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25
Maia felt like the iron cuff was on her wing again, draining all her power and strength. Shehatedfeeling weak. She'd felt small and breakable all last night, and worse when she saw Jaro for the first time this morning. The sight of him was like a hot poker shoved through her ribs into her heart. The thought of not seeing him again, never telling him she just needed time, she didn't hate him for the act and she was only hurt by the secret ... that hurt far worse than a hot poker. Far, far worse.
She flexed her fingers around Azrail's with whatever strength she had left, choking on the disgusting red mist the Levaen kept shooting at them like a bellows. It was full of flapping wings and razor beaks, like this whole realm belonged to killer birds. First the vultures and now this…
The ground shook almost constantly now, the beast advancing on them in lumbering movements.
I don't want to be fucking eaten,Maia thought miserably—and then defiantly.
She squeezed Azrail's fingers, rallying her scraps of strength to tilt her head on the ground, searching for Bryon and Ark. The big soldier had meant well, had tried to get her Ark out of here, but it had done no good. They were both collapsed on the ground now, a crimson swarm covering them, feeding from them if the trails of smoke connecting them to the Levaen were anything to go by.
Making them too weak to fight as the Levaen flopped closer, moving like a giant, fucked up slug.
Maia gritted her teeth against another wave of strength-sucking magic, goosebumps rising all across her body as the crimson birds brushed over her skin.
I won't be fucking eaten,she growled, even if she didn't have the strength to voice it.
She held on, panting, barely strong enough to keep her eyelids open, but then Azrail's fingers slid from hers.
No.
If Az had lost strength, if he'd gone ... so had Ark. So had Bryon for whatever good having him would do. Maia had almost lost them once, had thought they were dead in the destruction of the River House, but this time it was real. This time she'd really lost them.
Grief replaced the air in her lungs, erupting in a scream that should have stolen every bit of strength she had left. Instead, a trickle flowed back into her, enough that her lungs expanded further, letting more oxygen in, and the fingers she'd entwined with Azrail's began to glow.
Life—that was her power, wasn't it? Spring growth, new life, and the souls of every living being. Well life waseverywherearound her, sucked through the crimson birds, and travelling down tendrils of power to be devoured by the Levaen. Life was being dragged out of her and into the beast's smoke. She could feel it now, could make out the ebb and flow of life and death in the air.
Please, Maia begged of the saints, of anyone who could hear her as she found where the thread of red mist sucked out her strength and sank her own magic into it.
Her hands flashed moonlight silver, so bright that a dozen rainbow colours burst within the light. When the Levaen's power tore at the next part of her life, Maia dug in her magic and pulledback.
She didn't have the strength in her hands to form a clear arc to direct the magic, but her fingertips flexed, and the intention was sharp enough that Maia's grip on the crimson birds grew stronger. She grabbed a fistful of the life they had stolen from her and yanked, like a tug of war, spooling the energy and life force back into her chest where it belonged.
The Levaen roared, close enough that all the hairs rose on the back of Maia's neck and her wings twitched, exposed.
The swarm of crimson birds ruffled. The vultures took off completely, flapping hard and fast.
She flexed her glowing fingers again, and gained another handful of life, then another, then more. Sweat beaded at her temple, but it was nothing compared to the rush of power that filled her to the brim. She pulled so hard that her eyes burned and skin tingled, andfuckit felt good. To be so full of life, to be overflowing with magic and power—true, undeniable power—Maia felt unstoppable.
She pushed herself off the ground and got to her feet, not even shaky. Birds formed of red mist tore out of her body and flew away. The mist hung in the air, thin where she stood but thick everywhere else. Maia felt her lips curl with a smile.
She reached out with her hands as well as her power, grabbing hold of the mist like it was a tangible thing, like she could wring the power it had stolen out of it. She crushed birds until they scattered, wings broken.
Her hair lifted from her shoulders, floating around her face as she pulled more and more power, and she feltincredible.
The Levaen stopped two metres away, and though it had no eyes, only a flat, fleshy body and endless teeth, Maia knew it was watching her. She watched it right back.
"No onehurts my family," she growled, teeth bared as she wrenched hard enough on its stolen life to make it roar in fury. Maia sent the lifeforce she reclaimed back to Azrail, to Ark and Bryon, to the vultures watching in the distance, starving and empty.
Guardians, she realised—the long, feathered fiends of the Sentry who'd spoken to them. Maia didn't want to know what it meant that they were here, whether this was a realm within the chasm. She now wondered if they hadn't attacked them out of hunger or spite, but warning. To send them back through the mirror where it was safe.
When Maia got her hands on the soldier who'd lured them here, she was going to tear the life out of his body and throat-punch his soul.
Azrail lurched upright with a strangled gasp, pawing at his throat as he dragged in air, his eyes unfocused but frantic. A growl, deep and fae and full of wrathful warning, came from behind them, and Maia shuddered, her soul responding.
Ark.
Bolstered by the sound of her mate—not dead, not unconscious, but awake and furious—Maia stole more and more life from the Levean. It surged towards them—but met a shield of solid air, letting out the same screech as a pigeon Maia had seen slam into a glass door.
