CHAPTERSEVENTY-FIVE
Some of theLord’s men made it through Cole’s shadows. Though they weren’t completely unscathed, they were still alive as they funneled into the hallway toward their army.
Lexi almost screamed for her father to run but bit it back. He was a warrior, and distracting him now would only get him killed.
This was meant to happen, except they were supposed to split their army. However, there were too many of the Lord’s men to take any away from their defense now. She and Cole would have to deal with what lay beyond.
Lexi turned and ran toward the double doors as Cole stepped into the throne room. Beyond his broad shoulders, she spotted the Lord’s men standing guard.
Despite her terror over what they were about to face, love poured through her, and fire burst from her fingertips as she sprinted to catch up with Cole as he descended the stairs. She abhorred killing, and knowing she would have to do it turned her stomach, but she would torch every guard in the room if it helped keep Cole and all those she loved alive.
The sounds of the battle behind her reverberated throughout the hall. It pulsed in her ears as she entered the throne room behind Cole. She’d just cleared the doors when movement to her right drew her attention.
Lexi jumped out of the way as some of the Lord’s men lunged past her, grabbed the doors, and swung them shut. They closed with an echoing bang as the shadows swarmed over the guards, and they started screaming.
The shadows dragged them to the floor as they tore them to pieces. Lexi tried to block out their agony and the blood splattering the walls, but her stomach revolted, and she nearly heaved her breakfast onto the floor.
A shadow pulled her back when she lurched toward the doors to try to open one. From her left, a guard lunged toward her, nearly cutting her with his sword.
Out of instinct, she lifted her hands and released a wave of fire into the guard’s face. He howled and screamed as he beat the flames while trying to rip off his burning clothes, but the fire was already engulfing him.
Before she could react, a dozen guards rushed out of the shadows to separate her and Cole from the door. Each held giant balls of fire whose light chased away the shadows sliding toward them.
“Good afternoon, King Colburn!” The Lord’s voice boomed throughout the hall. “So happy to see you… and it’s exactly as I planned.”
* * *
Varo buriedhis loathing over the slaughter unfolding as he battled with Orin to keep the wendigos at bay. One of the revolting creatures took down a dark fae and proceeded to feast on his remains.
These things were so twisted, they didn’t care about being distracted and more vulnerable once they started eating. They were too focused on their need to feast; they couldn’t think about anything other than consuming the flesh of their victims.
Pieces of his soul perished, but he still used his sword to carve down anything in his way. He tried not to think of the dead bodies littering the battlefield… like Niall’s. He’d seen Cole’s friend fall and knew there was no hope for him.
He ached with the loss consuming him, but he couldn’t give way to his emotions as he struggled to block out the suffering of those around him.
If he opened himself up even a little, their misery would suffocate him. It would kill him as surely as any sword, arrow, or fire from a dragon. So instead, he forged on while pieces of himself died.
“Varo! Look out!” Brokk bellowed from somewhere in the fray.
Varo spun as a wendigo’s taloned hand arched toward his head. Ducking back, he avoided the blow that would have opened him from head to gut.
He buried his sword in the hollow pit of the wendigo’s stomach area, but there wasn’t enough flesh on the creatures for it to be considered a belly. When another one came at him from the right, Varo dodged it, but there were too many, and they separated him and Orin.
“Shit,” Varo hissed as one of the monsters seized Orin’s sword and jabbed his hand forward to embed its foot-long claws in Orin’s gut.
Unable to block out the explosion of his brother’s pain, Varo nearly screamed, but Orin didn’t make a sound as the wendigo lifted him over his head. Varo lowered his shoulder and shoved a wendigo out of his way, but from behind, one of their hands clasped his arm and yanked him back.
He turned toward the creature and lifted his sword to take it out, but another one grasped the blade. As Varo tried to rip his blade free while the other yanked at him, he knew these were the last few moments of his life, but he’d give anything to break free long enough to save Orin.
Orin would emerge from this battle the same, or mostly the same, but it would forever haunt him, just like the Lord’s war. He would be even more broken, but Orin would help to right all the wrongs the Lord unleashed.
Orinhadto survive.
When Varo released his weapon to the creature, it lifted it high but never got the chance to use it as Sahira’s mother hit the thing with a ball of fire. The woman disappeared before he could say anything.
Varo spun to punch the wendigo as the claws of another raked his back. His knees buckled and blood spilled down his backside, but he remained upright.
Before he could hammer his fist into the wendigo’s elongated, distorted black face that was more ligament than flesh, its head exploded and black blood sprayed his face. Varo spit the putrid remains from his mouth. He blinked away the goo coating his eyelashes until his mother’s face swarmed into focus.
