My nails lengthened.
Gold flashed under my skin.
I slashed through the vine at my ankle and came up snarling.
Cerberus roared.
Pain and panic rolled from his soul into mine.
I f*****g hated this.
I f*****g loved him.
A wall of vines dropped on him, as if the garden hated him for loving me.
Thousands of them.
They came from everywhere. From the beds. From cracks in the stone. From the frozen soil. Thick and slick and bristling with black thorns.
They wrapped around his legs first.
Then his shoulders.
His ribs.
His throat.
He fought like something born for war.
Jaws snapping.
Claws tearing.
Body twisting with enough force to crack the stone beneath him.
The vines did not break fast enough.
No.
Thorns bit into him.
Blood welled through his fur.
His pain hit me so hard my
