Chapter Thirty-Nine
The tip of a sword pressed into the space between my wings.
Shifting either way would likely cause damage to them, and pushing backwards wasn’t an option.
The only way out was forward, but with the hold I had on my twin, it wouldn’t be simple—at least not if I didn’t want to lose the leverage I had over her.
In that split second of hesitation, though, I made a miscalculation.
I had assumed that with Viva holding back the efforts of over a hundred weather wielders, she’d be too exhausted to fight back. Instead, though, it seemed hearing her husband’s voice sparked life back into her once again as the back of her head connected with my nose in a nasty crunch.
Before the blood could even flow from my broken nose, I flung a tether out toward a shadow near the edge of the tower roof we stood on, trying to avoid falling into the sword at my back.
I solidified a connection in a near instant, my body dissipating into shadows as I speared toward the edge.
I was intrigued that my nose didn’t ache while within the shadows, but tucked that observation away for another time.
Returning to my physical form, I could feel the blood now gushing from my nose.
It fell down my face and clothes, but I didn’t bother trying to stop it before reaching my hands up and swiftly setting it back into place.
I didn’t flinch, didn’t wince—I simply stared at those who were on the other side of the roof from me.
King Thorntier—Robyn—had thrown himself before my twin, cupping her face in his hands with a gentleness I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen before. He was speaking low enough that I couldn’t hear him, but I saw her shaking her head in response to whatever he’d said.
Seeing such softness at another male’s hands caused me to look down at my own bloodied ones.
Had I truly been ready to take the life of my sister just a mere moment ago?
The same female who I had cared about more than anybody else—and possibly still did. Would I have been able to do it?
And if so, who—or what—did that make me?
“Call off your army, Dimitri,” Robyn said, now standing between my twin and me.
He was protecting her.
When had that stopped being my task?
Hatred bubbled up within me, stirring my zirilium, though I couldn’t tell who I hated more—Robyn or myself.
That hatred added another layer of hardness around my heart, sealing away the guilt I was beginning to feel.
I hadn’t been made to feel such things.
I had been made to rule.
To conquer.
And that was all I had left.
Sinking back into the numbness of my everyday life, I met Robyn’s eyes and smirked.
“I don’t think I will. I appear to be winning, after all.” I motioned toward the battlefield that remained of the encampment below and around us.
The male prisoners I’d sent after Aviva had softened the battlefield a fraction.
They’d fought, yes, but once the alychite cuffs started coming off, their zirilium had also begun to erupt, the same way Mother’s had.
They’d been a decent distraction while the actual army swept in and took over.
Now, even without the storm I’d been planning because of Aviva still holding it back—shaking so badly I thought her body might split in two—we would likely win here today.
The North often had the upper hand as we could attack from above, and it could become extremely difficult to watch all around you and above you as a soldier.
Not to mention that two of their strongest wielders just so happened to be at the top of a tower with me, instead of fighting with their people.
Before Robyn could respond, though, my head snapped sideways, my eyes searching out something I couldn’t see just yet.
Something I could only feel approaching from the shadows.
“What are you looking at?” Robyn’s gaze followed mine.
“We have company,” I responded.
But if I was about to be outnumbered, I was at least going to get a few good hits in first.
I was, after all, the embodiment of the embers of the fire I held within.
Summoning flames to coat my hands, I balled them into fists and began advancing on the Southern King.
To his credit, he stood his ground, refusing to leave my twin unprotected.
He conjured his own flames, and with the way he was planting his feet, I knew he had tapped into the stone of the tower, too.
My first punch had been blocked by his own hand—as planned. But as my second swing was about to make contact with Robyn’s jaw, a movement to my right caused my attention to sway.
Then, the shadow I felt approaching before was on me, moving faster than I’d imagined somebody’s shadow form could move.
I stumbled back a step, then two, as the dark form circled around my body like a snake. They moved so quickly that even when I tried to knock them away from me, they’d already moved to another spot.
After disorienting me, I saw a brief glint of a blade before the cuts began.
I winced and flinched, covering my face with my hands as I was bombarded.
