But no matter how many they cut down, more emerged from that mountaintop. Those they thought to be dead that they had not burned were healing and coming back anew to rejoin the fight, like they had never been slain.
They were losing. If the army of hounds didn’t relent soon, they would be drained. Dolion had to know that, it had to be his plan, sending in hound after hound until their power source was empty.
The beasts began trickling past them, starting their ascent into the fallen flaming trees. They climbed upward one at a time through the embers, not a scar or burn to be seen upon their scales.
“callum!the wall!” Theo shouted as he passed, severing the heads of a dozen more hounds. The bodies dropped like sandbags.
Callum’s dark eyes were already on the enemy. Chest heaving from the fight, he disappeared, and in a billow of smoke he manifested on the other side of the stacks.
Aaron was within these trees. His brother—his life.
With violence painted on his face, he roared as he leaped from hound to hound, continuing his unrelenting butchering, tossing them into the awaiting fire.
His face was scratched and bloodied, but he refused to stop.
“that’s enough,” a grotesque voice called from inside the barrier.
Lightning struck, and the light illuminated Benon, fully encased in armor that matched the hounds’ gleaming scales. He held a knife to a helpless Aaron’s throat. The captain and his lieutenant had been so focused on the battle, they did not see the undead male sneaking in.
“Dolion told me this was your brother, teleporter. Where’s mine?” Benon asked.
Callum let his fierce eyes say it all.
Benon’s hold tightened. “Eye for an eye then. Let the hounds through, and I’ll make it a quick death. You won’t get the same bargain from the hounds.”
Callum made a move like he might leap through space and rip out Benon’s spine with his bare hands. Then he saw the well-placed helmet, the gorget. Every inch of Benon’s body was covered. Aaron would be dead before Callum could inflict lethal damage.
“Let him go,” Callum gritted out between clenched teeth.
“Or what?” Benon taunted with smug satisfaction.
Callum heard Theo still fighting in the winds behind him. The sound of his sword connecting with scaled flesh. His shouts of pure rage.
Theo couldn’t hold them alone. No matter who orwhathe was, no being could keep an undead horde at bay by themselves. Without Callum, the hounds would breach the barrier soon.
Aaron’s glazed eyes remained toward the sky, helpless as blood began to trickle from the blade at his throat.
Callum didn’t move. He swallowed as he glanced around, searching for any option—anything he could do.
If he kept fighting, his brother would fall.
If he tried to save Aaron, they’d all be dead.
The hounds were already rising above the burning trees, ready to descend toward his soldiers, his friends—his family.
Callum hung his head, the shameful defeat clear in his face.
He brought his head back up for one last look at his brother, the wordsI’m sorryon his mind. When he saw what was approaching, the words never left his lips.
CHAPTERSIXTY-SIX
Swirls of shadow decorated in grain-like silver rose from the ground. The dark bands cascaded over the valley in shimmering waves. Against the darkness those shadows shone like nothing Callum had ever seen in his centuries of existing.
He watched them curl up around Benon’s ankles like twin vipers.
“What is this?” Benon held Aaron firm as he tried kicking the shadows away.
They refused to relinquish their hold.
