Pain blossomed in Elyria’s muscles as she moved, angling herself in front of Kit. There was no time to do anything else, and Elyria could only pray that her body might protect Kit from the magical blow—the final act of defiance from a man with nothing left to lose.
Then, just before he released the wave of dark magic roiling around him, Belien shifted. He twisted his body, guiding his bloodied arm until it was pointing at someone else.
And Elyria’s heart plummeted into her gut.
“Cedric!” His name ripped from her throat. It was too late. She could do nothing but watch as Belien’s magic arced through the air, a twisted bolt of blood-red lightning that hit Cedric in the center of his chest.
The knight soared backward, the deafening clang of his armor echoing through the cavern as he slammed into the wall and slid limply to the floor.
The entire world narrowed as Elyria leapt to her feet, pain and exhaustion a distant memory. She sprinted to Cedric’s side, her stomach twisting as she spotted the smear of red on the wall behind him. His eyes were closed, his face drained of color, but his brow was furrowed, his lips moving. Relief and terror tugged at her chest in equal measure. He was hurt—very, very badly—but he was alive.
An inhuman growl sounded from behind her. She turned her head. Belien was still alive too. Hunched over, panting, veins of scarlet continuing to creep over his skin, even as he bled out onto the cavern floor. His crimson gaze locked on Cedric’s pained face, on the slight movement there.
“No.” Elyria’s voice was made of stone and steel as she stood,positioning herself between Belien and Cedric. Her eyes flared with a promise as the ground trembled beneath her feet.
This time, it wasn’t the labyrinth.
It was the Revenant.
There was no second guessing. No pulling or begging or cajoling her power. With a single thought, ribbons of shadow shot from her hands, cinching around Belien’s arms, waist, neck.
With another, Elyria tore open the fissure in the ground.
And Belien didn’t even have time to shout his final words before she released him into the chasm and the earth swallowed him whole.
32
SURVIVOR’S GUILT
CEDRIC
Fog clungto Cedric’s consciousness. He felt heavy. He tried to move, but his limbs were distant, detached. He was drifting, unsure of where he was,whenhe was, exactly what happened during those last moments in the cavern. Glimpses cut in and out of his mind—the cold sneer on Belien’s face, sparks of red lightning, Elyria’s panicked voice calling Cedric’s name, and then...pain.
Pain and this tepid, foggy nothingness.
There was no pain now. It was peaceful, in fact. He thought he might like to drift like this forever.
The sensation of someone hovering nearby tugged at the edges of his awareness. It pressed against his consciousness, a familiar warmth, the feeling of being right on the cusp of waking from apleasant dream.
The fog parted. His eyelids fluttered.
And Cedric knew he must be dead.
Because there, leaning over him, was the most beautiful being he’d ever beheld. And surely nothing likeherexisted in a place as harsh as the one he’d left behind.
Otherworldly beauty seeped from every plane of her face, radiating from the soft curve of her jaw, beaming from her jewel-toned eyes. Her loose periwinkle hair was luminous in the faint light as it spilled over her shoulders.
She was a goddess, watching over him as his soul slipped into the Hereafter.
He opened his eyes further and the world began to sharpen around him. Pain lanced his chest, surging through his veins like molten iron, and Cedric suddenly longed to return to that fog of nothingness.
If he was dead, why did everything hurt so damn much?
The sharp intake of breath drew his attention back to the ethereal figure floating over him, and reality struck him like a hammer.
Not a goddess.
A fae.
