The War of Wings (The Benevolence & Blood #3)

Prologue

“Fuck him to the deepest pits of Hell.” Fingernails screeched against the windows as the man ground the words through gritted teeth. “ Fuck him.”

The woman cradled the newborn girl to her chest, barely flinching when another cannonball made impact against the roof.

Dust floated down from the disintegrating ceiling, clinging to the blanket that was laid over her bare legs.

If she focused hard enough, she could pretend it was soft falling snow and not the world collapsing around her.

She stared teary-eyed into the peaceful, sleeping face she’d created with the man who stood pacing before the door.

The man she desperately loved, and who desperately loved her, when the universe had been designed to keep them apart.

“Our darling girl,” she whispered, brushing the flakes of dust from her daughter’s sleeping face. “She’s perfect.”

“We need to get her out of here,” the man growled, fists clenched painfully at his sides. He knew the truth, just as they all did .

The man’s eyes moved wildly about the room, landing everywhere but on the tiny girl.

Somewhere deep inside him, he thought maybe if he kept his gaze averted, if he never truly looked into her eyes, the pain would be less devastating.

That maybe when the inevitable happened — and the inevitable was on their doorstep — a small piece of him would remain intact.

The crystals of the chandelier hanging above them rattled as another cannonball slammed into the roof.

It was followed by the terrifying screech of a driva.

Adorex, the largest of the five drivas, was no doubt raining hell upon the attackers.

And though she couldn’t see them, Katia knew her kelpies were galloping over the water, raising tidal waves high enough to wash out the demons closest to shore.

The soulhags split the earth and crawled forth, ripping through what they could.

Still the woman stared down at the tiny bundled form in her arms, a soft smile on her lips as she began to rock absentmindedly.

Eight other Saints stood solemnly against the far wall, each of their faces falling somewhere between primal fear and crushing sorrow. Some let tears roll down their cheeks. Others clenched their jaws to keep the pain from boiling over. All of them knew what this was. What it meant.

One of them stepped forward, his stare on the newborn girl in her mother’s arms. His rugged face was the picture of cool control, but there was fear in his eyes, plain to see.

The baby’s mother managed to rip her gaze away from her daughter, her stare hardening as she took in the man before her, the scene around them.

Staring into her daughter’s face had quieted the world around Katia, blurred it in such a way that it simply did not exist at all.

But it did exist, and it was screaming for her attention.

When she finally spoke, her voice was hoarse. “Please, Faldyr. Tell me there’s something you can do.”

Faldyr’s jaw ticked as yet another cannonball struck the building, this time somewhere below them.

“I’ve done everything I can,” the Saint of War said, his voice coarse.

“Katia, Rhedros…” His voice trailed off, and he flinched at the telltale sign of a driva’s claws on the roof above them.

“The walls are going to fall any moment now.”

“You think we don’t know that?!” Rhedros roared, his pacing coming to an abrupt halt as he turned to Faldyr.

The edges of the footsteps he’d left in the dust had already begun to soften as the ceiling continued to crumble above them.

Heat surged in the room as Adorex screeched from her perch on the roof, the burning light of her fire casting the room in an orange glow before she dove from the tower in pursuit of her prey below.

Somewhere beyond the walls of the castle were the other four drivas, working to decimate everything in their path in an attempt to protect their Keepers.

But it wasn’t enough. Malosym was too strong. The Occulti were too numerous. Every precaution they’d taken to keep the Saints’ Realm protected had failed.

Would they die here? Could they die here? No one knew. Yet.

“Let me take her.”

Noros, Saint of Pain, stepped through the doors at the back of the chamber. His chest heaved, breaths sawing in and out through parted lips as he stared at Katia. For a moment, it seemed like the chaos stilled as his words settled over the room.

“Take her where?” Rhedros demanded, and the chaos resumed.

“The Human Realm.”

Rhedros jolted at Noros’ words. His lips curled, his nostrils flaring as he stared at the Saint of Pain. “Are you out of your damn mind?” Rhedros snarled, his voice terrifyingly low. Katia let out a sob that wracked her whole body as she held her baby to her chest.

Noros stepped forward, brows turned up in a look so sincere that for a split second, Rhedros’ outrage faltered.

It was all Noros needed. With his palms out, he took another step toward the Keeper of the Blood Saints.

“Listen to me. I’ll leave her with a human family.

She’ll be raised as a human. She’ll never know her true identity. She’ll be safe .”

