Chapter 45
Chapter
Forty-Five
Titus
The steady sound of my horse’s hooves calms my heart; my eyes are narrow, lashes lower. Fingers clench the reins. Dirt flies into the air, mixed with the deep snorts my horse exhales. It all merges into a storm, provoking and preparing me for the battle.
The hardest battle isn’t winning the war; it’s returning home. Sitting down to eat with your friends and family, those emotions turn on. The smooth motion of your knife slicing into the steak evokes the memory of your sword’s deadly precision.
You learn that you have to split your soul in half. There are versions of yourself: a warrior, a man who has to sleep at night, a big brother. They all must coexist to survive.
One hundred feet away, the guards’ horses turn their ears. We’ve been spotted. They presume a defensive stance, then… oh yes, they know who I am, and what hour of the night this is. I watch with sick pleasure as their lips curl up.
It’s a warning to the future me. Never trust fully.
Adrian plotted all this as Galen sat back and over-drank.
Seventy feet away, they break formation, exposing Galen abruptly. His crown makes him an easy target. He spots me. The look of alarm gives way to annoyance. He must think I’m here because of Selene.
I am.
If it didn't spook the horses, I would cover my body in flames. “Now!” I roar.
I feel Ryker’s glee when his arms raise. He’s a conductor who commands a loud and powerful orchestra; only his instrument is the wind.
Galen’s annoyance turns to suspicion. Yes, he knows. He looks left, then right, but his guards are moving, guiding their horses away like feathers shot off a bird. Scattering until only the barren animal is left for the predator to pick and pull to shreds.
A fierce wind causes a panicked reaction in the horses; mine rears, but I trained my eyes on my target.
Wind barrels towards Galen with such force that you can see it.
Galen’s magic flares, spooking his horse.
The dirt boils, cracking open as vines start to shoot forth, but he’s too slow.
The wind slams into him, snapping the saplings in half.
His horse falls over, scurries wildly before it abandons him.
Everyone underestimates wind magic. Fire magic sounds intimidating, but fire takes time to burn defenses; seconds or minutes the enemy can use.
Wind tramples you, shakes your legs, and knocks your boots free from the ground. It’s sudden, and so stunning.
Ryker leaps from the saddle, swift as thunder breaking from a cloud, to ambush. His hands are lightning-fast, rising and striking with torrential downpours of gusts. Small shrubs rip free from the ground, stirring dirt. The start of a canvas of chaos.
There! Metal falls, smacking into grass. Galen’s crown! He lies stomach-down, hands reaching for his hair. His crown-less state causes his eyes to shift to his true predator, crawling free from the narrow slits.
He searches for the crown before his enemy. Adrian was right; that crown is a secret weapon.
Galen snarls, boots digging into the soil as he lunges on hands and knees like an untamed beast. His fingers shoot out, fighting the wind, reaching toward his weapon.
Ryker reels his hand back, preparing to backhand Galen with another blast.
I jump off my horse. “Run!” I order the loyal animal. I won’t see it slain in this battle.
Oranges, yellows, and deep ambers cover my vision. My flames consume me. The grass sizzles and catches flame under my boots. I charge towards Galen, my entire body a walking fiery silhouette. Just as Ryker’s wind touches the crown, picking it up to throw it further away.
My lips curl, but the smile drops. A vine becomes a lasso, seizing the crown. Galen bellows a war cry as he tugs it back.
Flames crash into it, embers pour down like rain around me. I target that single vine; it can change the outcome of tonight. Closer and closer the vine pulls the weapon back to its master.
More fire! More heat, hatred, and willpower! The vine twists into a tortured braid, curling and knotting. Desperately trying to obey Galen, but my fire is too intense. Snap! The vine breaks, and the crown hits the dirt. The wind drags it.
“This will be a fair fight!” I shout.
Galen’s raging eyes slice into me. He pushes to stand and has the audacity to wipe the dirt off his clothing. “Traitor!” he howls, eyes searching for his guards. “All of you! I will kill every single one of you. Your families, everyone who shares your blood, will suffer!”
“Those are the last words you choose to be remembered by!” Ryker shouts. “How poetic.”
The other soldiers give us a wide berth as they circle us, ensuring Galen can’t escape. He notes it, and instead of attacking, he tries to engage in conversation. “Who are you?” the king spits as he looks down his nose at my brother.
