My power took hold of my body, surging until it consumed me. The sensation was foreign even now. I had never quite gotten over the high I received from my shadows or how I felt as if I was genuinely indestructible when I let them take over. But, for a fleeting moment, I understood how Lachlan could become drunk on the sensation. I hated how I related to him.
The extra outpouring of the shadows fueled my fury further as they rose from the ground in snaking black columns. Murick gripped his dagger, lunging forward blindly. Rage was his weakness. It always had been. The fact I had gotten the first hit in would drive him mad, especially as he started with the upper hand. And while I was dangerously angry, I still had control over my actions.
A tendril of power shot out, blocking the hit and wrapping its vines around his arm. He screamed as they tore into his flesh, dropping to his knees. His mouth contorted, twisting into a look of pure terror and pain.
I stepped forward, looking down on him at my feet. “You are pathetic, Murick. You always have been. Perhaps if you were not too busy licking Lachlan’s boots, you could have been something more. You seek his approval and admiration, but let me tell you a secret.” I leaned down, whispering into his ear. “He will never give you what you seek. He sent you on a mission he knew you would not return from.” I dug the shadows deeper into his arm, their ravenous hunger eating away at his pain.
As I straightened up, watching him mewl on the ground, a bright light caught my eye in the distance. It crested over the hill, and thundering hooves pounded behind it until the vision became clear. Riders in red capes descended upon those in black, their forces colliding with a cataclysmic boom.
Angoria was here.
I was unsure how or why, but a battalion of nearly two hundred soldiers had joined us. The blinding panic I had felt earlier gave way to adrenaline. Eva must have sent them. It was the only way they would have known we were here. But if she sent them, that meant—
Murick took the moment of distraction to jerk free from the shadows’ loosening grip. I whipped my head back to him, seeing bits of flesh hanging limply from his arm. Bits of bone peeked through the shredded limb. He would be useless in battle without the use of it.
But I didn’t have time to comment as a rider in black armor swooped down from the sky on a giant winged beast. The gust of wind from its wings knocked me on my ass. I barely had time to see Murick as he was swept away in the creature’s claws, carrying him toward Helia and toward my mate.
“Fuck!” I cursed, dread rising as he faded from my sight. It would take less than an hour for him to get there with the speed the creature flew, perhaps even less. I’d never seen such a monstrous creation before, but I knew it must have been one of the many experiments Lachlan had been working on over the years. I was tempted to shadow-walk, but I couldn’t leave our army to fend for themselves, so it was out of the question. What I needed was a vantage point, a way for me to scout the area and see how I could turn the tables against The Horde.
The encampment already looked over the main field, where much of the fighting was now taking place, but I needed more elevation. My gaze landed on an archer tower that had been vacated. Good enough.
Climbing the rungs quickly, I scanned the area. The Horde’s black attire was easily visible amongst the clusters of red and blue. We held the advantage in numbers, thanks to Angoria, but something caught my eye in the distance. Along the tree line, a thick fog slid along the ground, peeking through the foliage until it spilled onto the battlefield like a silent death. It reminded me of a predator stalking its prey, intending to sink its teeth into any who crossed its path. The stench of rotting bodies filled my nostrils, carried on a phantom wind across the field. I fought against the retch building in my throat.
No one else had noticed it, or if they had, they thought it unassuming. “Retreat!” I yelled, pointing toward the fog. Others caught on, and quickly the command spread down the lines, but it was already too late. By the time the furthest soldiers noticed the threat, it was already upon them. They tried to run, but it moved too fast. I watched in horror as it reached them, the mist enveloping their bodies until they were completely hidden. Their screams rang out, even over the cacophony of war.
As the mist grew closer, members of The Horde began slitting their own throats and choking on their blood as if it was a badge of honor to kill themselves in the name of their cause. Undoubtedly, it was part of Lachlan’s orders, trapping us on a field with nowhere to run.