Rhedros’ mouth opened, a deep inhale preparing him to refuse Noros’ idea, but Katia’s voice cut in. It was no longer weak and hoarse. She was a ruler, after all. A Keeper. But perhaps most powerful of all, a mother. “How do you know she’ll be safe? What if she finds out who she is?”

“She won’t,” Noros answered quickly. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Rhedros’ face had gone red, his eyes still wild with fear. “How?”

“I’ll…” Noros took a steadying breath. “I’ll stay with her. In the Human Realm.”

Katia, Rhedros, and Faldyr all reared back as they stared at the Saint of Pain. The other Saints gasped, hands flying to mouths and heads shaking.

“I’ll take her myself,” Katia said, her voice hard with authority as she straightened and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Rhedros rushed to her side, but she shook him off, hiding the wince that pulled at her features. “Let me go, Rhedros.”

But Rhedros shook his head, his eyes wide. “You’re a Keeper.”

“I’m a mother ,” she roared, clutching her daughter tighter to her chest as she stood.

“No,” Rhedros said quietly, shaking his head, staring into Katia’s determined face. “You cannot go, and you know that.”

Katia’s jaw quivered, the only sign of her wavering resolve. Somewhere far off, high above the city, a driva bellowed. A cannonball soared. A house collapsed.

Rhedros turned back to Noros, the Keeper’s brow furrowed. “You understand there is only one way for a Saint to enter the Human Realm, right?” Rhedros asked carefully, his words too fast as fear crept further up his throat.

Noros’ nod was solemn. “I’m aware. That’s why I’m asking.

And I know what it means.” The Saint of Pain shifted on his feet, steeling his stomach for the words he was going to speak.

Words he never thought he’d speak, but looking at the woman standing broken and bleeding next to the bed, holding desperately to her daughter, there was little choice.

It was either this, or watch the entirety of every realm crumble to ash. “I’ll watch over her. Keep him away.”

Katia’s head began to shake violently. “If you go anywhere near her, he’ll know. He’ll know it’s her.”

“But he won’t be Malosym in the Human Realm.

Not yet, at least. He’ll have none of his power there.

He’s going to have to start from nothing, as a boy of sixteen years, just as I will.

And he’ll find her eventually, whether he has those powers or not, and whether I’m there to protect her or not.

Think about it.” Noros stepped closer to Katia, his eyes flashing to Rhedros for a split second.

“He’ll be weak in the Human Realm. He won’t be able to return to the Saints’ Realm until he gains enough strength to cross the barrier again.

I can lead him out of the Saints’ Realm to protect you and–”

“I don’t care about protecting myself!” Katia roared, her face red with fury. “It’s her! She’s what I care about!”

“And I will protect her with my life,” Noros said, placing a hand against his chest. “You have my word.”

Though Katia’s sob wracked her body and the pain sliced far deeper than that of bringing a child into existence, it was deep in her bones that she knew he’d keep his word. Of this, she was sure. “She can never know the truth of her power, Noros. Keep him away from her. Keep him away .”

Faldyr’s eyes widened as he beheld Katia. “But Malosym will gain power in the Human Realm, and what if–”

“ No ,” Katia snarled, her eyes narrowed on Faldyr who only gave a solemn nod in response. Katia looked back to Noros, her eyes hard and pleading and desperate. “She cannot know. I don’t care how powerful Malosym becomes. That burden is not hers to bear. If the time comes, it will be ours. ”

Rhedros’ eyes fell to Katia’s trembling profile, still careful to keep them from his daughter.

Until a tiny noise escaped the baby, a tiny coo that should’ve been inconsequential in the scope of all of the world, in all the time that had come and gone and the time yet to pass.

And yet, here, in this crumbling tower in the heart of the Saints’ Realm, as Malosym’s fury crashed down upon them and the very foundation of the world itself grew brittle and shaky, that tiny noise drew Rhedros’ eyes to his daughter’s face, and it was clear.

He knew, in that moment, the same thing Katia did. He would do anything, give anything to protect her. To keep her from the chaos and pain of Malosym’s wrath that was so much stronger here in the Saints’ Realm than it would be in the Human Realm.

They both knew there was only one thing they could do to save their daughter. The entirety of the world, too. Rhedros looked to Katia and dipped his chin slightly, the movement spilling a single tear that traversed down his cheek in a silent, mournful trail.