Chapter 42
Rage fueled my movements, my wings stretching wide as I glided across the training yard. I sensed Tislora flying somewhere behind me, but I didn’t bother to look.
All I knew was the unchecked fury that coursed through me. Shadows swirled around me, floating in the air like bats following their master.
I soared over the treetops, following the scent of blood. Both fae and human.
Warwick had hurt her. And I would destroy him for it.
When I landed hard, the ringing sound burrowed into my skull. I cried out, shaking my head, when Tislora grabbed my arm.
“I’ll stop it!” she said, her voice rising over the sound. “You go!”
I nodded once, taking off toward the smell of blood. The shrill sound of the forest’s magic continued to assault me, hammering against my skull and piercing my brain. Mother of Shade, it was unbearable.
Then, it stopped. Tislora’s handiwork, no doubt.
Vowing to thank her for it later, I quickened my pace, not bothering for stealth. It was far too late for that. My wings were still outstretched, lifting me in the air as I leapt off the occasional tree stump for a burst of speed.
I heard Sybelle’s scream. I had never heard her sound like that—terrified and angry. Helpless.
Black shadows spilled forth, engulfing the forest. A feral sound escaped me, a cross between a roar and a howl.
Their scent was almost upon me. I lurched upward, my wings carrying me, until I caught sight of two figures grappling on the ground. Warwick was on top of Sybelle, pinning her body to the forest floor.
A roar of fury burst from me as I slammed into Warwick. He shouted in surprise. My hands wrapped around his throat, my claws digging through flesh. His elbow caught my jaw, and he managed to kick me in the shin. But still I pressed, ready to remove his head entirely.
A streak of blue shot past me, and my head whipped up. Was someone else here with Warwick?
But when I looked around, nothing was there.
The distraction cost me. Something sharp pierced my side, and I hissed as hot blood gushed. Warwick had stabbed me. His hips jerked, and we rolled, but I never released his throat. He would lose consciousness soon, and then he would stop fighting.
Then, this would end.
“Varius!” Sybelle shrieked.
I managed to block Warwick just before he drove his dagger into my side again. But now, with only one hand on his throat, he was able to maneuver out of my grasp.
He rolled again, but I followed, baring my teeth.
Warwick had the gall to grin at me. “You’ll find I’m quite difficult to kill,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Just ask your assassin.”
I tilted my head at him, nostrils flaring. My shadows spilled along the forest floor, creeping toward him. If I could keep him talking, then my shadows could sneak up on him.
Once I blinded him with my darkness, he would be mine .
“How did you do it?” I asked. “How did you kill him?” Tavish had been one of my strongest and most agile soldiers. No one had bested him in combat before.
Warwick’s grin turned feral. “See if you can guess.”
My eyes roved over his figure once more, taking in the wounds still bleeding freely, likely from Sybelle’s dagger. A quick inhale told me there was even more blood that I couldn’t see.
He was wounded. So wounded, in fact, that he should have lost consciousness by now.
“Endurance,” I guessed. “That’s your fae gift. You can push through the pain of your injuries for longer than an ordinary fae.”
Warwick’s smile was mocking as he inclined his head. “Excellent observation, Shadow King.”
He was cocky and arrogant. I could use that to my advantage. My shadows continued coating the ground until the leaves and roots were swallowed up in the darkness.
I forced a solemn expression on my face. “Perhaps I cannot beat you.”
Warwick chuckled. “It’s too late for surrenders, Varius. You won’t be leaving this forest alive.” He jabbed a finger toward Sybelle, who was watching the exchange with wide, horrified eyes. “And neither is she.”
A roar burst from me, and I unleashed everything on him. Shadows exploded around us, thickening and coiling around Warwick.
“You think this changes anything?” he spat. “Your shadows don’t frighten me. I’m well acquainted with the darkness.”
“Not my darkness,” I growled, then flicked my fingers. Tendrils of smoke wrapped around his ankles and wrists, tying them together.
Warwick’s eyes bulged as he struggled against my shadows. But they held him tighter, cinching until he yelped in pain .
“You didn’t know I could do that, did you?” I cocked my head at him, giving him a savage grin. “Underestimating the Shadow King will be the last thing you ever do.”
I picked up the dagger he’d dropped and raised it to his throat.
“If you… kill me…” he choked out, still straining against my shadows. “You’ll never… break your… curse.”
I bared my teeth at him. “I’ll take my chances.” With a swift motion, I dragged the dagger across his throat once. Twice. Three times.
If ordinary injuries wouldn’t faze him, then I had to be sure he was good and dead.
Rivulets of black blood poured from his neck. With a third slice, his head fell from his body and dropped onto the forest floor with a sickening squelch.
“Let’s see you recover from that,” I hissed.
I was panting hard, my body still hot with fury. Slowly, my shadows released Warwick’s body and retreated back toward me. But they didn’t vanish completely. I was still too enraged for them to leave.
A small hand grasped mine, and I whirled with a snarl.