“Fall back!” I bellowed to our soldiers. “Fall back now!” Shouts of terror surrounded me on all sides as the soldiers ran toward the encampment, trampling lifeless bodies beneath their feet as they fought to stay ahead of the mist. It sucked the life out of anything it touched; leaves fell from their branches at the treeline and the grass turned black, both crumbling to dust as a whisper of air blew past its blades.
I took a calming breath, fought the anxiety flooding my body, and focused on a way to get us out. I raised my hands, casting out my shadows like a shield. There was no guarantee it would work, but we would be dead regardless if I did nothing. As the fog brushed against the barrier, I felt the malicious energy pushing against it. Gritting my teeth, I increased the pressure, but it did little. Though it hadn’t completely stopped its advance, it had slowed down significantly and given people time to move.
I looked below, thankful the majority of our soldiers made it back unharmed. There were others on the field assisting those who were injured. Luka had taken control, ushering people forward and instructing them where to go. He was halfway down the field, wrapping his arm around an Angorian soldier struggling to stand. The man’s shoulder was bleeding profusely, and he was swaying on his feet. They stumbled forward as fast as they could, passing an archer scanning the area for anyone left behind. Luka shouted at him to move, pointing frantically behind them in warning.
The archer turned to follow Luka, hesitating only a moment to look back at all the bodies we had to leave behind. The three of them still had quite a bit of space to cover before they’d make it to where we were gathered. No sooner had the man taken a handful of steps when something shot out and gripped his ankle. He went down hard, a sharp cry ripping from his throat as he looked toward his feet. I could detect faint movement, but whatever it was had been blocked from my view by the numerous casualties littering the ground.
He flipped over, kicking desperately to detach whatever had ahold of his ankle. The faint glint of metal caught my eye as he drew a knife from his boot and slammed it down with vicious intent. The blade came away coated in black blood, and he tucked it back in before attempting to stand.
The pressure against my shadows increased, the blood-thirsty fog craving the taste of his flesh. Death was coming for him, but I fought against the strain to buy him some more time. My muscles strained, and a thin layer of sweat coated my brow. “Come on, come on, come on,” I muttered to myself, blocking out everything but this one task.
It was no use, though, for the power behind it was too great for me alone.
The archer pushed off the ground, his ankle dragging behind him as he limped forward. Not that it would matter, though, for the mist was gaining purchase and would soon overtake him. Yet he refused to give up, fighting the pain through gritted teeth.
As Luka drew near, he looked back, pausing when he noticed the state of the struggling man behind him. Two soldiers ran from the encampment to meet him, quickly grabbing hold of the Angorian Luka had been carrying. My friend looked up at me for a brief moment, and I shook my head. His face was resolute, fire burning in his amber eyes. Before I could shout for him to stop, he took off in a dead sprint toward the man who’d fallen behind.
“Shit,” I cursed, trying to think of anything further I could do to help. As it was, neither of them would make it out in time, and Luka hadn’t hesitated to place his life on the line to help another.
If I shadow-walked, I could save them, but it could also condemn everyone else. I wouldn’t be able to sustain both at the same time. But if I timed it just right, I could be in there and back before either of them blinked. Time was ticking away quickly as the mist swiftly moved toward its prey.
Luka fought against his exhaustion, pushing his body farther with each stride. Even if he did make it to the archer, he would not have the strength to carry them both in order to escape unscathed. Luka surged forward, gripping the man by his forearm, and pulling him to his feet. Even from where I stood, I could tell Luka was fading fast. He stumbled, attempting to shoulder the man’s weight while keeping himself upright.
Would I be able to live with Luka’s death when I knew I could’ve tried to stop it?
There wasn’t much time left; it would only take the smallest hesitation on their part for the mist to swallow them whole. Whatever I was going to do, I needed to do it now.
“Gods spare us,” I murmured, focusing on their location.
Blowing out a quick breath, I dropped my shield and descended into the shadows before I could think about the implications this could have. Since the barrier had broken, the fog moved much faster, seeking out its victims with ferocity, and only providing me with the smallest of windows to grab them both and get out.
