She fights for the world she wants to see—a world where beauty still exists, in all its incredible forms.
And she fights for us. For the gargoyles whose cold, dead hearts she resurrected from the grave. The gargoyles she loves.
The gargoyles who’d do anything to ensure she lives to see another sunrise.
Drae’s on the ground now, desperately trying to get a hit on Zorakkov, but the fucking demon prince has magic to spare. With a burst of dark energy, he knocks back every one of Drae’s attacks.
Fuck. If we can’t take that asshole off the board, I’m not sure we’ll survive this.
Another demon smashes into me, rolling us in the air, his fiery wings singeing my palms as I grapple for purchase. I finally get us righted, then shove away from him, darting around to surprise him from behind. My sword makes quick work of his head, and I take a moment to enjoy the sight of him splattering on the ground, black flames fizzling out in the snow.
Movement near the gallows catches my eye, and I head down closer to investigate.
Drae’s still locked in a stalemate with Zorakkov, but behind them, slowly creeping along the back edge of the gallows platform, is another mage.
Brian fucking Avery. Holding a blade in one hand, his lips muttering a spell I can’t even guess at.
What the hell are you up to, Avery?
Another flash of movement a few dozen yards off, and I glance down to see West making her way to the scene.
Fuck. She must’ve spotted Brian.
And now she’s going to protect him.
She loves him. She might hate him, but she loves him. And love… Well. That can make us do all sorts of crazy shit.
I bank hard and dive toward the gallows, hoping to head West off at the pass. But another demon’s on my ass. I spin around and strike, catching him in the gut. He swipes at me, landing a deep gouge in my arm. A burst of bright orange magic explodes between us, disorienting him.
I spot Laney on the ground and give her a quick nod of thanks, then haul ass to get to West. She’s already there, already running after Brian, the look on her face one of pure desperation.
“Dad!” she cries out. “No!”
At the sound of her voice, Drae loses focus, the momentary distraction just enough for Zorakkov to hit him with a blast that knocks him unconscious.
“West, stop!” I land with a hard crash, but she’s still too far out of my reach.
“Dad!” she cries out again, but before I can get to her, before I can scoop her up and carry her away from danger, another figure darts out from behind the gallows, tackling West to the ground.
“You’re mine, you ungrateful bitch!” her attacker screeches.
That voice. That fucking voice.
Eloise.
Zorakkov turns at that piercing sound, his movements awkward and jerky as he lumbers toward the women now grappling in the snow.
I don’t think. I lunge, crashing into him and taking him down, trying to slash, but he’s a lot stronger than he looks. He rolls us, pinning me beneath him just as Brian appears before us.
“I’m so sorry,” Brian says to West, his eyes full of regret. “In life, I was a terrible father. Perhaps I can finally do right by you in death.”
“No,” she gasps, still struggling against Eloise’s hold as I wrestle with Zorakkov. “Dad, no! Wait!”
But he doesn’t wait. A deep slash of his blade across his wrist, and his blood is spilling into the snow. He recites a spell and the blood glows like hot coals.
“Dad,” she whispers. One last attempt.
One last goodbye.
