Chapter 3 #2
The words rang in my ears. Nausea flooded my gut in a violent rush.
I knew he’d betrayed the bargain I’d struck with him, but no—I still hadn’t understood.
I’d thought releasing him would allow him to fight Tharnyx, to stop the Infection, to save us all.
I hadn’t realized he was the very barrier holding the Bone-Wrought back.
By freeing him, I had unbound the prison that held the Firstborn. All of them.
The monsters were loose in Elantis because of me.
My eyes squeezed shut. Hot tears slid from the corners, tracking down my temples into my hair.
“One last chance,” He said through gritted teeth, rubbing his chest absently. “Take what I’m offering, Eidra. It’s right there if you just reach up and take it.”
His magic made a slow, taunting sweep through my mind. My own stirred within its tomb, too weak to rise and fight back.
His clothing rustled as he rose. He looked down at me for a long moment, disgust limning his face. “Very well, Eidra. If you choose to be useless, so be it. At least you won't die alone. Your precious mate will join you soon enough.”
My eyes flew open as he turned toward Aedric.
“No…”
He bent, bracing his hands on his thighs as he peered into Aedric's vacant stare, his lip curling with undisguised loathing.
“There is so much—so much—I wanted to do to you,” he hissed through his teeth, like an asp spitting venom.
“I’ve dreamed of this moment for three hundred years, you snivelling, two-faced bastard.
I had such plans for your suffering. And yet…
” He glanced at me over his shoulder, his features hardening.
“Nothing will ever surpass the pain you inflicted in life. Lucky for you—my specialty is death.” His silver gaze flared. “Let’s make yours count, shall we?”
Aedric’s breath simply… stopped.
“No…!” The cry ripped from my throat.
Aedric’s face flushed almost at once, his chest hitching in shallow, useless jerks. His fingers spasmed.
Rìan watched him for a long, measured moment, his eyes still blazing. “I daresay you have something that belongs to me, Flamelord.”
Aedric’s lips parted, terrible staccato sounds forming in his throat as his body struggled to breathe. He was going to die beside me while I lay useless, limp, broken, unable to do anything but watch.
Pure panic detonated inside me.
“Aedric—Aedric—” His name was nothing more than a shredded whisper.
Rìan didn’t even look at me. His eyes flicked back and forth, unfocused, skimming something only he could see—rifling through Aedric’s mind.
“Where is he…” he murmured. “Where is he… where is he…” Each repetition sharpened, frustration crackling beneath the words.
Aedric’s lips were turning blue.
“Please,” I choked. “Please—stop—please— ”
He didn’t react. Didn’t even seem to register my voice.
And still I felt that cool leash of his magic present in my mind, holding back the pain, muting it just enough for me to stay conscious and witness everything. It slithered through me, invasive and cold, a tether I hated and needed in equal measure.
Aedric’s body convulsed.
“Please—please—” I sobbed.
“WHERE IS HE?” Rìan snapped, rage tearing through his voice. He seized Aedric’s shoulder and shoved him flat to the ground. Aedric’s head struck the earth with a sickening thud. His face—gods, his face—was purple now, his eyes bulging, veins standing out across his throat, his temples.
Something inside me broke. My magic, thinned and dim, lashed out wildly and seized upon the only thing it could still reach: Rìan’s presence inside my mind.
I grabbed onto it with everything I had left—and pulled.
Rìan stiffened. His concentration stuttered.
I pulled harder.
His magic flooded into me—ancient, furious, delicious—the moan escaping me uncontrollably.
I felt it all—swirling in my blood, forbidden, shattering, ecstatic.
A gasp tore from his chest as he felt it too, felt me taking him into myself, swallowing more and more of him.
He snarled, but his voice sounded distant beneath the rushing filling my ears.
I dragged him deeper.
And deeper.
And deeper.
A sudden flash in my mind—
A little boy—dark-haired, wide-eyed. Blood smeared down the side of his small face. Terrified. Familiar.
Familiar?
The image vanished before I could place him.
My pain evaporated.
Pleasure surged in its stead.
Power—his power—poured into me, filling every hollow space inside my bones. The world sharpened, colors brightening. My left side, burned to ruin moments ago, tingled pleasantly with the magic I greedily consumed.
Rìan ripped free of the connection, severing his magic—and Aedric sucked in a ragged breath beside me. Relief flooded me, fierce and dizzying; he was alive.
But almost instantly, that relief twisted, flaring into unbridled rage. Anger surged through me, hot and blinding, rising like a wave to smother the dark thrill I’d felt only a heartbeat before.
