But something was wrong.
She wasn’t letting go; she also wasn’t sawing into its flesh with her teeth. “Lora!” I yelled, my mouth full of wooly fur and blood. “Can you fight?!”
Lora yipped, but she could barely move. The Wenlow underneath us yanked up its arm, sending the wolf high into the air and then shaking her off. Holding onto it should’ve been easy for her, but the paralysis had taken hold, and she soared through the air before slamming hard into the ground. I let go of the Wenlow’s arm and went for its neck while it was still downed, crushing its windpipe under my jaws and splitting both of its jugulars open.
This time, I didn’t wait until it was dead to let go. I backed away before it could attack me, getting myself out of reach of its claws as it struggled to pick itself up. But it was bleeding heavily, and I’d torn through the tendons in its wrist. When the creature rested its weight on that hand, it fell back into the snow, and this time it didn’t get back up.
Praxis growled nearby. I saw he was upright, but moving slowly. “Get Lora,” I yelled, “Get her back to the others!”
This time, he didn’t argue. He staggered over to the smaller wolf, shifted into his fae form, and picked her up. With Lora thrown over his shoulder, he gave me a hard look, then he turned around again and headed for the ritual circle, slowly, dragging his feet.
I was alone, surrounded by flashing lightning and a sense of utter dread, and danger on all sides. Shadows began to loom over me, coming from somewhere behind me. I turned quickly on the spot, my paws digging into the ground. There, in the trees, were four Wenlow tightly grouped together, their massive, hulking bodies lit momentarily by the steady pulsing of lightning tearing through the sky above them.
And they were all staring at me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
The first of the four beasts roared, then charged. I stiffened up, figuring out my angle of attack—trying to determine my options—but there were too many of them. How was I supposed to kill four of them without help? And even if I killed them, weren’t there many more behind them, lurking in the woods?
The tattoo on the back of my paw lit up, sending ripples of energy surging throughout my body. I thought of my mother as the Wenlow bore down on me; I thought of the moment on the cliff with Toross, and how I’d channeled my magic into a devastating lightning attack. I could feel it now, that charge of power, ready to be released.
Stiffening my back, I aimed my snout at the rampaging Wenlow, opened my mouth, and directed a blast of lighting that tore through the Wenlow like it was made of paper. The beam of light struck the creature in the chest. The light then ripped out of it in all directions, causing the beast to explode like it had just swallowed a grenade.
I stared at the smoldering corpse as what was left of it fell to the ground. Specks of warm, blue blood splattered against my face, a foot went flying into the trees, and an arm landed somewhere nearby with a thud.
“Holy shit…” I said, breathless, my body still vibrating, my mouth tingling.
The other three Wenlow looked confused for a moment, as if they suddenly had a reason to doubt whether to attack me. I backed up a step, trying to call on the magic I had just unleashed, but I couldn’t coax it out of me. Instincts told me my battery had run dry, and that I needed to wait for it to recharge, but I had no idea how long that would take.
Having finally decided, the other Wenlow came charging through the trees, all three of them at once. I was about to pick one to attack, when a series of arrows whizzed past my head and struck one of the creatures in the arm, chest, neck, and head. The monster stumbled, tripped over a fallen tree, and collapsed with a massive crash.
Behind me, at the edge of the tree-line, stood Mira with her recurve bow, resplendent, magnificent; like a warrior. “Don’t be an idiot!” she yelled, “Even you can’t take them all on yourself!”
“There’s only two of them now!”
“Look harder.”
I hopped toward her a few steps before turning around again. She was right, the woods were full of Wenlow now, seemingly arriving on the backs of lightning strikes that were coming down with fury like I’d never seen before. The woods were strobing, alternating between light and dark in rapid, violent flashes.
“Dammit,” I growled, then I turned and headed toward Mira at the edge of the trees. “Fall back to the ritual circle,” I yelled, “They’re coming!”
