Chapter Thirty-six #2
But then he saw why she had acted.
Both Wren and Kipp were hanging in mid-air, in a swirling mass of obsidian power. Wren’s lightning was fading, as though the darkness were suffocating it.
Wilder watched in horror as Thea threw herself into the fray, drawing lightning from the sky, which had opened up and unleashed a downpour upon them all.
Whips of shadow magic came for her, and she threw her lightning at it with full force.
All Wilder could do was keep fighting the wraiths surging across the forest floor around them, Torj at his back, Cal shooting his dwindling supply of arrows into their wings and limbs, pinning them down for the slaughter.
With all his Warsword strength and agility, Wilder cut them down, tore their hearts from their chests and fought his way to Thea, who wielded lightning at her trembling fingertips, her eyes mirroring the storm around her.
The assault she summoned was unlike anything he had seen before.
Multiple forks of lightning speared down to the earth, leaving woodland and wraith alike in cinders, no Naarvian steel needed.
Wind ripped through the woods, stripping trees of their bark and leaves, tearing at the shadows whipping around them all.
The ground trembled.
Several strikes of blinding light hit the forest.
Wilder’s hand shot up to shield his eyes against the force of it.
Suddenly, there was a quiet breath in the storm and Wilder blinked until the spots left his vision, lowering his arm and taking in the destruction before them.
Where the largest wraiths had stood, scorched hearts lay steaming in the dirt. Wilder loosed a trembling breath, unable to quite believe what he was seeing.
Thea had burned out their hearts with her lightning.
Any remaining wraiths spread their wings and shot through the canopy, leaving a shower of leaves in their wake.
Both Wren and Kipp were released. They crouched on all fours, dry heaving into the dirt, sheens of sweat coating their brows, their faces drawn and pale.
And Thea stood at the heart of it all, panting, lightning still adorning her fingers.
She didn’t hear him when he called.
Wilder staggered to her, dropping his bloodied blades in the leaf litter and gripping her gently by the arms. ‘Thea…’
The storm in her eyes quietened and her gaze locked onto his, as though she were seeing him for the first time. She drew a ragged breath, her magic winking out.
‘There you are,’ he said softly.
Still dazed, she scanned him from head to toe, taking in the blood and gore that coated him before searching for the others. He watched as she assessed Wren, Kipp, Cal and Torj one by one, no doubt looking for signs of injury, signs that she’d failed them.
Wilder let her see that everyone was alright, safe and whole. Then he turned to Torj as he approached with Cal, both as filthy and battered as Wilder, but otherwise unharmed. ‘We need to find the horses,’ Wilder said, his voice a low rumble that left no room for argument. ‘We’ll look this way.’
Without another word, he took Thea by the hand and dragged her through the woods, away from the others, his chest tightening with each step, every ounce of fear he’d beaten down in the heart of the battle now surging to the surface.
She followed him without objection as he wove them between the trees, as he took them deeper and deeper into the forest until he heard the sound of rushing water and then the roar of a waterfall. Beside it was a spring, ribbons of steam rippling from glassy water.
The missing horses were the furthest thing from Wilder’s mind.
When he was sure they were alone, he whirled around to face her. The gates that had kept everything at bay sprung apart and suddenly, he was yelling.
‘How could you have been so senseless? So foolish? So careless with your own fucking life, Thea?’ His chest hurt as the words tumbled from his lips, as he struggled to get air into his lungs.
Thea blinked at him, and it only served as fuel to the fire of terror raging within.
‘I have told you that fate stone doesn’t make you invincible.
I have told you not to throw yourself into danger without a thought.
I have told you there are fates far fucking worse than death.
’ He rattled off everything he had ever said to her, part reprimand, part plea.
All the while, that fracture in his chest deepened.
Thea stared at him, shaking beneath his grip.
He kept his gaze locked on her, his own body trembling just as much as hers. ‘It doesn’t fucking matter if you’re a shieldbearer, a Guardian, a fucking storm wielder or a Warsword. You cannot keep doing this. I won’t allow it.’
‘You won’t allow it?’ Her first words to him were as sharp as a blade. ‘You won’t allow it ?’
That tempest in her eyes was back, surging right for him. But Wilder was done. He hadn’t allowed the darkness to take her back in the Bloodwoods and he sure as fuck wouldn’t let her own darkness consume her now.
‘No,’ he ground out. ‘I won’t allow it.’
She took a step towards him, closing what little space remained between them, staring up at him with fire in her gaze. ‘Why?’ she snarled.
Wilder couldn’t stand the inferno within for a second longer – couldn’t take the strain on his heart, on his soul, for a moment more.
‘Because I fucking love you,’ he said.