Page 140 of Facade

I was so caught up watching him, I didn’t see Cressida at the top of the hill where the skurs stood frozen, until it was too late.

With a flick of her outstretched hands, the horde surged forward. The shrieks grated against my nerves, a new fear taking root.

Two skurs were within an arm’s reach of Ryker’s back—Dimitri was on him, too. My heart stuttered—

Dimitri leaped over Ryker, his incredible jaws locking around one skur’s head, ripping it clean off.

Ryker whipped around, catching the other skur across its chest with his sword. It stumbled back, giving him time to swing his other sword at its neck.

Injured wolves slowly limped off the field, shifting back to their human forms, covered in mud and blood—their screams of pain burrowing deep into my bones.

I had no idea who was on our side. But I found myself walking toward them, wanting—no. Needing to help in some way.

“Evanee—” Malachai started. But I barely heard him or anything else. My stomach knotted—the Fae King stalked to where the injured wolves gathered and began killing them all.

I snatched a sword from the ground, ignoring the stabbing pain that jolted in my leg with every strike of my foot on the ground as I dodged steel, teeth, and corpses.

His eyes widened as I came upon him, throwing his sword up at the last second. If I thought Aiden’s smiles cruel, the Fae Kings were the depiction of evil.

“Aiden said you had fire in you,” he laughed. “He was a fool in his pathetic attempt to win you over. ”

I slid my sword off his, the steel groaning as I arced it overhead and advanced, one step at a time. He cackled, effortlessly deflecting my strikes.

“I, on the other hand, believe in making things heel. I guess that’s why my wife chooses to hide in the summer palace. As if I couldn’t have her brought here any time I like.”

He twisted, pushing my sword off before landing a push kick to my stomach, sending me flying backward. Air rushed from my lungs at impact, my wings flat on either side.

My skin rippled as my Gargoyle retreated. I panted, catching my breath as he stood tall above me, pointing his sword at my bare chest. I fought a flinch and instead raised my chin.

“I’ll enjoy breaking you, Evanee. You will bear me a child so I can get my magic. The Witches owe me,” he seethed through gritted teeth.

“You won’t lay one fucking finger on me,” I bit out, shaking as the freezing rain bit into my skin.

“We’ll see about that.” Cruelty lit his features as he raised his sword.

A roar split the battlefield.

Thunder cracked—loud, close—shaking the ground beneath us.

I flinched, expecting lightning to cleave me in two. Werewolves howled—surging forward as the skurs faltered.

Ryker flew for the hill where the rest of the Skur army waited. His wings snapped wide—white flecks glowing like stars scattered across the night sky.

Thunder cracked again—a jagged bolt of lightning tore straight for him.

My breath caught.

The King shielded his eyes as Ryker lifted his hand… and caught it. Gripping it like a sword, he surged higher into the sky—and brought the bolt down, incinerating skurs. When he turned his head toward me, his eyes were pure silver.

No blue. No mercy.

“Impossible… " the King breathed as he watched Ryker with hunger, jaw slack.

I moved—taking advantage of his distraction, snatching my sword from the ground and swinging it as hard as I could. He deflected—but not before I carved a slice through his eye.

A bellow of rage tore from him, his free hand covering the mangled flesh. Blood spilled between his fingers. I didn’t hesitate—I ran, gritting my teeth as my leg half-dragged behind me.

I ducked branches and avoided bodies as his thunderous cry followed. The night flashed as Ryker summoned more lightning, tearing through that horrific army of abominations.