Page 67 of Ashen Wings

Jace has his back to me, but he, too, masters this deadly dance. He’s smoother than water as he plows through body after body, an unstoppable force of darkness, death incarnate. The blade sheathed to his back stays put. Whether he’s showing off or prefers the ease of a damned pocketknife I’m not sure, but there’s little time to question his methods.

Samkiel barks a command, letting his soldiers file in through the corridor head first. Man after man falls to my blade as I carve and cut and kill my path toward him. Jace throws me a nod, the delicious violence glinting in his eyes equal in fury to my own.

Samkiel is mine. He’ll make sure of it.

When I’ve pulled my blade from the last soldier, the house quiets. I don’t waste breath as I fly down the remaining hallway, closing the distance between me and my raw, scorching vengeance. My breath is ragged in my throat and my pulse throbs in my ears, but I don’t care. I need this kill. I need to watch life fade from Samkiel’s eyes as I claw out his insides. A part of me is terrified of the pure wrath I’ve become, but that part is easily silenced.

Jace reaches him before I do, but Samkiel doesn’t flinch as he wraps a hand around his throat, he simply draws a bitter smile over his lips.

“This isn’t over, Ashborne. I’ll get what I want eventually, I always do,” he whispers. Before I can wield my killing blow, Samkiel’s body flickers, like he’s made of smoke, then evaporates into dust.

Without his body for resistance, I lose balance. My boots squeal on the blood-coated tile as I slide toward Jace, falling straight into his outstretched arm.

“What the fuck?! Where did he go?” I cry.

Clasping his arms around me, Jace catches me. His familiar scent wafts through me, but there’s a tinge of something new. A hint of coppery blood and a musty, ancient spice. His body thrums like the cosmos themselves course through his veins. My breath hitches as I glance at his fingers winding around my bicep.

“Jace…what the fuck…?” There’s too much to process all at once.

First, we watch Samkiel, a stranger only to me, vanish into thin air. Now, my heart slams against my chest, and it’s not the come down of bloodlust that’s setting its tempo.

Jace’s fingers are painted a star speckled shade of onyx. The color trickles up his knuckles like he’s been dipped in ink, stopping below his palm.

And his nails…Astora help me…they’re pointed, sharp, and no longer human.

“Nova, your head…” Jace’s words are distorted and rushing like I’ve been plunged underwater. I bring a shaking hand to my hairline. My fingers return stained red.

“Your hands…Jace, what the fuck is wrong with your hands?” My skull pounds with the fading adrenaline. Pain ignites over my brow, blazing and hot.

“We need to get you to a healer.” He drops his hand to his trousers and tucks his claws into this pocket.

“No, I’m fine. Your hands, Jace, what’s going on?”

I don’t hear his response though. Dark speckles flicker in my vision, and the world spins too fast. Jace takes one final step toward me, and everything turns to night.

31

When I wake, I’m no longer soaked in blood. The fierce pain pounding against my skull is a dull thrum matching my heart’s tempo. I sit upright, letting the bed sheet over me fall to the side.

“Try not to move. The medic’s left for the day and if you rip a stitch, I’ll have to patch you myself.” Isra’s voice ignites my headache like a torch to grass. I squeeze my eyes and relax against the headboard. The scent of a crackling fire wafts around me. We’re in my room…back in Shadow…how the fuck did I get here? I haven’t been unconscious that long, have I? The cut on my hairline was barely a scratch, it’s not possible.

“Isra? How…what?” The words come out foggy.

“Tenebris flew you back from the border this morning. You’re safe. Just take it easy, Nova. Do you need something for the pain?”

“No, I…Tenebris met us at the border? Did anyone see him?” I blink away the vibrant light pouring in from the drawn curtains.

“Jace didn’t want to risk the journey on foot given your condition, and no one but a couple border guards that probably shit their pants. How are you feeling?”

“Like I fell into Terrafyre’s vent.” Another attempt to sit up has me lurching over the bedside, heaving up my stomach’s contents. I crane my neck toward Isra’s voice and risk an open eye. The over-bright world draws tears from me, but its intensity is almost manageable.

Isra’s emerald irises spark, and without hesitation, he’s there, kneeling beside me, holding my greasy, blood-stained strands back. Trembles overwhelm me as I sputter and heave until there can’t possibly be anything left inside.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you. I’m here,” he whispers. His callouses scrape my spine and I realize something that sends another wave of sick up my throat—I’m entirely nude, save for the silken sheet I tossed aside.

“Isra…why the fuck am I naked?”

“Oh, well, you were…practically unrecognizable when you and Jace arrived. The healers washed what blood they could off of you, but your clothes were beyond saving, I’m afraid. They didn’t want to risk injuring your spine to dress you.” His cheeks pink, and if I weren’t half dead I might laugh. The decorated warrior, scarred from countless battles and blood, is now kneeling beside me embarrassed.