Chapter 14
Water rushes away with a blubbering heave, exposing the bony graveyard hidden beneath the lake—Rayne more than willing to retract from the carpet of remains.
I charge down the widening pathway, bones crumbling beneath my boots like starched twigs. Something that might disturb me were I not crushed beneath Rayne’s melody, trapped in a cave with hungry emotions desperate to munch my heart.
Tear my guts free.
Rip me limb from limb.
I wrestle them all with cold fists of rage. Simple when Kaan’s so terrifyingly close to being snuffed from this world. But it doesn’t stop the tears. Doesn’t ease the raw ache cleaving my chest wide open as the water continues to part. Like a piece of parchment tearing down the middle.
The larger side scrunches into a frothing ball that gathers at the tunnel’s mouth. A plug, capturing the anthe in its bulbous churn, preventing her from reaching him.
The anthe screams, her serrated pitch making the water bubble and spit. Making poor Rayne howl, a sound that impales me like a sword thrust between my ribs.
Creators, I can’t take this for long.
I risk a glance over my shoulder. See the others clinging to the steep shore that’s a lot taller now the water level has dropped ten feet.
Pyrok’s half on the pier. Kaan’s beneath, clinging to the frail prisoner by the scruff of his robe.
The prisoner slips, and Kaan’s entire body tenses with the effort to maintain his grip, heaving the male up toward the pier with an unmatched show of strength. Pyrok hauls him over the edge, relieving Kaan, who looks back over his shoulder.
Our stares clash.
A churn of ruddy fire swells to the surface of his panic-stricken eyes, reminding me of Rygun’s flame.
He starts descending.
I convey to him exactly what I think of that. A wide-eyed what the fuck are you doing?
His only response is stubborn determination. Like a dragon set on busting through mountains to save his kin.
I groan.
“Móalarugh, lurin-ah dé arahná vah—ourlah!” I force out, each word a painful lump dislodged from my too-tight throat.
The water behind me pulses, like a hiccup, then gathers into a wave. It floods back toward the pier, heaving into a massive whitewash wall that cages Kaan against the exit and leaves him only one way to go.
Out.
Pretty sure I hear him roar, but I ignore that, turning in time for the anthe to lash a limb forward, slitting it free in much the same way I like to gut folk. Rayne whimpers as water spews like innards, splashing around my legs.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I attempt to patch her up with my equally patchy dialect. “Laúgh eit ooin duh lóun … moorithin—” I pause, muddling over her term for hold. Or something with a similar meaning.
The water cage loses some of its shape, bulging, threatening to gush back into place and drown me.
My heart plummets.
I backstep, wishing I’d held on to that stone for just a little longer … then I wouldn’t be quite so incompetent.
I awkwardly adjust my tune—something that feels a lot like further splitting my frayed heartstrings—requesting that Rayne take some of the water at my back and feed it into the sphere around the anthe. And hopefully create a path for me to backstep toward the pier.
“Lúi-ahn url … nariliá la náh mi?”
Though the words come out choked, torn from somewhere deep and raw, Rayne immediately responds, rushing for the other side like she’s leaping into the open arms of a much-anticipated hug. Making the anthe’s cage bigger, giving the moon-sized creature more space to fill.
And bringing her uncomfortably close.
Sharp limbs scythe through the air just inches from my face as I scramble back through the graveyard of bones, each crunching step a fragile win. Certain I’m one popping skull away from losing concentration, becoming just another skeleton left without a soul to scream.
I could handle that, so long as Kaan makes it out that damn exit.
The beast thrusts her limbs back, membranes ballooning, propelling her forward. That fierce, pale beak pierces free of the water’s ruffled surface, opening to reveal a cavernous maw that looks like a doorway to … nothing.
She releases a terrible screech that makes me want to fold forward and clap my hands over my ears—somehow worse than a pissed-off Clode or heartbroken Rayne.
Truly.
Fucking.
Horrible.
Warmth leaks down the sides of my neck as I hasten my steps, singing louder, harder. Each word torn from a bleeding heart and lashed past trembling lips.
I always thought I’d die laughing. A maniacal screw you to the world that had so much potential, blown on power-hungry assholes. To think my last breath might be a morbid sob is a cruel twist of fate.