Unlike the moon children, Mira didn’t need me to tell her something twice. She turned around and started sprinting back toward the ritual circle, which was wreathed in so much light I couldn’t even see the Prince inside of it. I had no idea whether the exorcism was working or not, whether Cillian was standing, or had fallen to his knees; whether alive or dead.
I only had Ashera’s word that she would drive the spirit out of him, but she seemed ready enough to kill him if she had to. I couldn’t think about that. I was coming up on Praxis, who still hadn’t reached the clearing. It didn’t look like he was moving fast enough to make it, either.
“Put her on my back,” I said to him.
“No,” he growled, “I can do it.”
“You’ll be faster in your wolf form!”
“Get away.” He tried to knock me aside with his foot, but lost his balance and fell to his knees, dropping Lora to the ground. She was fully paralyzed, her eyes wide open, her limbs unmoving.
“Get up, Praxis,” I growled at him. “We don’t have time for this.”
“You… you brought them here,” he panted. “Our blood is on your hands.”
“Don’t you see I’m trying to help you? Why do you have to be so fucking stubborn?!”
“I would rather die a warrior’s death than let you help me.”
“Then let me help you,” came Toross’ voice.
He swooped in quickly, picking Praxis up and hoisting him to his feet. The Wenlow were still coming, the large, white monsters trundling through the woods, accompanied by that incessant lightning and rolling thunder. We didn’t have much time for this, but with Praxis back on his feet, we had a chance to make it back to the clearing.
I shifted out of my wolf form, rushed over to Lora, and picked her up in my arms. She was heavy, but I was also supernaturally empowered, so I was able to grab her and start moving toward the clearing, keeping pace with my uncle and with Praxis.
Ahead of us I saw Mira standing next to Melina, Gullie, and Jaleem, who was standing on all four of his feet and looked ready to fight. The paralysis’ hold on him had worn off quickly. If we could get Lora and Praxis away from the Wenlow, then maybe they’d be able to get back in the fight before more of those monsters arrived.
All we had on our side was speed. They had the numbers; an endless supply, it felt like. A horde of lost souls, former humans turned cannibals, of hungry monsters capable of decimating the fae if they got close enough to them. I had seen what one of these creatures had been able to do to the castle fae.
I had now also seen what they could do to the moon children, given enough time.
We needed to win.
“How are you holding up?” Gullie asked as soon as I was close enough to them.
I laid Lora on the floor and looked up. “My mouth is full of blue blood and my muscles are sore,” I said, “But I’m okay.”
“Yeah, that blood dripping down your face makes you look absolutely terrifying,” Mel said, “Kind of suits you.”
I wiped the blood off my lips with the back of my hand. “It’s disgusting.” Turning my head around my shoulder, I noticed just how close the Wenlow were. We had beaten them here, but not by much.
I stood upright again. “They aren’t stopping,” I said.
“Did you expect them to?” Mira asked.
Looking up, the Veridian was all around us now. The sky churned, black and grey, and deep red. Lightning grumbled, the wind howled and raced, but the circle of light remained, a beacon in the dark, shining brightly against the underside of those horrible clouds.
&nb
sp; “How long do you think she has to go?” I asked.
“It’s hard to tell,” Toross said. “It could be minutes, but it could be hours.”
“We need to buy her more time.”
“That means we’re up,” Mel said, stepping toward the trees with Gullie on her shoulder.
“Hey, wait, what are you doing?!” I called out.
Mel angled her head around her shoulder. “You didn’t think we wouldn’t have a part to play in this, did you?” she asked, grinning.
I frowned. “Just… don’t get hurt.”
Mel turned to face the woods. “Ready, Gull?”
“I’m ready,” I heard Gullie say.
I had no idea exactly what they had planned, but the Wenlow were charging through the woods at an alarming rate. In less than a minute, I thought, they would be on us. I could already feel my muscles tensing, my chest tightening. My heart couldn’t pound any harder than it already was, otherwise I wasn’t sure I’d be able to stay on my feet.