It was as though they were mostly shadow, but a small part of them, like their hand, was physical every few seconds—just long enough to run a dagger across my skin.
“Rayven, stop!” Robyn called out, but the shadow figure didn’t slow down.
Blood ran from every wound, my clothes ruined and tattered, but whoever they were, they carried on. Finally, after trying so many times to knock their form off me, a manic laugh escaped my lips before I slid into the darkness, too.
My wounds ceased hurting and bleeding immediately, though they didn’t stop. Now, they were circling me, coming closer and closer, forcing me to shrink in on myself to avoid them.
I didn’t know much about the capabilities of fighting while in shadow form, but at least they couldn’t cut me anymore.
“Rayven!” Robyn said, his voice so strong and demanding that even I hesitated briefly. The other shadow did, too, and stared at me as though making a decision.
“Rayven, please, take Viva away from here. She refuses to stop until they’re here, and it isn’t safe for her up here,” Robyn explained, nearly begging.
How pathetic, I thought.
The other shadow, seeming to have been moved by what the Southern King said, slowly backed away from me and toward my sister.
It wasn’t until they materialized that I understood.
It wasn’t Rayven, as Robyn had thought.
Instead, Matea stepped out of the shadows, kneeling next to Viva.
My… sisters.
Robyn looked upon her, shock written across his features, though there was an underlying level of understanding mixed in, too.
I slipped back into my physical form, forcing my arms to stay by my side instead of trying to stop any of the bleeding.
“I’ve got you,” Matea said gently, wrapping her arms around Viva’s vibrating shoulders. But before they departed, she locked eyes with me.
“Where is my mother?” she asked—no, demanded.
“Not here, sister,” I sneered, blood dripping into my eye from a gash in my eyebrow.
“Don’t call me that,” she seethed. “As a matter of fact, don’t call either of us that. You’re nothing to us, Dimitri. You are nothing.”
With those final words, she dissipated into shadows, taking Viva with her.
Though as their dark forms slid away, another smudge of black marred the sky above—and was coming closer.
Ziana. And on her back sat Val.
Robyn followed my gaze, though he didn’t shrink away from the fight approaching him.
That was something I could appreciate.
Yet before Val could make it to us, the most powerful surge of shadow zirilium I’d ever experienced washed over me. Not my own—no. Whatever it was, it was approaching from the gaping hole Viva had managed to tear into the wall.
And it was approaching fast.
“What did you bring?” I asked Robyn, an edge of horror in my voice.
“What are you—” He was cut off by the sound of my soldiers screaming coming from the battlefield.
It was hundreds—no, definitely thousands—of shadows that began pouring onto the battlefield from the hole in the wall.
Their presence was so numerous and overwhelming that I could feel the weight of their power pressing against my bones.
I barely even registered Ziana and Val landing on the opposite side of the roof from all the energy electrifying the air.
“I’ll say it again, Dimitri,” Robyn ground out, taking a step forward as he motioned to his army—and my falling soldiers. “Call off your army.”
As I opened my mouth to refuse, though, a callused hand landed on my arm.
And the relief I felt at that single touch struck me to my core.
Turning my head to look at Val, she nodded slightly, then dipped her head toward the battle below.
She wanted me to look.
Slowly, I did as she pleased.
It was a bloodbath, I noticed.
And it was Northern blood being shed.
If I ever wanted to win, I had to plan my next moves wisely. And remaining here, I realized, would only weaken us. Weaken me.
And that wasn’t something I was willing to allow.
Turning back to Val, I met her eyes and did my best to convey that I understood.
Pointing a finger at Robyn, I stated, “This is just the beginning, Thorntier.” Grabbing hold of my Right Hand, I added, “Let’s fly, Val.”
Tethering myself to a shadow nearby, I wielded us onto Ziana’s back before the Southern King could try to interfere. Materializing again, Val sitting before me in Ziana’s saddle, we took flight toward the battlefield.
Though as we headed forward to retreat, I couldn’t ignore the way Val stared backwards—right where Robyn stood—and where my twin had kneeled.