Regis 8

“Keep an eye out for any kind of shelter,” I called out, my own eyes scanning every shadow and wrinkle in the frozen wasteland for something that could be a cave or ravine, or even just an overhang that would get us out of the biting wind.

“I can barely see past you. Even with mana, I don’t think I could find anything unless it was standing right in front of me,” Caera said, frustration laced in her voice.

‘Maybe you guys will have to dig yourself a shelter and cuddle for—’

Strike three.

Coalescing aether around Regis’s incorporeal form inside me, I directed it to the palm of my hand and pushed outward.

To my surprise, Regis’s fiery cub form actually burst out of my hand, limbs flapping in surprise.

‘Hey! What the—’

Caera gasped and burst into action. Flinging off the bedroll and drawing her thin, curved sword, she cut swiftly downwards, cleaving Regis in two.

I watched with a raised brow as Regis’s bisected form faded away, dissolving into the windblown snow.

Caera’s sharp eyes darted around the terrain, but when she didn’t see any more threats, she smoothly stored the blade once again. Then she noticed the look on my face, and her own confident expression slipped away.

I pointed nonchalantly at the area where Regis had disappeared and said, “That thing is going to reform in a few seconds. As amusing as it was, please don’t attack him again.”

Her eyes went wide. “That was something you did?”

“That was my wolf, yes.”

“Grey, I’m—”

She was cut off as a pocket of dark ash began to spin within the light snow, condensing down until it was a perfectly round ball, then bursting into flames. Finally, Regis’s bright eyes popped open, and the dark shadow of his mouth twisted down into a comical frown.