Ahead of me, Mel stretched her hands toward the trees. I felt a sudden buildup of power, I heard the snow crunch around her feet as an invisible force flattened it to the ground. Gullie floated out of Mel’s hair and took up a position between her hands, and then a rainbow of prismatic light erupted out in front of them.
The light shot toward the trees, blooming in all directions as soon as it reached the darkness and showering the surrounding woods with lights of all colors. It was a wall of shifting light, changing from red, to green, to purple, to yellow, and it seemed to stretch all the way around the clearing, encircling us and the smaller ritual circle at the center.
The Wenlow were momentarily stopped, startled by the sudden brightness.
“What… what the hell?” I asked.
“Neat trick, huh?” Gullie asked.
“Is this you?”
“Lora helped us figure out how to combine our magic,” Mel said, though her voice was shaking from the concentration she was exerting. “Pixies and moon children have been doing this for centuries. The castle fae are really missing out.”
One of the creatures approached the barrier and raked its claws along the shield of light, which shimmered as it was touched, but didn’t break. The Wenlow hurled its fists against the shield, and though it wobbled, it didn’t crack or shatter. It held firm and strong, and it kept the Wenlow on the other side of it.
“How long can you hold that?” Mira asked.
“I don’t know,” Mel called out, “It’s my first magic shield.”
I turned and tried peering into the brilliant circle surrounding the Prince. I could just about see his shadow as the light shifted. It didn’t look like he was on his feet, but on his knees, with his hands wrapped around his head. I thought he was screaming, but I couldn’t hear him, and I could barely see him.
Ashera hadn’t once stopped speaking. All this time she had spent reciting the ritual of exorcism, trying to cast the spirit out with her words and the magic of the will-o-the-wisps, but the Veridian didn’t seem like it was pulling away, and as more Wenlow approached Melina’s shield and bashing it with their fists, I knew she wouldn’t be able to hold it for long.
I rushed over to the three moon children, who looked like they were starting to get back up on their feet. “Can you fight?” I asked.
Praxis glared at me, his jaw clenching. “We will fight until we’re dead for our Alpha,” he growled.
“Your Alpha is busy, and your Beta and I just saved your lives. If you want to help Ashera, you’ll listen to me. Is that understood?”
“I won’t—”
“—Praxis, enough,” Lora cut in. She stepped in front of him and looked at me. “What would you have us do, white wolf?”
I nodded at her. “Get in front of Melina. Don’t let the Wenlow get anywhere near her or Mira—the paralysis will take them far quicker than it will take you. Then when the Wenlow come, coordinate your attacks. Take them down one at a time. Wait for—”
—the magic circle behind me exploded, the shockwave sending all of us hurtling to the ground. I was vaguely aware of the will-o-the-wisps frantically fleeing, their little lights whooshing past my head and disappearing into nothing. My head was throbbing, my ears were ringing, and every inch of my body screamed something just went horribly wrong.
Angling my head up, I saw the shield Mel had put up a moment ago was holding, though it had started flickering. I wasn’t sure how she had managed to stay upright, but she was on one knee, with both hands outstretched, Gullie still hovering between them. She was beaming with light, wreathed in it. It really was something to see.
Cillian suddenly screamed, with a sound that curdled my blood. I turned over, onto my side, and saw him now, on his knees, clutching his horns and roaring into the snow around his feet. Around him, tendrils of darkness began to writhe and draw out of his body, emerging and surround him in a kind of thick, shadowy mantle.
The Prince slammed his fists against the ground, and the cloak of shadow shot out from his back, the tendrils exploding out of him like they were alive. I watched these shadow limbs stretch out and reach for the sky where they met like waves crashing together. In moments, the darkness expanded like blood in water, creating a much deeper shadow that stood in stark contrast to the Veridian hanging above it.
And from the darkness, came a giant face, black as pitch, with glowing red eyes and large, curved horns. It was a face that had haunted my nightmares since the day I saw it in the mirror.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Radulf.
