Chapter Twenty-Eight
Rion hadn’t told anyone he was traveling south rather than north. They didn’t need to know. Not until he’d finished. They’d hear the news, and if Alec wanted to confront him about it, then he could seek him out along the coastline. He wasn’t asking for permission. Not for this.
Rion paused at inns along the way, throwing coins at the innkeepers and warning them that if they valued their lives, they’d keep their mouths shut.
No one dared to confront him.
Days later, he stood outside Whiteridge’s gates. He walked the same road, saw the same guards. Only this time, Rion wasn’t entering their city with the intent to be civil. This time, he’d come to raze it to the ground.
The guards charged, their magic ripping from the ground. Rion didn’t change his pace, he merely raised one hand and crumbled the ground beneath their feet before wrapping it around their torsos. They screamed and their fear burned his nostrils. Growling, Rion threw them into those familiar white pillars, cracking the thick marble columns all the way to their tip.
Their hearts still beat. He could stop them. Kill them. But he left them there instead. He had another target in mind.
Foley. The one who’d been working with Selina. Who’d planned Rion’s demise from the first moment he’d stepped into the city. Or likely before.
Rion prowled the streets, tearing up the cobble stone as he went, dismantling the road and vendors stands. The civilians screamed and covered their heads, fleeing. A few tried to fight, some who felt they had something to prove.
Rion shoved earth down their throats and left them to choke on it.
Warriors wearing the city’s sigil appeared in the road before him, all standing shoulder to shoulder, their magic and weapons out as they waited for his approach. The palace stood just behind them, sparkling in the summer sun. Heat rose up from the cobblestones, giving the large yard a hazy look.
It was the gemstone of the city. A beacon of hope for all who dwelled here and for those who hoped for a different life under a different monarch. It had stood for centuries as an impenetrable fortress.
Shame that it would all be nothing more than rubble come nightfall.
The guards charged and Rion danced around their movements. He didn’t bother with his knives, not when the warriors threw their own. He formed a wall of earth around his body and their blades sank deep. Rion exploded his magic and sent those blades right back to their owners. Some blocked the strike. Others didn’t.
They fell one at a time. He twisted around their bodies, breaking arms, crushing legs. When he finally drew his sword, heads hit the ground one after another. He wasn’t in the mood to play with them. Not today.
The road cleared and Rion continued prowling toward the door, hoping Foley sat just inside, screaming demands for his warriors to put a stop to Rion’s advances. He smirked at the thought. He wanted Foley afraid, if only to savor it before his end.
Rion stepped one foot inside the palace and the entire room collapsed around him. He caught it, of course, then threw the heavy pieces away from his body.
Inside, more guards stood at the ready. But they weren’t as confident as the first group. Their legs and bodies were shaking, their weapons trembling in their grasp.
“Where is he?”
They lunged and Rion cut them down. Blood coated the once pristine floor, the statues that depicted the Fairy Folk and the gods. Some Fae tried shifting into their animal forms, hoping to surprise him from behind.
Rion crushed their smaller bodies with little effort.
A broken wing sat to his left, poking up at an awkward angle. A shattered jaw sagged from a wolf to his left and the creature whined before shifting back into his Fae form. He gripped the loose bones, tears of pain spilling down his face.
Rion didn’t put him out of his misery, either. If he remained in the building, he’d be dead soon, anyway.
One male had fallen onto his backside and attempted to crawl away from Rion’s approach. Rion grabbed the male with his magic and yanked him forward. The male cried out and his teeth chattered.
“Where is he?” They all knew who he meant.
“I’m right here,” a familiar voice called. Rion’s gaze rose up to the second balcony. Several warriors flanked Foley, all wearing grim, angry expressions.
Rion threw the male and his head hit the floor with a sickening thud. He tore the marble from the floor, cracking it in all directions.
The male tsked . “No respect from the arts, I should have known a mongrel like you wouldn’t know how to cherish beautiful things.” Rion didn’t respond. “How did things turn out for your little girlfriend?”
“I killed her myself.”
Foley clicked his tongue and surveyed his nails. “Pity. She was such a pretty thing and was so confident in her plans. I had hoped to play with her a bit myself. I don’t suppose you got the chance?” He raised a brow as if in question. Rion still didn’t respond. The male huffed. “Well, I’m afraid we don’t have all day. Some of us have important meetings to—”
Rion launched himself to the second level at dizzying speeds. Foley’s words caught in his throat as Rion dug his fingers into his windpipe.
The warriors stationed to guard him tried to reach their employer to no avail.
Rion’s fingers dug deeper. Particles of earth held Foley’s hands at bay, just to ensure no more plants ended up beneath his skin. Tears ran down the male’s red face. It shifted to purple, then Rion crushed his windpipe. Rion stared at him for a long minute then dropped his corpse. He severed the male’s head for good measure.
Chaos and screaming surrounded him as the warriors beat against the wall he’d created.
Rion spit on Foley’s twisted face. “I don’t have time, either.”
There would be times to savor kills later. Right now, he was here to make a statement. To tell the world that he was to be feared. If they didn’t want to love them, then they’d know his name another way. They’d cower at his presence. Whisper that The Demon had arrived. None would dare to even speak his name.
The warriors were nothing. They were mere gnats attacking a bear. He shook them off, killed most, and let the smart ones flee.
