Won't Last Long

Andrev’s eyes went wide, the breath driven from his lungs even as the searing pain buried itself between his shoulder blades. He staggered forward, landed on his knees. He twisted to look over his shoulder, eyes wide, and saw Kir, who looked shocked and triumphant, clutching a gleaming golden blade.

Gold.

Andrev willed his body to shift shape, to shake off the wound, but it wouldn’t respond. He could feel his power constricting, tightening in his chest, unable to obey his call.

“You were right,” Kir said to the blonde woman.

“I know,” she said. “But it won’t last long.”