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They came and came and came.
Leap. Sink in my fangs. Kill.
There was no time to retch at the terrible taste of that black bile coating my throat.
No time—only time to kill.
Kill, kill, kill.
My mate was on the other side of the clearing. I could feel her fighting, sense the distance. Close enough that I could reach her in two bounds. Close enough, I could protect her.
Protect.
Protect my mate.
Kill.
59
VEYKA
Lyrena could barely stand. Her leg was a mangled mess I couldn’t bring myself to look at. I fought with her at my back, Osheen on her other side. But even clinging to a tree, my brave golden knight fought on.
Slash, thrust, deflect.
She might not wield Excalibur, but her sword seemed pretty damn magical to me. Especially once she sent a wave of flames down the blade.
Her burning blade lit the clearing.
Worse.
So much worse than I’d realized.
The nightwalkers wereeverywhere. How had they—
I slashed with my knives. Ancestors damn it—the knives were all wrong. They let them in too close.
I narrowly dodged the gaping maw of one of the monsters. I shoved the daggers back into the scabbards, pressed my back hard into the tree behind me, and used the force to kick away the two advancing nightwalkers.
It wasn’t much time.
But it was enough to draw Excalibur.
The hilt was impossibly warm in my hands.
Arthur?
I had no time to wonder—three more nightwalkers lunged for me. They couldn’t make me bleed. I knew that now. But they could break bones. Worse, they could hold me down until I was useless to my friends.
Lyrena would not last long against this pack, even with her flaming sword.
One head rolled.Two. Three.
Counting soothed me.
Excalibur was heavy; much heavier than my daggers or my curved rapiers. But it sliced through the nightwalkers as if they were the softest custard.
Eight. Nine. Ten.
