Chapter 61
Huntyr
Ihear the hooves of horses crashing down behind me, and the sound is enough to distract Tyla.
She glances up to see who approaches and I don’t hesitate. I don’t stop to think about who she is or what she means to me. I simply drive my fist into her stomach before slamming my daggers into the Velkai behind me.
Then I’m moving again, rolling sideways, knocking out the feet of those behind me and driving down life-ending blows to each.
He’s here.
The wind roars, a rage-filled sound, but the air around me is as warm as his embrace.
Without any conscious thought, my eyes snap to him, and I watch, completely enraptured, as he leads the charge towards me, our friends behind him.
But I can hardly see them. I can’t see anything but him.
Every broken piece of me suddenly stitches itself back together when our eyes meet, and I don’t feel a single ounce of pain anymore.
I can’t feel anything but the overwhelming awareness of him.
His gaze crests over me, assessing for injuries. I watch him take in the blood across my chest, the scratches and cuts up and down my arms. His lips curl back over his teeth as that expression shifts from concern to utter rage.
Derian and the others all shudder suddenly as they cross into the Wastelands, their faces contorting uncomfortably for the briefest of moments. Despite whatever odd sensation this land must have caused for them, they lurch into action, taking up the fight with precise efficiency.
With practice.
They’ve done this before.
I snap back to attention, regaining my sense of self and turning back to the Velkai, who still all seem to focus on me. Even as Taric, Ulna, Derian, and so many others unleash all forms of violence and magic upon them, they all struggle back to me.
“Why are you doing this?” I scream, turning back to my sister.
There’s no room left for hurt in me. No, that feeling left the second she sent an army of Velkai to kill me. Now, I’m pissed.
She stands from where she had been crouched, clutching her stomach after my blow. “I don’t want to!”
“They seem to be following your orders, Tyla. If you wanted to stop it, you could.”
“You don’t understand!” Her voice is shrill, cracking as she screams. “You can’t hear her like I can. She explained everything, Huntyr.”
“You have no idea who you’re fighting to free. You know nothing about the Mother.”
Tyla’s lip curls back, a snarl ripping out of her as her fingers curl like claws at her side. “No. You know nothing about my mother.”
I expect her to attack me.
I even brace myself for it, readying my muscles and weapons.
But it’s not me who she lurches towards.
Somehow, she senses the Fae coming up behind her, and she moves so impossibly fast.
It takes only a heartbeat.
Only a single gasp passes my lips.
“I will do whatever it takes to free my mother,” she promises.
Then she twists around to face him. Her hand clasps around Derian’s face with unnatural force. She opens her mouth, and my whole world tilts.
I watch as she begins draining everything he has.
His eyes dim.
And a panic stronger than I’ve ever felt before suddenly floods my senses.
It crawls through me until my body hardly feels like my own.
The sound of battle rages around us, but I can’t hear it.
There’s only that link between him and I, the one that is threatening to disappear with every bit she drains from him.
“Tyla, stop it!”
My heart clenches, and I run towards her, faster than I’ve ever moved. I wrap around her wrist and tug against her unbreakable grip. All of my strength pushes into my grasp, and I don’t care if her wrist shatters or my fingers break so long as I can pull her off of him.
He’s not even looking at me.
The storm is quieting. It’s fading the same way he is.
And I’m crying.
I don’t know when it started, but there’s a distinct difference between the rainwater on my face and the saltwater tears that now streak down my cheeks in angry stripes.
“Don’t,” Derian desperately chokes. There’s pressure against my thigh. His hand, pushing against me. “Run, Huntress. Go.”
No. I won’t go. I can’t. I can’t possibly leave him here. Not when it feels like leaving half of my soul behind.
There’s a roll of thunder, but it’s quiet. The storm is clearing.
“Tyla, please,” I beg, imploring her with my eyes. Imploring her to be the girl who would never dream of hurting someone. I need her to be my sister. I need her to come back right this minute. “Please don’t hurt him.”
She doesn’t bother looking away from him, even as she momentarily halts her feeding. “You should be grateful for this mercy. Mother wants him flayed. This is a kindness for how he’s cared for you.”
She starts the process again, and Derian’s body seizes, his features shifting into an expression of utter pain. Still, his hand pushes on my thigh.
“No!” I don’t know if I’m screaming at him or at her.
I can’t.
Running means leaving him to die.
Staying means making her stop in the only way I know how.
“Please don’t make me choose between you.”
She doesn’t stop.
Derian’s eyes are darkening, and I know what happens next.
I know what his body will look like.
Nausea rolls through me. My fingers shake. My entire body shakes.
Hours. It had been only hours since we sat at the table joking about the flavor of cake we would have at my wedding. I was supposed to marry this beautiful bastard of a Fae male at my feet, and she was supposed to stand by my side while I did it.
“Forgive me,” I whisper.
My hand moves faster than my heart.
Finally, I grasp onto that magical spark in my gut and let it explode.
It floods through me, traveling down my spine in an instant, before erupting out of me in brilliantly warm, golden light. It surrounds the three of us, wrapping us all in its shimmering embrace.
The smell of magic is all around me.
Tyla gasps.
And I watch my sister fall.