He hung in the sky like an angry God, watching us with an angry scowl on his face. Dark tendrils of shadow stretched from the extremities of his form all the way to the ground, where they merged with Cillian’s body like some kind of horrible marionette.
“The wolf bitch thinks she can sever my link,” Radulf roared with a voice like an avalanche. “She is wrong.”
I had to fight to get to my feet. The explosion had knocked the wind right out of me, but others had it worse. Mira was still down, as were some of the moon children. Ashera had fallen on her back, but she was propping herself up on her elbows and staring up at the horrible face glaring down on us from above.
“Radulf!” I yelled, pushing the limits of my own voice to try and get it past the howl of the wind. “It’s over! You have to let him go.”
“Is that so? And why would I do that? My little brother and I have such a strong bond; I don’t see any reason to break it.”
“It’s not too late for you, Radulf. I know what happened, I know you didn’t ask for this—we can help you if you let him go!”
“You know nothing, half-breed.”
“He told me everything. He told me you were injured, and that your father sent you to the Veridian to try and heal you, but that it didn’t work.”
Radulf laughed, and thunder grumbled. “I entered the storm a broken man and emerged with powers beyond my own comprehension. I am more than a man, now. I am a God, I have justice to dispense, and there is nothing you can do to change that.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Ashera said, lending her voice to mine. “Your link is exposed, spirit. I can sever them with a thought.”
“So, sever them, then! Come near him and see what happens.”
Ashera glanced at me, then looked over at Cillian. She didn’t wait for my go ahead, nor did she ask my permission. Instead, she hurled herself at the Prince, drawing a dagger from her belt as she went and readying it in her hand. I saw the focus in her eyes, the determination in her stride—she was lithe, and quick, and powerful, but a strike of lightning blasted the ground in front of her and knocked her off her feet.
Breathless I watched her sail through the air before slamming into the ground. “No!” I screamed, and I rushed toward the Prince, fury driving my instincts and blinding me to all rational thoughts. I drew my dagger as well, caught sight of one of the tendrils linking Radulf and the Prince, and then I drove the dagger all the way through it.
But the tendril didn’t break.
I backed up, watching the inky black coil only shift and move, but not sever. Radulf laughed again, the sound reverberating inside of my chest. I stared at the dagger in my hand. The gem was glowing, I could feel the magic coursing through it, but it hadn’t worked. Something was wrong.
“Did you think it would be that easy?” Radulf roared. “In a couple of minutes, my Wenlow are going to tear down that flimsy shield and eat every last one of you. And then after my brother and I are done with you, girl, we’re going to go back to the castle and assemble my army.”
I shuddered all over. He knew. He knew what Cillian and I had been doing, how close we’d gotten. Was he there when the Prince and I were intimate? Was he watching from behind Cillian’s eyes?
Oh no… was he in the driver’s seat?
“Did you think you had kept me down all this time?” Radulf asked, “Did you seriously think I emerged not once during your time with my brother? I have to admit I’m looking forward to the day I get to be in complete control of his body… I can do things to you he could never do.”
“Enough!” Cillian screamed.
He hadn’t said a word until now, and the sound of his voice took me by surprise. The Prince turned around and stared at the sky. His hands were balled into tight fists, his eyes were bloodshot and red, all the veins in his neck had popped. He looked like he was in pain, and in a lot of it. The dark tentacles shooting out of his body were real enough that they were ripping through his clothes—I couldn’t be sure, but maybe they were tearing through his skin, too.
“My brother speaks,” Radulf said, his guttural voice seeming to spread for miles. “Tell me, are you going to protest to my treatment?”
“No,” Cillian said, and he tore his shirt open with his hands, exposing his chest. “I am going to ask her to kill me.”
“Don’t you dare!” Radulf roared.
“Dahlia, do it,” Cillian said, “You know you have to. Ashera is the only one who can cut them, and she can’t get close—only you can, and that means there’s only one choice left.”
Marked (The Coldest Fae Book 3) Page 19
