Page 314 of The Edge of Darkness

Lyceius scoffed. “I must say, I never expected you to sweet-talk the witch goddess into fighting on your side. Had I known her allegiance was so easily bought, I, myself, would have gone after long ago.”

“Her allegiance wasn’t bought,” I growled. “It was earned. An effort in which you seem to lack the skills to achieve.” He narrowed his eyes on me, but I continued. “You once begged the fates to side with you, but in that, you failed just as well. Skadi may have conveniently fallen on your doorstep, but don’t think for one second that her arrival was a bone the fates threw to you.”

The corner of his mouth tugged up, but it was not in amusement. His patience was thinning, and I was gnawing at his ego.

Good. It was about time he got invested in this.

“Oh, Auren. I wish you could see how different things could be if you would just take your place at my side. Despite not being at my full strength, I’ve achieved this.” He spread his arms out to the chaos beyond. “Think of what we could do, together.”

“I’m here to end you, not join you,” I replied.

He paused for a moment before tilting his ear forward. “Do you hear that?”

I squinted, unease prickling against my conscience.

“The screams . . . the death.” His eyes fluttered closed. “It shouldn’t sound so good, but it does.”

“You monster!” I spat.

His eyes snapped open, and he took a powerful step forward. “This war could end right this minute. No more death. No more destruction⁠—”

“Liar—”

“Submit to me!” he shouted, his voice shaking the stones. “I do not want to take your life, but I will do it, Auren. I will take what is mine!”

“You can try.”

I sank into my well, expecting to have to defend myself against a wall of Lyceius’s power. What I did not expect was a rush of wings and shadows breaking into view on my right.

Niall and Silas emerged from thin air, dripping with a ferocity I’d never seen.

“Are you in need of assistance, darling?” Niall’s voice was low and deep. His shadows spilled forth, wrapping around me like protective hands as he took his place at my side.

His leathers and armor were slashed from claws and blades. Somehow, somewhere, he’d lost his helm, and his hair was matted with sweat, dirt, and gore. Even covered in the blemishes of war, he was still a masterpiece—the embodiment of collected rage and deadly devotion.

Silas looked much the same. His once white wings were stained with gore, and his twin blades were so defiled with blood and dirt that they hardly reflected any light at all. He rolled them in his wrists, aiming them toward the fallen god as he took his place at my other side, a beacon of strength, with a grimace to match the wrath in his pulsing red eyes.

They’d found me, just like I knew they would. They would always find me.

Lyceius smirked as he beheld the three of us. If he thought Niall had exhausted all his power, he was wrong. And if he thought Silas was just another Dionach, he was mistaken in that as well. Silas fought with a fierceness that had only been matched by Remic. It didn’t matter if it was a god or the god-king himself standing in his way, he would fight for me with unwavering fervor.

As for me, I had been saving all my strength and power for this moment. The fallen god truly had no idea what he was facing.

“It’s a shame that we couldn’t settle this, just the two of us,” Lyceius said, leveling his silver stare back on me. He tilted his head again, a strand of his silvery locks falling over his cheek. “The one who is meant to stop me. But then why haven’t you? I’m perfectly within your reach.”

“That’s enough,” Niall growled.

Lyceius ignored him. “You feel it, don’t you? That little piece of me? That darkness that wants to come to the surface? I can see it in your eyes. You nearly succumbed to it not too long ago—in this very spot. Don’t you remember? You nearly gave into it earlier as well. Your taste for vengeance is . . . inspiring.”

Niall tensed. Clearly, Roirdan hadn’t had time to tell him everything that had happened.

“So, why not act on it?” Lyceius pressed. His voice was cloying but bitter at the same time. The words were like an allure, tempting my will, like a compulsion. It pulled at the kernel of his power inside me, trying to tug it to the surface.

I ground my teeth, fighting the tension that rose within me.

“Don’t be afraid of it,” he coaxed. “Embrace it.”

“Shut your fucking mouth!” Niall commanded.