Sybelle kept her fingers wrapped around me, undeterred by my blind rage. “You’re hurt,” she whispered, gesturing to the wound in my side.
I stared at her. Thick red blood matted her shoulder, and the jagged teeth marks embedded in her flesh made me see red again.
“He bit you,” I seethed, my voice hoarse and rabid. I didn’t sound like myself at all.
“It will heal,” she assured me. “We need to get you to a healer. You’re losing too much blood.” She tugged on my arm, trying to drag me away.
Only then did I notice the fear and exhaustion in her eyes. How long she had fought with Warwick before my arrival, I did not know.
But she had fought.
“Sybelle.” My voice was gentler now but still raspy.
She turned to look up at me, eyes wide. Her hair was full of twigs and leaves, and her cloak was ripped in several places.
But Mother of Shade, she had never looked so beautiful to me. She was a warrior. A goddess.
My wife.
My arm encircled her waist, drawing her chest to mine. She was breathing just as heavily as I was, her hands coming to my chest, her pulse racing. She stared up at me, eyes wild and frenzied. The heat of battle still roared in my blood, blotting out all sense of reason and logic.
All I knew was this feral need coursing through me. I gazed down at Sybelle, waiting for her to object or push me away.
She didn’t. She stood on her toes and leaned up, her face angled toward mine.
I bent down, my mouth claiming hers. We were covered in dirt and blood and sweat, but I did not care.
She had almost died, and I refused to live another moment without tasting her.
My mouth opened, my tongue gliding along the seam of her lips.
She trembled in my grip, uttering a soft sound that I swallowed hungrily.
Her lips parted, and her tongue met mine in a clash of desire.
Hers was smaller and smoother than mine, and the taste of it, the friction as I licked her again and again, was enough to undo me completely.
Her fingers fisted my tunic, drawing me closer.
Her back arched as she met my fervent kisses with a desperation of her own, as if she were just as manic and hungry as I was.
She pulled away only to draw in a gasp before plunging back in.
Her lips moved faster and faster, devouring me as I devoured her.
Her tongue slid over my fangs, my incisors, but she did not recoil.
She did not shy away from them. If anything, her tongue and lips lingered as if she wanted to explore them further.
As if she wanted to claim them for her own.
I moaned into her mouth, wrapping my arms more tightly around her waist until my hips were aligned with hers. She writhed against me, sensing my hardness, and a soft sigh escaped her.
Mother of Shade, I could pin her to a tree and take her right here, injuries be damned.
Someone cleared their throat behind me, and Sybelle went rigid. She withdrew, fear spiking within her.
I tightened my grip on her, breathless from our kiss. “It’s just Tislora,” I murmured. I didn’t even have to turn around to check; I knew her scent.
This did not abate Sybelle’s terror. “Is she?—”
“She came with me. She stopped the forest’s magic from attacking… me.”
I’d been about to say us until I remembered my vow to Sybelle. Tislora did not know she was fae. I would not violate my wife’s trust. I needed her to understand that.
Sybelle was gazing up at me, her eyes shining. “You really need to get that stitched up.” She gestured to the bleeding wound in my side. It was dripping but not gushing, which was a good sign. I’d certainly had far worse injuries.
“I’ll be fine,” I assured her, then glanced over my shoulder at Tislora. “Are the woods clear?”
“Yes,” she said. “Warwick acted alone.” She eyed me, her expression a mixture of amusement and irritation. “I can’t hold off the magic here much longer. We should go.”
I nodded tersely, then turned back to Sybelle. She had knelt to the earth and grabbed something from the ground before shoving it into her cloak pocket. I watched as she glanced around the forest as if searching for something. Her hand went to the amber necklace at her throat.
“Sybelle? ”
She jumped, then looked at me with wide eyes. “Are—Are you safe?”
I frowned at her, not understanding her question. “Yes. We are both safe right now.” I gestured to her. “May I carry you?” I asked.
Sybelle exhaled, her expression oddly relieved. She nodded, dropping her gaze, a sudden blush blooming across her face. My movements were gentle as I gathered her against my chest, one arm braced under her legs. She gasped, arms flying around my neck, then stared at me in surprise.
“Did I hurt you?” I asked.
“No, no. It’s just… You made that look so easy.” She huffed a laugh.
I offered her a half smile. “It’s easy to hold you, dannahla .”
Her cheeks turned a darker shade of red. She drew a finger along my lip, pausing at my incisors as she dragged a fingertip over the sharpened edges.
I held perfectly still, jolts of awareness shooting through my body from that singular touch. Heat coiled low in my belly, and I had the insane desire to kiss her again.
But that was a bad idea. Not only because we were both injured but because it would lead nowhere. Thanks to the curse, it would be impossible for us to indulge these feelings. Whatever passed between us was temporary.
Nothing more.
I forced myself to look away from her heated gaze and faced forward. Behind me, my wings stretched wide, prepared to glide us out of these wretched woods.
“Hold on,” I warned her before I took off into the forest.