CHAPTER 35
Zara
“ D o you really want everyone here to die?” the words were hissed in my ear, travelling on the wind, and I lifted my wand, sending a message back to him.
“The only ones who are going to die are you and your men.”
The scowl on Veron’s face filled me with pride.
I do so enjoy fucking with him.
When I’d been captured, it never took much to make him angry. His temper was volatile and explosive. After reading the tomes my mother left for me, I understood why.
Black magick tainted the soul of the user, causing the humanity to be leached from them little by little. By now, I imagined that there wasn’t an ounce left inside of Veron. He was a mindless evil beast that wanted its way, and me and my family were the only things standing between him and what he wanted.
When his eyes moved to Rudgar, I tried not to stiffen—to show my weakness—but I knew that with his curse on me, he would be able to sense the connection I had with my mate.
“I see you’re thinking of mating one of the animals,” he sneered, before looking back at me. “I’ll do you a favor and kill him first.”
I tried not to react—not to show how much the sudden rush of fear hit me like an anvil to the chest—but it was difficult. I didn’t bother to send another message, lifting my wand, an arc of magick flying through the air toward him. It was a purple rush of fury, aiming for his chest.
He lifted his staff to block it and it was as if that one attack was the bell that started the rest of the battle. The cries that left the rest of the warlocks were drowned out by the roars of the orcs as they charged.
My coven stayed close, their hands lifting in simultaneous movements that provided invisible shields for the orcs. Veron lifted his staff, a crash of lightning falling from the sky. I threw my wand up quickly but gasped, waving it in the direction of my coven, sending up a barrier between them and the blast.
It rocketed into the barrier, crashing into it with a loud noise that rang through the battlefield. My eyes narrowed at the male who was smiling with smug amusement back at me.
He’d aimed for them. The treacherous fucker had aimed for them instead of me.
The growl that left my chest would be considered animalistic by most people.
How. Dare. He.
“They’re next, you know,” the words were in the wind again, and he smirked at me as I heard his voice. “My men will need women too. After I’ve taken you, I’ll come for them. Without you, they won’t stand a chance. If you come with me willingly, I might let you convince me to leave them alone.”
He quirked a brow at me, lifting his staff as he sent another crashing lightning strike against the barrier protecting them.
“Or do you want me to continue?” his disembodied voice laughed in my ear.
I sucked in a breath, knowing he was goading me, aware that the fury rising in my body would only make my power more erratic.
Focus, sweetheart, my mother’s voice sounded in my ear, my memory of her crystal clear. Magick is emotion-based. The more out of control you are, the more it will be.
I counted to five in my head, as Veron sent crash after crash of lightning toward my coven. They glanced up, still chanting, their hands up and aiming toward the orcs they were protecting. But they trusted me, and for the first time in my life, I trusted myself . I wasn’t going to let him touch a hair on their heads.
That was when the sound of screams could be heard from the middle of the battlefield. I looked over in time to see warlock after warlock falling in front of my mini orc army. Rok and Dristan were at the front, leading the charge.
Dristan had a male lifted over his head, a feral grin on his face as he tossed him a dozen feet away, a battle cry leaving his chest. Rok made short work of slicing his axe through a male’s neck.
I winced, searching out Rudgar, making sure he was safe, but I shouldn’t have worried. He was right behind Dristan, his stance firm as he held a gun up with two hands, aiming for one warlock, shooting and then turning to another before the first had even fallen in a crumpled heap at their feet.
He’s glorious .
I struggled to pull my focus away from my gorgeous male, who was protecting me and his family. Krusk, Enka and Savla formed a line behind Rok, something I could tell that they’d practiced in the past. Their axes were taking on any warlocks who had slipped through the formation ahead.
Settled in the realization that everyone was safe, I looked at Veron instead, my admiration curdling into hatred.
If I could get rid of him, I would be able to end this and take my clan and coven back to safety. He was still aiming his magick at the other women, not looking at me, and I knew deep inside, with the kind of understanding that my mother would have called a knowing , that this wouldn’t be done until I killed him.
He would come back, again and again. And I was the only one who was going to be able to do it. I was going to avenge every witch in my lineage who had been taken and used by these monsters.
I sneered at Veron, and his gaze sharpened, focusing on me once more. He straightened, and I could tell that he realized I wasn’t going to play games anymore.
He glanced at the battlefield for a moment, and I watched with a barely concealed satisfaction as his jaw went hard.
His men are losing and he knows it.
“The smugger you look, Zara, the sweeter my victory,” his words hissed in my ear, but I ignored him, focusing on what I needed to do. I raised my wand, the barriers protecting the witches as well as the orcs getting stronger as magick poured from inside me.
They come first.
If he decided to attack them in retaliation, I was going to make sure they had the best shot of making it out of here. My breath was coming faster as the power inside of me swirled, becoming a huge storm that I didn’t know how to contain.
“You’re never going to hurt anyone ever again,” I muttered and Veron’s eyes widened.
He’d heard me. Good.
The wand was focusing my magick in a way that I’d never imagined. I lifted my hands, compressing the swirling purple into a ball before blasting it forward into the shield that Veron had erected around himself.
The selfish bastard hadn’t bothered protecting his men, only himself. It’s what I should have come to expect from him.
His yellow magick was visible for only a moment, and I saw the sharp crack down the side. My lips curled as he drew back, swallowing hard.
I’m aiming for you, asshole.
That didn’t stop him from retaliating. He sent a powerful surge of magick at me and it hit my own hastily erected barrier, cracking it down the middle as well. I was gathering my own, when he sent another two in quick succession.
The first did its job on breaking my protection spell, and the second hit me in the stomach, sending me to my knees, heaving out everything I’d eaten that day. Shuddering, my gaze rose to look at his smirking form.
“Not so powerful, then,” he laughed, the sound loud in my ears.
I pushed aside the reckless anger that wanted me to throw everything I had at him. Instead, I gathered my strength, standing and not letting him rattle me. Raising my hands, I watched as the winds picked up, battering against his protection spell. His eyes darted, wondering what I was doing, but he shoved his staff out, blasting another spell toward me.
It was everything I could do to not scream, diving out of the way, but getting hit with another sucker-punch blast he sent in quick succession. I dropped to my knees again, but kept my hands out toward him, working the magick that I knew would surround him the way I needed it to.
The glint of metal made me lose my focus for a moment, watching as he pulled a blade with his free hand. He slid it across his forearm, his eyes swirling with a darkness that had my stomach clenching with fear.
Blood magick.
It wasn’t until he thrust out his second hand, aiming the spell that I hadn’t realized he’d had prepared, that a gasp left my lips.
I’m sorry, Rudgar, my love. In the end, I wasn’t strong enough.