Rìan whirled on me, the pallor of his cheeks flushed, the silver of his eyes shining almost painfully bright. A thin ribbon of blood traced from one nostril.
“How predictable. Love—the most powerful motivator of all,” he mocked, his voice all silk and menace. “Feeling better, Eidra?”
He lunged at me, drawing a knife from his belt.
Faster—so much faster—I tore Aedric’s blade from its sheath and surged upright.
The strength in my limbs startled me, but I embraced it, stepping between Rìan and Aedric as I leveled the iron at him.
He stopped short, snarling as he recognized the dark metal.
We faced each other, chests heaving, waiting for the slightest shift.
Then I saw the blade in his hand.
My blade.
The bone knife my father had given me.
A howl of fury ripped through me at the sight, hot and vicious.
I held out my left hand—a demand for my knife. My breath caught.
My arm, burned to a crisp only moments before, was whole again. Smooth and unblemished, not even a scar remained. My skin shimmered faintly in the darkness, as though moonlight had been trapped beneath its surface.
His jaw tightened as his gaze slid over me, over my flawless skin. His nostrils flared.
“Give me back my knife.” My voice was shockingly steady.
He bared his teeth. “Come with me, Eidra, and perhaps I'll return it.”
“Never,” I snarled.
His eyes—normally an unearthly silver—dimmed. The glow ebbed out of them in seconds, leaving them shadowed beneath his brow. It was somehow more unnerving not to see where he was looking, though I could feel his stare through the dark, raising the hairs along the back of my neck with its intensity.
“We had a bargain, Eidra.” His voice was low and smooth, every word a threat.
Before I could react, a ring of fire burst into existence a stone’s throw away, its sudden brilliance searing through the night. The flare blinded me for a heartbeat, stars bursting across my vision.
Two figures stepped through the flames.
“Aedric!” Hamish’s deep, familiar voice boomed, and relief cracked through my chest like ice giving way.
I whirled back toward Rìan.
He was gone.
A shaky exhale tore from my lungs, my fury collapsing inside me.
“Here!” I called out.
I dropped to my knees beside Aedric. His eyes were closed, his body limp and frighteningly still. I pressed my fingers to his throat—
A pulse. Strong. Steady.
I folded over him, emotion crashing through me as I pressed my head to his chest and breathed in his familiar scent. Burning amber. Rain on stone. Smoke in the distance.
Hamish stepped into the clearing, Malec’s lithe form just behind him.
“Elowen—” Hamish stopped short when he saw me. His eyes widened in shock as he took in my healed body, the iron blade in my hand, and the faint glow still clinging to my skin.
“Rìan,” I managed to whisper. “Rìan was here.”
Malec froze, his eyes sweeping the tree line as if the Dark Prince might lunge out from the shadows. If Hamish felt any fear, he didn’t show it.
He stepped toward me and wrapped his large, battle-scarred hands around me, hauling me to my feet. His gaze raked over me, his brow carving deep lines of concern and confusion as he searched for wounds that no longer existed.
His eyes narrowed when they reached my shoulder, where the sleeve of my dress had burned away. With his thumb, he brushed at something on my skin—and his frown deepened.
I turned my head to see. For a heartbeat, I caught it too: a swirl of black ink, curling like a faint tendril of smoke. But it had to be a shadow—nothing more—because the moment Hamish leaned closer for a better look, it vanished completely.
He grunted, and Malec moved in immediately, lifting me into his arms with surprising ease.
For someone so slight, he was shockingly strong.
Hamish bent low and lifted Aedric over his shoulder, Aedric’s arms dangling limp down the length of his back.
He gave a curt nod, and Malec flicked a hand, conjuring another ring of fire to skeld.
Hamish clasped his forearm. I looped my arms weakly around Malec's neck and buried my face against him as we stepped toward the fire. I flinched as the flames rose around us, instinctive panic tearing through me. Fire had nearly killed me, and now it closed over my skin again. My muscles seized, bracing for agony that didn’t come.
Instead, it licked gently at our bodies—nothing like the violent inferno that had ripped me and Aedric from Solmire. This heat was soft, almost welcoming, as it pulled us through. I closed my eyes tightly, forcing deep breaths to steady myself.
Suddenly, something twisted deep in my stomach, right below my ribcage—where my magic usually curled up to sleep. A quick tug, sharp and sudden, like an animal jerking on the end of a snare. And then I felt it again—that faint whisper at the back of my mind.
A brush like fingers along the inside of my skull.
But it was gone before I could be sure.