Her words sent a shiver down my spine, but they described this approaching army perfectly.
Chapter Forty-One
Bale
From the fourthfloor of the hotel, the highest level in the building, I caught glimpses of the army coming toward us. The only problem was, I couldn’t see many of them as the snow and trees obstructed my view. I caught a glimpse of Death before he vanished. Not knowing where that monstrosity was bothered me more than the hundred or so craetons marching toward us.
I didn’t see Pride, but he was out there, somewhere. Beside me, Wrath had his hand resting over the top of the windowpane as he leaned forward to peer down the mountain. The tension thrumming through him belied his casual posture.
I feared for him more than I did myself. He was right; the horsemen wouldn’t stop until they killed him.
My hand tightened on my sword as I held it by my side. I would slaughter every last one of these bastards before I let Pride and Death get their hands on Wrath. They would punish him for his betrayal and make him suffer. I refused to let that happen; he’d suffered enough behind the seal.
“It’s time to go fight,” Wrath said and started to turn away from the window.
Before he could step away from me, I seized his thickly muscled wrist. Beneath my hand, his muscles bunched, and his eyes were black shards of ice when they met mine. I didn’t know what to say; I wasn’t sure there was anything I could say as emotions clogged my throat.
“Don’t worry, I’m tough to kill,” he said with a smile that showed the hint of his dimple.
Before I could respond, he broke my hold on him, clasped my cheeks in his palms, and kissed me. The short, fierce kiss left me breathless when he pulled back. His gaze searched mine before he released me and turned away, but not before I saw the flash of fire in his eyes.
The emotion swelling inside me twisted and shifted until it became something I couldn’t quite identify. I hadn’t known him for long, a part of me still believed we might have to destroy him one day, but I couldn’t imagine my life without him.
I’d never considered myself alone in this world, not even after I lost my parents and Fiora. I still had my king, Corson, and my friends. I still had my cause and battles to fight.
I never realized, until he walked into my life, that I was lonely. Before him, I’d never woken in the arms of another, but I found myself cherishing every morning I woke in his arms. And after today, that might not happen again.
But then, after today, the worst of this war could beover. Hope surged through me, but I stifled it. There was still a battle to fight before that possibility might become a reality. I glanced at the windows and straightened my shoulders. They were coming to destroy us all, but I wouldn’t let them win.
“They have an army, and so do we,” Magnus said.
As I stared out the window, demons started to materialize in the snow. Replicas of us, the hounds, Wrath, Zorn, and demons who weren’t with us, emerged amid the evergreens in front of the hotel. I saw some of River and Kobal; the ones of Kobal would provide a good distraction as I was sure many of the craetons would go for the king first.
I studied the battlefield the front of the hotel was soon to become. The trees closest to the building were far smaller than the mass of trees fifty feet away. The land in front of the building must have been clear before and probably made up of grass. When the gateway opened and the humans fled the Wilds, the trees crept in to take it over again.
More demons materialized amid the smaller trees until Magnus’s illusions numbered close to two hundred. The illusions wouldn’t deter the craetons for long, but it would keep some of them distracted long enough for the real versions of us to move against them.
“We should get down there,” Corson said. “We have to be standing with the illusions when they arrive.”
“We have a problem,” I said.
“And what’s that?” Magnus asked.
“The illusions don’t make marks in the snow, we do.”
They all turned to look at the figments standing in the snow.
“Shit,” Shax said.
“Send the hounds out,” Wrath said from where he stood by the door. “Have them bound through the snow and tear it up. They won’t be able to tell who’s leaving marks and who isn’t after that.”
“Good idea,” Amalia said.
“Let’s go,” Corson said. Clasping Wren’s hand, he brought it to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. They embraced before Corson led the way out of the room.
* * *
Wrath
