The Falconer (The Falconer #1)

Chapter 39

39

A cu? si?th leaps at me, claws extended and fangs bared. I throw myself into a desperate roll, hitting the wet earth hard just as the creature sails over me. My blades flash in unison, twin points slicing deep into the cu? si?th’s vulnerable underbelly.

I regain my feet to dodge another fae’s swinging blade. There’s no time to confirm kills or even catch my breath. The frantic battle rhythm allows no room for hesitation. I flow from one adversary to the next, meeting teeth and claws and curved blades with my own weapons. Striking, feinting, and whirling away in a never-ending weave of attack and defend.

All around me, the fae press in with single-minded fury, eyes glowing molten. Their horses trample the bloodied ground, hooves throwing up clots of wet earth. My blades clash against fae swords over and over until my hands and arms grow leaden from the ceaseless impacts.

A strong hand clasps my shoulder. I whirl on instinct, one gore-slick blade already slashing toward my unknown assailant’s throat.

Kiaran twists aside in time. “Just me, Kameron,” he says smoothly.

I lower my weapon. “Announce yourself before grabbing a woman during battle next time. Unless you’d like to make an introduction between your neck and my blade.”

Kiaran’s mouth twitches. “Duly noted.”

I take the chance to catch my breath, muscles burning with exertion. The din of violence fills the air—screams and the shriek of metal, the sharp sound of blades finding purchase. The smells of blood and earth and ozone from deadly power lie heavy all around.

My heart pounds in a frantic cadence, echoing the song of battle pounding in my veins. Kiaran is steady at my back, our bodies angled together. I lean into him instinctively, needing that contact. His free hand comes to rest lightly on my hip in silent understanding. Just that subtle touch anchors me amidst the chaos. Reminds me I’m not alone.

“Almost like our hunts,” I say.

A soft noise of amusement behind me. “Fighting endless hordes of fae is nothing like our hunts.”

I stab a fae and dart a grin over my shoulder. “Don’t pretend stabbing fae in my scintillating company isn’t the highlight of your existence.”

“The crushing burden of enduring your presence is indeed immense,” he says.

My answering laugh cuts off as abruptly as it began. Because in this stolen moment between heartbeats, I want to turn and tell Kiaran everything I’ve left unsaid between us. That I wish we’d had more time together. That I regret leaving so many things unspoken.

I meet his gaze, letting my eyes speak what words can’t. Kiaran’s guarded expression softens by the barest degree, but I see understanding reflected there. He knows what I can’t say aloud. Not here, surrounded by violence and duty.

Kiaran gives me a single short nod. Message received.

Then he turns away, lethal focus back in place as he slides both curved blades free of their sheaths. The elegant tattooed vines wrapping his arms seem to shift and move as he readies himself for the next deadly dance.

He’s mine in all ways that matter.

I turn and press my back against Kiaran’s, too aware of each point where we touch. As one, we hurl ourselves against the enemies arrayed before us. I let instinct take over, meeting the fae’s advance with savage strikes of my own. My blades plunge and whirl. The scream of metal accompanies every ringing blow.

The air surrounding us grows dense with gathering power, alive with deadly potential. Our combined strength resonates outward through blade and fist and fury. Raw magic slices into my cells, foreign yet familiar all at once. I embrace the brilliant rush of energy flooding my limbs instead of shrinking away.

Together, Kiaran and I are unstoppable, a storm given form.

I unleash daggers from my wrist gauntlets between dodging vicious swings of fae blades. Bodies fall in my wake. I twist and vault, evading aside from lethal blows, slamming knees and boots into any opening. Euphoria thrums higher in my veins. I’m alive here in these fervid moments of slaughter—violent, victorious, blazing with borrowed power.

A sudden bolt strikes near my left shoulder like lightning. The discharge burns through my armour and into vulnerable flesh below, wringing an agonised cry from my throat. But before the injury can drop me to my knees, Kiaran’s healing power surges through our bond.

Soothing energy flows into the seared wound, staunching the worst damage. The pain fades beneath that gentle tide. I draw a ragged breath, clinging to the remnants of Kiaran’s power still thrumming inside me. Our shared abilities crest and wane now in perfect sync.

A new adversary challenges me, flinging out one gauntleted hand. Gnarled vines burst from the blood-soaked earth at his feet to ensnare me fast. But I’m ready. I rally Kiaran’s magic again to my will, focusing it into a formidable blade. With an enraged cry, I slash downward. The vines disintegrate to ash beneath that edge of light.

I leap forward and open the fae’s throat in one savage motion. Blood splashes across the delicate silvery channels lining my armour, mingling with the metal.

The heady rush of each fae death surges through my veins. I crave more of that intoxicating power. My blades continue their lethal dance—plunging through sinew, biting into bone. I am vicious and untiring, a woman possessed.

The battle passes in a dizzying blur of blows given and received. Fury obliterates all else until nothing remains but this brutal violence playing out in the blood-soaked field. My knives find throats and hearts and bellies. Fae screams, and bitter iron tang saturates the air.

How many have I killed now? I’ve lost count of the bodies fallen beneath my blades. Their broken forms litter the muddy ground. My hands are wet, and my armour is stained.

“ Kameron .”

Kiaran’s voice cuts through the haze of violence. He’s suddenly behind me, grip crushing on my upper arms as he whirls me to face him. I meet his stare, pulse racing and thoughts in tatters.

“They’re pulling back to regroup,” Kiaran says, voice steady. Calm. He removes the bag of seal components from his shoulder and presses it into my hands. “I can hold the rest off alone. Go and repair the seal.”

I shake my head slowly, struggling to comprehend his calm words through the vicious fog still choking rational thought. That primal part of me strains against his hold, bloodthirsty and half-feral. Unfinished.

Kiaran grasps my jaw firmly between his hands, the press of his palms anchoring me, forcing my drifting focus back to him. Back from that dark and seductive precipice.

“Go on, sweet lass. I have you.”

“What about you?” I force past the tightness in my raw throat.

Kiaran’s stoic expression softens by the barest degree. “I already told you I don’t say goodbyes.” He allows one hand to graze my cheek in farewell. “To you most of all. Now go.”

Before reason reasserts itself, I fist both hands in his tunic and drag his mouth to mine.

The kiss is desperate. Hungry. A confession written in lips and tongue. Kiaran makes a low sound, gripping my hips to haul me against him. We steal this one suspended moment together. No past or future. Just the slide of his mouth over mine. The solid press of his body against me. Real.

When we break apart, his jaw is feathered with tension, as if engraving every sensation into memory. As if bracing himself to watch me walk away one final time.

Kiaran sets his hands on my shoulders. Firm. He never looks away, even with chaos around us.

Always, we are two predators drinking each other in. Circling like wolves in a clearing.

“Go, Kameron.”

But I hesitate, torn. Wanting nothing more than to remain here and let the world burn down.

Kiaran exhales, almost too softly to hear. “Please. Don’t make me command you.”

That quiet entreaty undoes me. I take an unsteady step back, then another. Each footfall feels like walking off the edge of a cliff. But I force myself to turn and keep placing one foot in front of the other. Duty compels me, just as it compelled my mother and her mother before. Toward the path etched in my bones.