Chapter 61 For Her
FOR HER
THAREN
Thunder cracked overhead as Tharen ran in the night.
Rain covered him in sheets. It soothed the burn of his muscles, the cuts on his flesh.
Luella’s fear was so sharp that he’d nearly faltered in his fight with an Umbra. At the last moment, his grip on his swords had loosened, and the Umbra had charged. Tharen had been shoved against a rock, the back of his skull cracking against it.
He gritted his teeth, feeling pain travel up the back of his head as he did.
Vulnerable, Graves had left with Soro for the prison island to stand guard, cursing as Tharen forced him to go.
Tharen couldn’t get out of his head how Graves had looked when he’d left—his pale, sweat-soaked skin, the red, weeping gash.
Tharen would have to tend to it later—after they won this battle and had Luella safe.
Tharen pumped his arms as he ran. Water splashed up on him as the soles of his boots sank into puddles.
Luella. Bastian’s words came through their link. She’s in trouble.
Tharen didn’t respond. He knew. They all did.
She needed them.
They were fools for thinking she’d be safer tucked away in the darkness than right by their side.
Umbra came for him. Tharen didn’t stop running as he slashed their chests with his blades, blood spraying on the muddy ground. Bodies were left in his wake.
Their number dwindled. But all it took was one to turn the tide back in their favor.
Tharen growled as he ran right to the rocky cliff of the island he was on.
"Fuck!" he roared into the night. The sound was swallowed by the rain—Luella’s?
He stared at the steep drop. He ran a hand through his hair, fingers catching on the matted clumps of gore. Even the rain couldn’t wash away all the blood on him. It was fucking buried deep inside him, an intrinsic part of him.
A roar cut through the sound of the rain, echoed by jagged bolts of lightning. In the distance, a tree sparked as the lightning hit it.
The trees—
Tharen ran.
He hoisted himself up a tree, his blades at his back, leaving his hands free.
A scream filled the air.
He looked behind him. An Umbra cut through the rain and trees, a bloody sword in one hand; the other was a stump, blood and sinew hanging from where the limb used to be.
As fire crackled over the tips of his one remaining hand and raced up the bloodied blade, Tharen realized this was an Ignis fae.
He curled his lip—couldn’t leave the Umbra alive. Fuck it.
The Umbra swung at Tharen’s ankles. He kicked out with his boot, feeling it connect with the Umbra’s face. Something cracked.
"You will never win," the Umbra hissed.
Fire scorched Tharen’s pants legs. He kicked again. He couldn’t reach his swords, godsdammit!
"Says the villain’s bitch. How does it feel—to be fucking used like a puppet?" Each word Tharen said was punctuated by a kick.
The Umbra roared. The sound was unnatural.
Like hundreds of voices were hidden in his vocal cords.
The blade arced down. Tharen clung to the tree, lifting his legs in a sharp move and bringing them up.
The blade fell into the bark, narrowly missing his legs.
The Umbra tugged. It didn’t come free. Stuck.
Tharen laughed.
Fire sparked on the tree bark, burning the soles of Tharen’s boots. He shifted his weight until he clung to the tree with one arm. He grabbed his sword—only needed one—then twisted, swiping down until the curved blade of his sword cut right through the Umbra’s skull.
The Umbra stared, shadowed eyes wide. His mouth opened and closed. Tharen yanked the sword free, blood spilling from his cracked, split-open head.
"I am only one—of many," the Umbra managed to say just before he fell over.
Tharen spat on the dead body. "And now you’re nothing."
He wiped the bloodied blade on the bark, hooked it on his back, then climbed.
Rain quenched the fire on the tree. Luella was saving him, in a way; though, he’d never tell her that.
The swinging bridges groaned as he thundered over them, dust and leaves falling as he kicked them up from their rest.
He couldn’t see well in the treetops. He followed only the feel of Luella in his soul—that fractured bond that felt like everything he should never have and everything he may want.
Finally, he broke through the treetops and came to a stuttering halt as the trees gave way to another cliff’s edge. The bridge stopped, slats broken, railing brittle; it turned to dust at his touch.
He stared below. The ground was far. A fall from this height would crush every bone in his body.
He turned, finding the other side much the same, except instead of grass and rocks, it was the sea.
A thick branch wavered in the wind, jutting over the water.
He didn’t think—he hooked his leg over the branch and crawled, until he stared down at the abyss of the dark water.
Rain slicked his grip. He slipped. Nails cracking.
Tharen took a deep breath.
Then jumped.
Rain and air swept around him, and he—
Fell into the water.
It was disorienting. It took him a moment to remember which way was up. He gagged, seizing as he tried to hold onto his breath and…
A thought hit him as lightning split the sky above the surface of the water, urging him. Pulling him from the dark maw that threatened to drown him.
He swallowed water, lungs screaming.
Up. Up.
Was this what it felt like for her—
When she nearly drowned in the lake?
Tharen broke free of the surface, a wave cresting over him and sending him spinning back down. He fought his way up, gulping down air.
In the distance, fire raged. A large shadow flew in the sky.
Vale.
Tharen inhaled a shaky breath, exhausted, as he began to swim.