“She didn’t tell you, did she?” Vultaron pressed Noctis down inch by inch, the dagger’s blade dangerously close to his throat. “She was not only sent into exile. Her powers were stripped from her, surelyas punishment for her disloyalty. She is as mortal as you.” A gleeful smile spread across his lips as he hissed the next words. “And she will die like you.”
“No!” Noctis roared, magic surging toward him in a crashing wave. Lightning exploded from above, casting the grappling foes into stark relief. For a horrifying moment, it seemed the power would consume them both, their skin glowing as if lit from within. With a cackling laugh, Vultaron raised his hands toward the sky, letting the magic rage through him.
Then the Elf screamed. Flames tinged with green and purple erupted from his mouth and eyes, engulfing his entire body in a blazing inferno that reduced him to ashes.
Despite the gruesome sight, my eyes remained fixed on Noctis. What if the same happened to him? The mere thought barely allowed me to draw breath.
His hands still clasped the dagger as he turned to face me, his hair flowing around him in an intangible wind. His eyes glowed with an otherworldly light, a smile brightening his face, brimming with unexpected, iridescent joy.
I stared at him, my heart aching. How many years had passed since I had seen him like this? Shining with power and a nearly innocent delight at wielding it?
A sudden groan escaped Noctis, breaking the moment. Sparks of Chaos magic flickered over his skin, his face contorting in pain. Ice trickled down my spine. It was too much. While thelyr-stone in the dagger allowed him to harness the power of Chaos being drawn to him, his mortal body was too frail to channel so much magic. He could not control it for long.
“Noctis!” I cried out, struggling to my feet. “You have to let go of it.”
His full lips drew back into a snarl as he shook his head. His outstretched hands, still holding the dagger, visibly trembled.
“Belekoroz!” I pleaded, hesitating to touch him, fearing it would make things worse. “Please.”
He stared down at me, those beautiful eyes lost in flames, a dark abyss illuminated by bursts of lightning that threatened to pull me under. “Baradaz,” he said with a breathless laugh. “This is glorious.”
He was drunk on the power. If I couldn’t find a way to bring him back, the storm would consume him. His veins already glowed beneath his skin. I was running out of time.
Before I could make up my mind on what to do, a dark shadow lunged out of the rain with a shrill howl. Sharp claws sank deep into Noctis’s forearm, Bane hissing and spitting so wildly he appeared twice his size. The cat’s attack made Noctis drop the dagger, dissipating the magic. He staggered, and as I instinctively reached out for him, we both tumbled to the muddy ground, landing on our knees.
I couldn’t tell who was supporting whom, his arms encircling me, his breaths as ragged as mine. The rain poured down relentlessly, dripping from our hair and clothes in steady rivulets. But I hardly noticed. His proximity, the sheer presence of his larger frame against mine, clouded my senses. The smell of lavender from the soap I used in my washing drifted into my nose, but beneath, there was a scent I knew only too well.
Cold and spicy, with a hint of ashes and lightning. Darkness and Chaos. Him.
I should have moved away. I shouldn’t have wanted to bury my face against his neck and breathe him in deeply. And I definitely shouldn’t have wanted to pretend that it had all just been a bad dream.
The war. Everything that had happened. Everything he had done.
Don’t,the last remnants of my good sense warned me.Hold onto at least that much of your dignity. You are only going to get yourself hurt. Again.
“What were you thinking?” I moved back to scrutinize his face, seeking refuge in anger, which felt like my sole remaining defense. “You were supposed to rest in bed.”
Noctis blinked down at me as if he did not understand my words. Then, the relief on his face transformed into pissed-off annoyance at my tone. “I was trying to save your life,” he snapped. “Thank you very much.” He glared at me. “Besides, what wereyouthinking, hiding the fact that you lost your powers from me?”
I met his anger without flinching. “Like you hid the fact that your whole group of little dark disciples is after you?”
Noctis scoffed. “I had no idea they were. There’s a reason I stayed far away from the Chiasma after I was sentenced. They cannot be trusted.” He glanced away. “My meeting with Tharion was not exactly planned.” Before I could probe deeper, his gaze met mine again. “Why did you risk your life to save me?”
I knew his words were meant to keep me from asking any more questions. My lips curled into a challenging smile. “You once said ending your existence would be my privilege alone. Surely you don’t expect me to leave that task to some third-rate servant of Chaos.”
Noctis didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he watched me, head slightly tilted as if he were trying to solve a puzzle. “And when,” he asked, amusement dancing in his dark eyes, “do you plan to kill me? Just so I can prepare myself.”
I glared at him, not liking his smug tone. He mistook my willingness to engage in a fight with one of the Chiasma as a sign that I was softening toward him. Which I was not. Not in the slightest. Despite still leaning into his embrace.
I pushed against his chest, trying to wriggle free, only to cry out as sharp pain shot through my wrist.
Long, elegant fingers closed firmly around my arm, preventing me from getting up. Noctis cradled my injured wrist, his touch sending an unsettling warmth through me. “What happened to your hand?” he asked softly.
“I fell on it when he threw me against the barn,” I muttered, averting my gaze. His proximity was almost unbearable. “It’s agony. I don’t think I can use it.”
An anxious meow signaled Bane’s arrival. The cat pressed against me, providing a welcome distraction.
“Well done,” I praised him, patting his silky black fur and putting some distance between myself and Noctis.