And something I desperately want to avoid.
Glancing back, I see I’ve managed to tear a hole in the wall of water large enough that the pier’s punching through, and not far behind me. Which would be great, except Kaan’s charging toward the end like an angry god, looking like he’s about to drop a knee and punch a hole in the world.
Not sure how helpful that would be right now, honestly. Though I’m also not sure how I’m going to climb onto the thing from all the way down here. I could call on Bulder, but chances are I’d crush us all by accident—
“RAEVE, WATCH OUT!”
I jerk back on instinct, but not fast enough.
A sharp limb whips forward and slits my cheekbone.
I glare at the assaulting anthe, feral determination uncoiling from somewhere beneath my diaphragm.
The bitch cut me.
Although she wounded me, all I can picture is that same honed tip gutting the warmhearted king who won’t take his gallant rescuing with a smile and a wave. He has a territory to consider. Folk who love him. I have a few blades, a bad attitude, and a bloodlusting itch that won’t piss off.
I snarl, lift my chin. The creature pushes her angular head further free of the water, reminding me of a Moltenmaw skull, but with a shorter beak. More hooked.
Kaan roars my name with renewed ferocity as the anthe dips her head, exposing me to the slow horizon of her wide-open eyes.
I should look away. That’s the wise and clever thing to do, given Utris’s warning about losing senses and whatnot.
But I’m not going to do that.
The bitch can have my ability to taste, smell, and hear. She can have my fucking eyes and obliterate every nerve ending until I’m numb to the core. I don’t need any of it … so long as Kaan’s safe.
“YOU—CAN’T—HAVE—HIM!”
My back hits the pier’s column, and our gazes collide. Like two worlds smashing together.
Splintering.
In those dark eyes, I see the end of everything, part of me tumbling like a star tossed through the vast black sky in The Shade. The rest of me stands strong, tethered to something bigger.
Stronger than me.
Swelling within like an avalanche pouring down a mountainside, time stretching into something almost tangible.
The anthe’s head ticks to the side. She stabs her sabered limbs into the columns around me, using their grip to tug farther from the water, and sniffs so close to my face the strings of my soul pull taut enough to fray.
You can’t have that, either.
I push my head closer and scream. Like a crossing of swords, reverberations shudder down my spine and into the soles of my feet. But the sound coming from me … it’s not warm. It’s blizzard cold and guttural, as though it just tore from the chest of some ancient, icy beast.
I’m distantly aware of something breaking behind me, like the world just crumbled at my back. Distantly aware of the hairs on my nape lifting; of Kaan’s robust scent engulfing me—a firm hug on a gloomy dae.
Strong hands slide down and wrap around my armpits. Take my weight.
Heave me up.
I don’t blink. Don’t quell my screaming attack, determined to masticate the anthe’s own soul if she tries to claim what’s mine.
I’m dragged over jagged chunks of stone, back against a broad chest that’s a roaring flame to the ice packed within my lungs and veins.
Kaan’s arms band around me with such might it’s like he believes I’m about to fall apart at the seams, dragging me over broken bits of the pier that was whole a few moments ago.
The anthe impales her limbs in the stone, using them as leverage to yank farther from Rayne’s grip, clambering up like a billowy huttlecrab migrating against the tide’s pull.
Some small, primal part of me wants to do the same. To battle the male holding me back and shove close to the beast again. Challenge her until she withers and retreats down the tunnel she came from.
Perhaps I do thrash a little, because Kaan presses his mouth to my ear, his grip crushing.
“That thing so much as touches you again, Moonbeam, and I will not rest until I sever every limb from her body,” he rasps, cutting me to the quick. “So either you come gently, or I push you aside and challenge her myself. Thoughts?”
My blood thaws, body loosening.
I give in to his retreating tug, dragged backward as I hold the anthe’s narrowed stare. Emitting a quiet promise to hack her into little bits and stuff her in a thousand boiling pots of water should she so much as look in Kaan’s direction.
She clambers over the broken pier with jerky motions, chasing our slow yet steady retreat, her tendriled body tethered to the water like a stretched umbilical cord—eyes watching.
Until we’re swallowed by the dragon-mouth exit.