Rion walked over cooling bodies and headed straight for the ballroom. His gaze roamed over the vast space before settling on the door to the basement.
He ventured down, taking an oil lantern with him.
Fae jumped to their feet at his approach. One male wet himself.
Rion snapped all three of their necks.
A slave stood in the corner, their clothes torn and tears staining their face. Rion rummaged through the dead Fae’s pockets with his magic and threw a key at the slave’s feet.
“Free yourself. Search the rooms and free the others, then get out of the city.”
The slave nodded and ran, not even bothering to cover himself. Rion ventured toward the back rooms where he found three more slaves. Two male, one female. He snapped the chains and told them the same. Free the others, then flee.
Rion’s gaze wandered over the office. Over the papers and records that would likely prove useful to Saoirse and Alec.
Then he decided he didn’t care. He took an oil lamp from the corner and shattered it across the desk. Flames spread, papers curled up, turning from brown to black. The oil dripped onto the floor and after a few moments, the wooden desk caught as well.
Rion backed out of the room, leaving the door open, then did the same to the next room and the next.
When he emerged back upstairs, there were slaves running toward the doors, shrieking at the bodies scattered across the floor.
Rion listened carefully. He heard the crackling flame below. Heard the screams outside.
He searched for heartbeats and ventured into one room at a time. He found a pair of children cowering in a closet. Children of the nobles, if their clothes were anything to go by.
He didn’t smile at them, but he wouldn’t be like the rest of the people in this gods-forsaken land. He wouldn’t kill a child just because of how they’d been born.
Rion broke the window, grabbed the shrieking children with his magic and carefully deposited them on the ground below.
Once he’d cleared the rooms, Rion returned to the ballroom. His magic crawled beneath the mosaic tile of the floor. It cracked, splintering and stretching from one wall to another.
Portraits fell from the walls, the frames cracking when they hit the ground. Statues toppled over, shattering against the ground. Rion grabbed the pillars that held everything up and ripped them away one at a time. The massive structure shuddered, cracked, then collapsed in on itself.
Rion shielded himself from the crumbling roof and yanked another pillar from its place. Then another, until everything began folding in on itself.
Then Rion walked out, pulling at the already fallen structure as if he were wading through water. He emerged to find two dozen Fae standing outside, their weapons drawn and magic out.
The wind shifted, carrying the dust away long enough that he could make out their faces.
Rion counted them one by one. “I will give you one chance to walk away.”
They tightened their hold on their weapons and charged.
Rion’s magic exploded. He didn’t hold back. He’d done that long enough. He was free to just be. To exist.
He’d thought freedom meant retreating to a secluded place in the country. He’d been wrong. Freedom was being able to walk wherever he pleased. To experience life the way everyone else did. Freedom had never tasted so good.
He wouldn’t walk the land fearing he was too much anymore. Too much for people. Too much for the gods themselves. They’d either accept him or fall at his feet. He’d carve out his own purpose even if he had to do it in blood.
Rion moved with their magic as if in a dance. An elegant symphony of blades and snapping bones. He pivoted on his feet, unleashing everything.
Music. It was music to his ears. Maybe he’d finally lost his mind. Something within him had certainly changed, snapped, shifted. Whatever it was, he liked it and the euphoria that followed.
Rion threw every blade on his person, sinking them deep into tender flesh. He never missed his mark.
By the time he was breathing hard, a smile covered his face.
The once perfect yard was bathed in blood and limbs and gasping Fae. He was coated in it too, the blood and gore.
The remaining warriors backed away, glancing at one another. Rion stepped forward and they all scrambled back. A strange silence settled over the area as he waited.
“That’s it?” he challenged. “You’re done?”
One male broke from the group and charged. Rion grabbed the male’s foot, severed the limb, then shot a spear of earth straight through the male’s chest.
The others stared in wide-eyed horror.
Rion tasted blood at the corner of his mouth. He didn’t remember the hit. Didn’t remember the reason for the slight cuts along his body either.
Another step forward and Rion growled between his teeth. “Run.” They gaped. Some stepped back. “Run,” Rion repeated. “And if you ever rise against the crown again, know that I’ll find you.”
Two turned and sprinted away, their arms flailing in an almost comedic manner. After a moment’s hesitation, the rest followed.
Rion turned back to the crumbling palace and crushed more sections, just to ensure it would never rise again. Then he turned to the city itself. To the residents gathering their families and loading anything they could carry onto horses and wagons.
It was next.
Rion slammed the door open to the nearest building. A female screamed and tears ran down her face as she curled further into the corner of the darkened room. A small bundle in her arms cried out and his heart froze.
Kill them , a voice whispered in the back of his mind. They’d do the same to you . Rion backed away, as if pulled from a drunken haze. The female shook with uncontrollable terror, clinging to that bundle as if she could protect it with her body.
He’d planned to tear the entire city to the ground. Each and every building. But if he did that . . . Rion glanced down at the child. An innocent being who had done nothing of consequence in the world. He thought about the life it would have. How it might not survive if the mother couldn’t provide adequate shelter. Or find food.
His resolve weakened.
“I’m sparing this place for you,” he said, then stormed away. Rion tore the gates apart as he left the city and started northward, back to his original assignment.
This would be his life now. Nothing more than one mission at a time.