his anxiety. “Ziara?”

“I’m good.” I held up a finger, panting.

He hesitated and then nodded, squaring his shoulders. “Don’t forget to watch the skies.”

“Why?” A horrifying revelation struck me. “Wait. Can gargoyles fly?”

“Course they can.”

Flying stone-skinned sentries.

No sweat.

And an unknown icy predator that I was really trying not to think about.

Piece of cake.

My face must have done something concerning because Rust stepped forward, free arm extended like he planned to reach through the magical shield and yank me back.

I waved off his concern, though I wasn’t okay. Not by any definition of the word. No need to frighten the old wolf, though. My knee-buckling terror didn’t change what I had to do, so I might as well grit my teeth and get this insanity over with.

Rust balled up his outstretched hand and brought it back to his face, thumping his earpiece. “Say something.”

“Something.”

He blinked.

“Something,” I repeated.

“Goddammit. This piece of shit’s not workin’.” He peered at his laptop and swore, scowling as if he was seconds from throwing it. “Lost my fuckin’ eyes, too. The tech’s offline.”

The foul stench of singed ether had faded but lingered. “The magic is pretty strong in here.”

He nodded. “That’ll do it.”

I plucked the useless earpiece out and pocketed it. “We’ll see what we can salvage later.”

A fresh wave of goosebumps sprouted across my arms. Only an hour and a half south of Seattle, I was further than I’d ever been from home and in a completely different world. One with gargoyles, magic, and a predator that even Rust feared.

My alpha had sent me here.

My pack needed this artifact.

Without the tech, I’d be going in utterly alone.

Panic nipped at my heels, but I couldn’t run home empty-handed. “What do I do?” I asked.

A light breeze caressed my cheeks.

And in the name of all that’s holy, what is that smell?

Desperation to run and hide struck me with enough force to make my heart race and my legs tremble.

“Ziara, look at me.”

My eyes snapped to my mentor’s, and his wolf demanded my undivided attention. “You know the cost of failure.”

“Yessir.”

“You can do this, so get your ass in there, but be careful. Nab the artifact and come right back. That’s an order.”

Rust had never been an alpha, but he’d been my father’s right-hand man forever, and wielded a lot of power within the pack. His voice held enough command to cut through the alarm bells ringing in my mind and remind me I was, first and foremost, a soldier in my father’s army.

And the alpha’s soldiers always followed orders.

I had to see it through. There was no other choice.

“Yessir.”

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Thursday December 4th, 2025
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