He fought until sweat dripped down his temples and chest. Everything was hotter because of the godsdamned dragon fire.
Vale wasn’t stopping.
Neither were the Umbra.
They kept coming.
Bastian stretched out a hand, red eyes sparking as he felled an Umbra that charged for Az.
The Umbra convulsed on the ground, screaming. "Get out! Get it out!No—" Red foam dripped from his lips.
His jerking suddenly stopped. Bastian didn’t draw out his death.
An Aqua fae rushed for Az. Water pooled in his hands. Az ducked, water spraying over him. The tendrils chased after him, forcing him against the side of the ship. At the last moment, he ducked again, slipping over the ground ungracefully—his size never allowed him the grace of a true fighter. He was all brute strength. The water arced over the side of the ship, into the sea. Dragon fire evaporated it in the air. The Umbra screamed.
Az charged, horns lowered. The Umbra was a good fighter, but no match for an angered demon. Az shoved his hand in the Umbra’s back, fingers wrapping around something sharp and spiky. He ripped out his spine. The Umbra cried in anguish, then dropped.
Az bared his teeth, using the spine to lash out at the next attacker.
He was dimly aware of how monstrous he must appear, but the thoughts were dashed away with the spray of blood and the drop of dead bodies. The rain made everything wetter, turning the thick red blood into a soft pink on the deck.
He was in the middle of ripping an arm from a screeching Umbra when there was a familiar, dark laugh beside him. He dropped the arm.
"You sick fucker," Tharen said by Az’s side. He was dripping wet, shivering.
Az shoved the tip of his boot into the Umbra’s side. It went through his stomach. He yanked it out with a grotesque squelch. "Where did you come from?"
"I swam," Tharen said without inflection. He unhooked his blades from his back, crouched, then swiped them up in a cross motion, severing an Umbra’s body clean in half.
The Prima’s eyes fell to the bloodied spine still in Az’s grip. He didn’t comment.
Az dropped the spine, cracking his knuckles. Blood was on his hands. He could never touch Luella again. He was ruined. And he?—
"Hey!" Tharen warned.
Az looked up, punching out with all his strength at an Umbra he’d missed.
"Focus!"
Az met Tharen’s eyes, then nodded.
"Go find Luella," the Prima continued. "I’ll cover you."
Az exhaled shakily, hands flexing at his sides. Gods, it was all catching up to him.
What had hedone? He was everything everyone had ever accused him of being.
A beast. A monster.
Vale’s dragon roared. Dark shadows shifted overhead—smaller than the dragon—as Graves landed on the deck. He clutched his side, face pale.
Graves’s deep blue eyes took in the carnage, his mouth carved into a grim line. "Where is she?" was all he said.
Az shook his head. "We haven’t—seen her."
The Fallen Prince growled. Az’s eyes dropped to the bloodied, torn pieces of Graves’s shirt. He cradled his ribs tenderly, but gripped the hilt of his dagger with intensity. Even injured, he was single-minded.
The Umbra were dropping quicker now that they were all here.
