49. Wolf
Chapter 49
Wolf
T he air shifted. The wind warned us of the attackers minutes before I felt it in the ground—the low rumble of horses in the distance, the fluttering of wings miles away.
There was no room for fear here.
No room for hesitation.
I reached out to Huntyr through the bond, reached out to feel her emotions, but she felt no fear either—only a fierce, reassuring determination.
The only option here was to win. Win and survive. Win not only for us, but for every single person with a weapon drawn, ready to fight for our freedom. For our future.
They would never control us. They would never eradicate us.
Asmodeus thought he was gaining an inside man when he sacrificed my soul to Era, when he turned me to this half-vampyre, but he was wrong. He had no idea where my loyalties would lie after that betrayal. He had no idea I would finally find myself here, among these blood-sucking monsters.
They would find out how much of a monster I could be.
They would all find out.
I gripped my sword with steady hands.
Huntyr wasn’t far, but dammit if every single one of my instincts didn’t urge me to turn around and run after her.
She was a strong fighter. She spent her entire life learning to kill, after all.
But that was why she needed to protect the others. Rummy, the kids, the women—they were deep in the ruins, hiding in the bunker.
It was our job to keep them safe. It was our job not to let those evil, power-hungry bastards anywhere near the kingdom.
I looked to my right. Hundreds of vampyres—females and males both—lined the trees. They created a barricade of bodies, ready to rip apart anyone who dared enter, anyone who dared attack us.
Then, I looked to my left. My chest swelled even further as I saw the same thing—hundreds more vampyres with swords drawn and teeth barred, ready to protect this kingdom.
They weren’t going to lose it for a second time.
I wasn’t going to let that happen.
Anticipation thickened the air, but not fear. Nobody was afraid.
Fear came when you had something to lose. This? Us? We fought for a chance to live. A chance to build a home. A chance to build a kingdom.
We had no kingdom to lose, no home to savor, and that’s what made us dangerous.
I braced myself as the sound of men grew closer and closer. They weren’t even trying to conceal their approach—they were too big-headed. With the magic of the angels, they thought they were no match for us.
The first fae came into view ahead, sword raised and mouth open with a battle cry.
Chaos erupted in the valley.
V iolence was not new for me. I did not flinch away from the metal of a sharpened sword. I did not cower from the brute force of warriors, from the strong powers of angels.
I, too, grew up to fight. I, too, had a sharp sword.
And thanks to my father, I, too, had sharp teeth.
My vision blurred as I moved, maneuvering myself with little to no thought as I sliced down every opponent who charged us. My instincts took over with every slice of my weapon, with every body pummeled by my fist.
The army of fighters from The Golden City consisted of fae and angels both. They were strong, yes, but we were angry.
I kicked a body off my sword just before a large male charged from my right. Brutal hatred covered his features, and he ran at me sloppily, sword raised and body exposed.
My sword sliced through his flesh like butter.
Again and again, I cut down our enemies.
Again and again, they kept coming.
It wasn’t until I felt the first wave of magic that I paused, stepped back. This first wave, this was the distraction. This was to draw us out.
The powerful angels would be next, and they would not be fighting with mere weapons and fists.
They would be fighting with blood. With magic. With the air itself.
A wave of fire erupted on my right and split our line of defense in two. Heat followed immediately, adding to the already-thick air.
But the fighting did not stop. Our side stood strong, a wall against our attackers.
The hair on the back of my neck, though, rose.
I used my free hand to block an attack from my left side while I stood, waiting. Another vampyre sliced down my opponent for me while I turned my head toward the sky.
Wings.
Swooping straight down for us.
I had only seconds to brace myself before the sheer power of their violence rained upon us. I immediately got to work, aiming for the angels first.
They were hard to kill, I knew that more than anyone. While fae could be killed by any mortal wound, angels healed too quickly. They would need to be wounded fatally with no chance of healing themselves.
But that was easier said than done.
Too many of us were falling. Too many vampyres couldn’t take on the force of the angels.
Hells.
For the first time since the fighting began, panic whispered into my senses, but I shook my head and kept fighting. I kept pushing forward, kept aiming for the powerful ones. A few of our attackers started to slip past our line of defense, but I couldn’t turn back, couldn’t retreat. We had to hold our line steady; it would be the only damn way to protect the kingdom.
It wasn’t until I saw him that my sword stopped swinging, my muscles stopped fighting.
No, it wasn’t possible. It wasn’t?—
“Hello, son.” My father—my father who should have been dead—greeted me. Blood smeared on his face. He carried no sword. He didn’t need to. When he took a step toward me, my knees shook. “Surprised to see me?”