Page 101 of Facade

Malachai.

28

Aniah

Aiden was nowhere to be seen, having taken to the skies as soon as he realized Evanee wasn’t there, leaving me with Malachai and the Werewolves. The rain stopped quickly, but the dampness left the air chillier than before. However, that could be the uncomfortable silence that had settled between us.

Malachai didn’t act as if he recognized me in the slightest as he ordered the Shadow Stalkers back to wherever they came from, then bound my wrists and scooped me into his arms, flying fast and hard for Castle Lawryn. My heart shattered at the coldness leaking off of him. Not one word as he flew us in his gargantuan red form. The last time I saw him in his Gargoyle form had been our last night together, three years ago, when everything had gone so terribly wrong.

They struck right before sunrise, catching the entire Gargoyle kingdom unawares. Screams had woken me. I’d fallen asleep in Malachai’s rooms again after an endless night of festivities celebrating the upcoming wedding and matching ceremony of Evanee and Aiden.

I hurried to the window, the moonlight shining through and lighting up my naked body. My stomach twisted as hell spilled beyond the gates, bile burning my throat.

Homes burned in the outer towns, and an army of skurs raced toward the castle, feasting on anything in their paths. Horror sank its claws into me as the bloodthirsty monsters—Cressida’s abominations—tore through women, children, and the elderly without pause.

“Malachai! We’re under attack!” I yelled. His golden eyes lit up the dark as he rolled out of bed, immediately alert, and started to pull his black battle leathers on. With shaking fingers, I dressed, unable to leave the window.

“How many?” he demanded, his warrior taking over.

“At least a thousand skurs on the horizon. Maybe more. There’s an armada approaching in the far distance, but I can’t tell who or what,” I breathed, heart racing as I braided my long hair. In my long lifespan, I’d seen battles. I’d helped in them. But I'd never seen war. It was my sisters’ and my purpose to keep wars from breaking out between the realms. So how was this happening right now?

Malachai buckled the last piece in place.

Gargoyle battle leathers were built for the shift—if they wore them at all. Their pants allowed enough room for their growth in height and muscle, and rode low enough for their tail. The breast plate buckled in the front, leaving enough room for their wings, yet still easy to shed if needed. Strange in their human form, but breathtaking when they changed. Under normal circumstances, I liked seeing Malachai in his leathers. Now, it turned my blood cold.

More screams filled the air, and battle horns blared in the distance, followed by the beating of drums.

Malachai looked out the window.

“The Fae,” he growled.

“What? That’s not possible. It—it can’t be. Why would Cressida allow this? And the skurs?” My mind was working in overdrive as I tried to understand how any of this could be happening. Cressida, no matter how evil her heart may be, wouldn’t do this. She wouldn’t risk the wrath of the Coven Council, would she? The penalty for such a crime would be death. The Coven Council had spies everywhere. Surely they knew.

“The skurs were never supposed to leave the dead isles.” My voice cracked as I slipped on my cloak, fire lighting in the distance.

“It doesn’t matter, they’re here.” He walked over, gently tilting my chin up. “Aniah, if things go badly, you must leave here. Promise me.” His expression was hard, but his eyes soft. Worried.

“I can’t just run-away Mal. I have obligations to this kingdom.”

“I can’t be the warrior my King needs me to be if I’m worried about you.” His eyes looked at me pleadingly. “I love you.” He leaned his head against mine.

I gritted my teeth. "I love you too, Malachai. But that doesn’t change the fact that I, too, have a job to do.” I pulled back, meeting his searing gaze. “I may not be the big, bad warrior you are. But I am by no means helpless. I'm one of the Four Sisters. I can hold my own.” I crossed my arms. “Besides. Maybe I need you to run away so I can be the Witch I need to be.”

He playfully scoffed, then smiled, fangs grazing his lips. One of his very rare, genuine smiles that I lived for. “Very well.”

I wrapped my arms around him, and he rested his chin on my head. Both of us were rigid as bloodshed happened right outside. But this could be our last moment. The thought made my chest squeeze, but I couldn’t focus on that right now.

“Can I ask that you be as safe as possible then?”

I smiled, breathing in his scent of pine and leather. “As long as I can ask the same?” I looked up at him, batting my eyes.

“I'd do anything you ask of me, Aniah.” My smile fell.

I never planned to fall in love. It wasn't the way of Witches. Especially one of the Four. If I lost him—

War horns sounded, and shouting echoed in the halls.

Malachai kissed me, barely a brush of his lips against mine. A kiss I hadn’t realized at the time would be our last. Then we swiftly made our way to our own battles outside and I waited until he shifted and joined the ranks, before setting off on my own path.