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“They have the power of body and mind. They protect us, heal us, they know what it is like to survive cruelty, how it only makes us wiser, slier, and a tad trickier.”
The deadly shadows encircled some of the sea folk caught in the darkness. With a simple tilt to his head, Kase snapped their bodies. Rifters from the Alver folk killed more. Hypnotiks tormented their minds, holding them steady until Malin’s brighter mesmer coiled with her husband’s darkness. More than one fae jolted at the touch of her mesmer.
I hoped they forgot how to breathe and suffocated slowly.
“But my favorite,” Calista shouted, a grin on her lips.
Blood dripped from Davorin’s nose as he fought against the bands of our fate song. He was weary; the wounds on his skin were clearly draining him.
“My favorite part is when a queen with the gift of cunning—” She bowed her head in condescension. “Outwits a sod like you and brings his end with the most honorable lovers you’ll ever meet.”
Calista and I pulled apart.
Davorin let out a rough gasp, free of the bonds, and staggered to his feet. He gasped and spat blood.
Doubled over his knees, his eyes burned in dark hate. He pointed a finger at Calista. “Your head ismine.”
On his first step, the ground shifted again. A rocky ledge stretched through the blue flames, shifting into a vine and sod-coated bridge. A call from the land, not from Valen, but from a queen whose power spoke to the spirit of the kingdom.
Ari and Saga crossed Tor’s river of flames and onto our isolated bit of earth. Davorin’s chest heaved. He reached for Gunnar’s knife and curled his hand around the hilt in the same moment Ari drew the heirloom blade.
“You barely left me anything,” Ari said, glaring at Gunnar. He turned his fiery gaze on Davorin. “We never did finish what we started at the shore that day. I rather detest never finishing a fight.” Ari rolled the blade in his grip. “Shall we?”
Davorin lifted his knife, and gasped when the force of Ari’s strike nearly cracked the blade. A few swipes, a few jabs; the battle lord held his own against the Golden King. But loss of blood and a lack of his protections was taking its toll.
Ari swiped the point of his sword across Davorin’s middle. A deep, festering gash dug into his stomach. Davorin cried out and stumbled to one knee.
Blood stained his teeth as Ari closed the distance between them. The light, playful countenance of the Golden King shifted into something wretched and cruel. He swung the sword against Davorin’s shoulder.
The battle lord cried in pain, dropping his grip on his own blade.
“You threatened my daughter.” Ari slashed again, striking Davorin’s ribs. “One mistake.”
The wounds were scorched, gangrenous; they were infected the longer they festered on Davorin’s body. He shuddered, spitting blood out of his mouth. Ari didn’t slow.
He cut a gash on the lower half of Davorin’s back. “You tormented my wife.”
A stab through Davorin’s hip. The battle lord jolted and gasped, trying to draw in more air.
Ari left the blade pinned in Davorin’s body, gripped Davorin’s hair, and wrenched his head back. “Tormenting her, touching her,harmingher,” Ari snarled beside Davorin’s ear. “That was your greatest mistake.”
With more force than was needed, Ari dropped his grip on Davorin’s head. He ripped the sword from his back.
Davorin cursed and cried out. Ari dragged the bloodied tip across the soil and paused at his wife.
He kissed her quickly, then handed her the blade. “He’s yours, sweet menace. However you see fit. His end has always belonged to you.”
Saga gripped the hilt of the heirloom blade. The magic of it wouldn’t fester the same as it did for Ari, but it would kill well enough.
Davorin lifted his head. He held Saga’s gaze, even tried to sneer. It was hard to tell through all the blood.
“I feel nothing for you,” Saga said. “You are a pitiful creature who could’ve had it all, and you destroyed it. What a horrid life you have lived in your crusade of hatred. A crusade you could never win. For our brutality was even greater than yours. It went to the darkest pieces of our hearts. It burns for the ones we love.”
“Ah.” Davorin coughed. “But I did love you so well, little raven.”
Saga did not take his bait. She grinned with the same viciousness as her husband. “You were wholly disappointing. The only man who satisfies me in every way is Ari. He bests you by all accounts.” Saga leaned closer. “He always will, and I swear to you, your name will never cross my lips again.”
Davorin’s eyes darkened. He opened his mouth to spit more harsh words, but choked on a gasp when Saga slammed the point of the blade through the center of his throat.
