Chapter Sixty-Nine
Cadence
Riordan didn’t hesitate, throwing himself back into the fray with abandon. I sprinted after him, the clash of weapons and the cries of combat crashing against my senses in a dizzying storm.
Blood, bodies, and magic surrounded me, blending into a single violent blur as I drove forward, carving a path toward the center of the chaos.
A mountain of a man lunged for me, his eyes wide with rage.
I spun, catching his blade as sparks snapped through the air.
Power coiled in my muscles, and with a swift twist, I slammed my elbow into his ribcage.
He wheezed, stumbling back, and I used the moment to my advantage.
I darted forward, gripping his forearm and sending a sudden, sharp burst of magic through him.
Not my mother’s magic, but my father’s.
The man in front of me withered and decayed right before my eyes, as my power sucked his life force from his body. It was over quickly, but recalling the agony that ravaged him made me shiver.
Grating steel drew my attention, and another soldier barreled toward me. He raised his sword high and let out an almighty roar as he lunged. I stepped to the side just as his blade came down, exactly as Eamon had taught me.
Guilt tightened my chest at the thought of my fallen guard, but I didn’t have time to indulge my grief.
First, I had to survive.
The weight behind his swing overextended him, and I drove my knee into his gut. When he doubled over, I brought the tip of my dagger down against the back of his neck, severing his spinal cord before he crumpled to the floor, unmoving.
Blood coated my hands, and sweat beaded my brow as I fought to catch my breath. But another Wraith Borne came at me immediately. There was no pause, no mercy, just the endless rhythm of bloodshed.
And I matched it, move for move.
My magic unfurled beneath my skin, racing along my arms in sharp, heated bursts.
It begged to be released, to tear through any threat that stood in my path.
I let it flood my veins, a surge of strength rising from my core.
I dodged the first strike, planting my hand over the hilt of her blade and sending a pulse of my power down through my palm.
But my skin wasn’t touching hers, and my magic fell away.
Until it didn’t.
Shadows shot forward from my fingertips, coiling around the woman’s wrist as my own magic surged forth, dancing along the inky tendrils, bridging the gap.
Her gaze locked with mine, and her eyes widened in horror before sinking into her skull.
Her face grew gaunt as her skin tightened, and her body contorted, twisting and snapping with each jerky movement.
When it was over, all that remained was a shriveled husk of the woman who had sought to claim my life.
I stumbled back as I peered down at my hands. The shadows had retreated, but I could still feel the thrum of magic vibrating just beneath my skin.
Ryker’s magic.
A scream tore through the room, harsh but unmistakable, drawing me out of my whirling thoughts.
I spun around, searching for its source.
Unease crept down my spine like hundreds of tiny spiders, causing me to shudder. My pulse spiked, and adrenaline flared like fire in my lungs. Then I caught sight of him.
Riordan.
Two of my father’s men were holding him back while he struggled against their grip. My father met my gaze, sinister and triumphant.
“Riordan!” Ryker sprinted across the chamber toward his brother.
His shadows cut through the room like ribbons of night, swallowing every threat in his way. But a soldier intercepted him, appearing out of nowhere as he dragged a blade across his throat. Ryker dropped to the floor, and my heart ceased beating.
“Ryker!”
Callum screamed my name, but I couldn’t take my eyes off my mate as he lay unmoving in a pool of his blood.
Rough hands grabbed my arms, and I moved without thinking.
Twisting, I clutched my attacker’s arm and drove my dagger into the joint.
Blood erupted from the site, and he cried out as his sword clattered to the floor.
Pulling my knife free, I plunged it into his gut, slashing upward.
He sucked in a sharp breath, staggered back, and collided with the marble, dead.
The sound of my ragged breathing echoed around me as my gaze fell to Ryker once more.
He groaned, his hand clutching his throat as he pushed himself to his knees, and then to his feet.
The second our eyes met, relief crashed over me so hard it stole my breath.
He gave me a curt nod, and I returned the gesture before shifting my gaze to Riordan.
My father raised his hands to his face, and Riordan shrieked again, this time in agony. I pulled my magic around me, frantically searching for the thread that belonged to Ryker, but I couldn’t find it.
“Come on, come on.”
Another scream reached my ears, and I closed my eyes, releasing a controlled breath. I followed the pull of my magic, letting it silence the noise and turmoil surrounding me.
Then I found it.
The connection pulled tight, dark and burning as I seized it. I pushed everything I had into the magical tether until I could no longer tell where Ryker’s power began, and mine ended.
They flowed in perfect harmony, my light with his darkness, just as fate intended.
Shadows snaked along my arms, glittering with tiny golden flecks as they danced and writhed across my skin. My limbs trembled, and I clenched my teeth, fighting to stay steady beneath the crushing weight of the power I wielded.
With one shaky exhale, I let go.
Inky, golden tendrils tore across the room, lashing at the men holding Riordan. Their fingers warped, forcing them to release him as they fought against the magic seeping under their flesh.
Bones popped against gaunt, shriveled skin, and their lips were pulled into a tight line. Limbs contorted, and their bodies crashed to the floor as my magic drained every ounce of life from them.
When it was over, silence swallowed the chamber, both sides staring in stunned disbelief at the aftermath of what I had unleashed.
My gaze locked with my father’s, and he stared back at me, studying me with renewed interest.
But he knew better than to believe he could ever control me. “Kill her.”
The Wraith Borne moved as one.
My magic snapped forward, ripping through the hall as the screams of the enemy filled my ears. Sweat and blood clung to me, and exhaustion pulled at my senses, but I didn’t stop.
The Wraith Borne withered to nothing, their bodies crumbling like dust the moment they met the unforgiving marble lining the floor.
My gaze returned to my father. Even as his body betrayed him — his limbs twisting and writhing as my magic devoured him — he smiled.
Not cruel, or victorious, but pride.
He’d turned me into a monster, and he was proud.
In his final moments, he was content, and I’d never hated him more.