Chapter Fifty-Four
Daxton Aegaeon
The wilt was death incarnate.
As soon as our feet touched the cursed ground, I could feel its magic threaten to tear us apart. I teleported Adohan and myself to the border, fighting our way through garmr and, by the grace of the Gods, only a handful of fallen creatures, for now.
Valencia sliced through the spinal cord of a garmr standing in our path, easily taking the life of the creature bred by darkness and birthed with the sole purpose of devouring any source of life it could find.
Only a handful of hounds were able to pass us, but thankfully, Adohan’s call to arms was answered faster than I anticipated.
“We must reach the ward, Adohan!” I shouted on the battlefield, forcing my friend to alter his focus and allow his warriors to handle the brunt of the attack.
The wilt’s magic was unlike anything in this world, a dark curse that lurked in the shadows and in the blackened mist. No one ever emerged from the mists. If the toxic fog encased you, it was better to end your life with a blade than feel the life stripped from your bones and encase your very soul.
To this day, Zola was still the only one ever known to escape with her life.
“Hurry, Adohan!” I roared, my blade humming with the magic of my people, ready to eradicate any enemy who dared step in my path.
“Eager to take down another fallen, I see,” Adohan rasped as he ran to my side. “Have you seen the flock circling overhead?”
I nodded, knowing exactly who was in the sky fighting against the threat looming from above. I sensed my mate the moment she joined the battle. “Idris with her?” I asked.
“Dammit. Yes,” Adohan groaned. “I should’ve known better.”
We ran in silence, our feet pounding into the ground as dust from the decaying land sprang from our footsteps. The magic of the wilt strengthened the farther we ran past the border.
It felt alive. How? I had no gods-damned idea, but I knew in my bones that it was watching us. Calculating when to strike. Searching for a weakness.
“There’s the tower!” Adohan shouted.
From the shadows, Zola fought beside Crimson City warriors against harpies from the sky and garmr on the ground. Pushing my legs to move faster, I didn’t dare teleport us to the tower, saving as much of my magic as I could to help strengthen Adohan’s wards.
Using the rocky terrain to my advantage, I leaped onto a nearby boulder, raising Valencia overhead before my blade sliced through the middle of a hovering harpy. The creature wailed. The other High Fae turned their attention to our arrival, relief washing over their faces.
“The ward, Daxton, we need to climb!”
Fucking stairs, I internally groaned.
I told Adohan to build his relic on the ground level, but the bastard wanted to put it on a pedestal.
“We’ve got this under control,” Zola roared. “But not if you don’t get those wards up.”
I sheathed Valencia across my back and darted toward the stone steps carved into the outer layer of the tower, combating my instinct to fight instead of run.
Climbing the steps, I searched down the bond for my mate. Relief and a swell of pride surged through my chest as I felt Skylar’s presence. Her fiery spirit fueled me with a surge of power even from a distance.
Skylar was alive.
She was close, and she was heading this way.