Ryker tilts his head; the moonlight makes his odd shade of hair appear ghostly. It’s an undying shade caught between life and death. Immortal.
“You don’t deserve to know my name.” Ryker silences his wind so abruptly that it causes a ringing in my ear.
A cool, eerie chill slips through my fire and clings to my skin.
“And the last thing I will tell you is that your name,” he arches a brow like a dagger, “will never be spoken again.” His grin is saccharine, full of malice.
He stomps his boot on the crown. Galen’s jaw clenches so tightly I’m almost certain he cracked a tooth. He cares so much about an object; I can see the pain and fear that it’s damaged.
“I let snakes into my garden,” Galen spits as he widens his stance, eyes quickly searching for an escape. He’s delusional.
“You were the snake!” I lower my flames so he can see me.
“You let birds of prey in. We watched you from above. Judged you. We found you guilty, slippery, and slimy. You tricked so many, Galen; for snakes are feared for their bite—your words were cruel and sweet. You forgot predators with limbs, arms,” I cover mine in fire, “legs, hands that are used to holding a sword—more than your daily fuck—those predators are the real ones. Now we will cut your head from your body so you can never strike again.”
He raises his two hands, shuddering like he’s lifting a mountain. The ground quakes. Boom! Dirt and chunks of grass assault me. Ryker tries to use his wind as a shield.
I stumble back as vines erupt from the earth, cracking and splitting it open. Something blocks out the stars. Vines, a wall, no, a cage of them. He’s trapping himself; he can’t run, so this is the option he picked instead of fighting like a man.
Ryker looks toward me. “This is my fight now,” I warn him.
He nods and steps back as I approach the cage.
“You could have died like a man. You picked the path of a coward. Hiding!” I shout as I step forward, shaping my fire into a sword.
Reaching out, I touch a larger branch; it’s warm, thick, and waxy. Fresh.
My fire will need time to spread. My exhale coats a branch in fire; flames search for an opening through which the heat can seep in. There. Got you!
“I gave you everything!” Galen shouts from inside.
I circle the cage, inspecting it. “You trapped yourself; you’ll die in fire and smoke unless you come out and fight me. Sword to sword, like a man.”
He laughs, then, like a predictable snake, he strikes.
I see the assault a second too late to form the time shield.
It’s not just a cage he built; it’s a weapon.
Thorns erupt, stretching out as far as a limb, reaching for a target.
I hiss as one stabs me in the thigh, halting my steps and trapping me.
I grunt as I push myself to the side, freeing my leg. I slap my palm to the wound. It’s deep, stabbing me like a dagger. Nostrils flare, lips curl as I push my healing magic into it. The bleeding slows, but the cut remains open.
I step back and roar as flames leave my body, spreading faster and faster until his cage is covered.
Come on, you coward.
He forces us to wait until a large section of it crumbles in and a path is clear. In the center, Galen stands, surrounded by smoke, framed by flames. He smirks, with arrogant eyes, at the black roses he holds in his hands.
That’s when I notice it. The ground is covered with black roses.
“Sword to sword,” Galen murmurs. He must not have much magic left. I used a lot, but I had my mate’s blood to fuel it. I could easily last fifteen more minutes.
Without his crown, he’s used every last drop he had.
“I don’t obey your orders now, Galen.”
“Tell me, Titus,” he caresses the rose with more admiration than I thought his eyes could possess.
“Did Selene put you up to this, twist your mind, promise you love in exchange for my death? She’s just like her sister; you think it’s just a fuck, but they don’t just take your body, they screw with your mind. ”
He doesn’t let me answer as he begins to pluck off each rose petal. His forehead shines with sweat as the rest of his cage burns down.
“Selene will betray you. In the end, she will pick herself.” Galen sounds like a wounded lover who is clinging to life and lost dreams. Broken. Accepting. “And it will kill you. This will all be for nothing.”
He holds the stem tightly, eyeing the cluster of seeds once hidden, now free. In a violent gesture, he rips out the seeds, tossing them in the air. If he thinks his memory will survive and grow like those seeds, he’s wrong.
I’ll find every seed, every flower, and burn it from this world. All for my mate; never again will her eyes look into dark and thorny petals.
“She thinks she won, but I warned her. This is the long game. She has no idea how it’s played. In order to survive, you can only care about yourself. It will kill her.” He laughs. “But I don’t think it will kill you, Titus. I think you’ll survive and be forced to suffer.”