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I stop walking once I reach the line of dead laid out to be identified. Ignoring the body parts piled together and the stench of charred flesh, I sink to my knees beside Fin’s lifeless body. My chest tightens painfully seeing him now even as I’d already known he was gone. Bea is alive because he sacrificed himself.
A hero to the very end, that was Fin.
An Ancient shoved a blade through his abdomen while I’d been standing guard over an empty fucking tent. A sob rips from my chest as I place my hand on him. “I am so sorry, brother.” Reaching into my sheathe, I withdraw my dagger and slice the braid of hair boasting two black beads.
I do this because he is no longer grieving. Even as hard as his death is for me to carry, I take solace in knowing he is with his mate and their child in whatever waits for us beyond this life. After slicing through the hair, I stand and turn away, heading toward the trees. Once inside, I throw the braid as far as I can.
Out of anger, pain, grief—but most of all—out of failure.
I failed them all tonight.
“Where do we go from here?”
Turning, I face the living. Bea and Thorish have followed me into the trees, and both fae stare back at me, their golden gazes full of grief. “We recruit,” I tell them, swallowing down my emotion. The fact is this is war. Something I forgot because I was too wrapped up in my own feelings.
War has sacrifices. Which is what we faced tonight. New enemy. Same fight.
“Recruit? Raffe, the ancients escaped. No one is going to go up against them. It may have been before even our lifetimes, but thanks to the stories, people remember.”
I shift my gaze to Bea. “They are going to have to fight. Because as the stories told it, they deemed us pets. Abominations to be controlled, used, toyed with, and discarded. Either they fight for their lives, or they die at the hands of their nightmares.” I snap the words with a bit more anger than I meant, but I can’t help it.
I’m barely fucking hanging on here.
“We cannot run off and risk everything to save her,” Thorish states. “She’s just one woman.”
I whirl on him, checking my rage a mere heartbeat before I can rip his fucking head off. “I am not suggesting we risk everything to save Ember. Do you truly believe she is all they wanted?”
“Ailis was here to punish you,” Thorish spits back. “For locking her in the Veil. And now she has unleashed the ancients upon our world!”
“Ailis may have organized them,” Bea replies. “But she would not have had the power to free them.”
I nod in agreement.
“Then who the bloody hell does?” Thorish demands.
“The Veil, you eejit,” Bea snaps. “When the Veil re-opened, the magic disbursement was harsh enough to tear a hole.”
“Multiple holes,” I remind her. “Somehow, they must have found their way through. Though, from what I understand, they were imprisoned.”
“The how no longer matters,” Bea says. “They’re here, and if the stories hold any merit, they are going to tear Faerie apart.”
