Chapter Thirty-Seven
Evellor
Evellor had snuck away from camp and flown into the dark sky high enough to evade detection before circling the fortress.
It was time. Mal would be waiting for him.
With anticipation shivering over his skin, Evellor waited a few minutes after the hourly patrol left, and then descended toward the back of the fortress.
Excitement vanished under fear.
The ward was down, and Mal was scampering down the side of the fortress wall, a black shadow against the pale stone.
On the ground, coming around the corner, were six Aethari warriors who shouldn't be there.
Evellor recognized all of them and cursed under his breath.
It was Rallorival, the ex-rebel, and his friends.
What the fuck were they doing behind the fortress?
“Oh, no,” Evellor whispered.
Rallorival had spotted Mal. But instead of shouting for the patrol, he smacked his friend on the arm and motioned.
The Aethari warriors moved quietly toward the oblivious Mal.
Six to one. Mal wouldn't stand a chance.
It would be six to two if Evellor landed.
He would have gladly taken those odds for Mal, and they would have won.
Evellor was certain of it. Not a single one of those warriors was a match for him.
But if they saw Evellor, he wouldn't be able to have the life he wanted with Mal.
He would have to kill them. As much as he detested these Aethari, Evellor wasn't a murderer.
But if he hastened, he could render them unconscious before they could see his face.
Evellor swooped, grimacing at the cowardice of the act. But was it cowardice if it was the only option he had? It didn't matter. For Mal, he would abandon his morals.
The group of Aethari was already upon Mal, and Evellor's lover cringed against the wall as they circled him.
It was the fear on his face that sent Evellor into a bloodthirsty rage that he barely restrained.
His training saved him, and he held back his battle cry as he bashed two of the warriors' heads together.
They fell to the ground. Then two more. Then the last. All within seconds.
And not a single one looked his way. Mal kept them distracted.
The Aethari warriors lay in heaps around Mal's feet like an offering.
But Mal didn't look at them. Didn't even glance at their slack faces and twisted wings.
He gazed only upon Evellor. In his eyes were Evellor's dreams, all waiting to be fulfilled.
Mal rushed forward, dropping the satchel he was carrying, and jumped into Evellor's arms.
They kissed passionately, hands roaming and clutching with the frenzy of those who thought they'd never reunite. When they eased apart, they were both breathless.
Sirens came.
Mal flinched and looked back at the fortress. “They know the ward's down. We've got to go.”
The joy in Evellor's chest dropped, shoved down by anxiety. He looked at the unconscious soldiers and then at the fortress. “They're too close. The ward will slice them in two. Help me!” Evellor rushed to the Aethari and dragged two of them back.
Mal didn't hesitate. He ran forward to help Evellor save the people who would have tortured him. Seeing that made Evellor love Mal even more. The last one was Rallorival. Evellor yanked him back and dropped him. The man's coat flopped open, and moonlight hit a steel handle.
“What's that?” Evellor crouched.
“Ev, we've got to go!” Mal yanked on his arm.
“Hold on. Look.” He pulled the weapon from Rallorival's coat. “Isn't that a Nethren weapon?”
Mal went still as he stared at the thing. “It's called a dart. Yes, that's one of ours.” He looked up at Ev. “Does that mean what I think it means?”
“Those fucking bastards!” Evellor glared at the Aethari. “They shot at the prisoners. It was them!”
“Put it back!” Mal motioned at Rallorival.
“What?” Evellor gaped at him.
“You're coming back, right? You can confront him before witnesses and show them the dart.”
“You're right! I can bring him to justice.” Evellor slid the dart back into Rallorival's coat and folded the side over him to hide it just as the ward fell. He glanced at the fortress, and the sirens stopped. “Come here.” He opened his arms.
Mal hefted his satchel over his shoulder and rushed into Evellor's embrace. “Let's go, lover!”
“Hold on.” Evellor bunched his legs and jumped into the air. His wings pounded hard to get them high enough to fly unseen. And then he turned toward the coast.
He had done it. They had done it! Sweet Magic, they were going to be together—an Aethari and a Nethren.
What insanity. And yet, Evellor knew his life wouldn't make sense without Mal.
They had done it because it was their only option.
Really, it was Mal who was giving up the most for their relationship.
Evellor wouldn't have to leave anything.
He only gained. But Mal wasn't concerned about leaving everything he knew behind.
His eyes gleamed, and his lips never fell out of his broad grin.
He would have to hide who he was for the rest of his life, but he saw it as an adventure.
Nothing scared him. With that realization, Evellor's love for Mal grew once more.
Evellor wondered how big love could get. With the rate it was going, his love for Mal would eclipse Para before dawn.
“This is amazing!” Mal clutched his shoulders. “Don't drop me, Ev.”
“Never, my love. I will never let you go.”