2. Rhune
Rhune
My arms tighten around Willow as some deeper, primal instinct takes over, pumping rage through my veins and lighting my soul with a hungry, unquenchable fire.
There is no softness left in me, no room for the compassion or gentleness that Willow has fostered.
There is only the singular, burning need to keep her whole.
I will protect Willow with my life. I will not let this demon touch her. I will not let him near her.
Beside me, Nyx goes rigid, a low growl building in his chest as he steps forward, putting himself between our mate and the stranger's molten stare. Nyx says nothing. He doesn't need to. His claws and teeth have already extended, gleaming with a silent promise of his own.
“You think you can protect her?” He tilts his head back, letting loose a cruel laugh. “How pathetic. It’s so pitifully sad, it’s funny.”
“You won’t be laughing so loudly when I rip out your windpipe,” Nyx snarls. “That, I promise you.”
“I’d love to see you try.” The demon smirks. “Come on. I’ll even let you get the first blow in.”
Don’t, Nyx, I warn through our bond. He’s goading you. I don’t trust this one at all.
You think I do? Nyx growls. I cannot just stand here and let him attack us, though. I have to do something.
Nyx steps forward, his muscles taut, ready to attack.
Before he can move another inch, a rush of wind sweeps through the tunnel entrance, and two more figures drop into the cave behind the red-eyed male. My stomach twists as I take them in, realizing they are the same two we saw circling in the sky earlier. The ones we thought we had evaded.
One is lean, with black hair falling loose around a pair of glowing golden eyes that sweep the room with an unhurried calm.
The other is massive, nearly matching Dravik in sheer size and muscle tone, with thick purple hair tied out of his face and cascading in an elaborate braid down his back.
His narrowed eyes glare, their dark hue matching his hair and promising violence.
Three against two.
The realization causes a fist of ice to wrap around my windpipe and squeeze. We cannot win this fight. Not with our numbers and with Willow to protect. My eyes scan the room, looking for an exit—but there’s nowhere left to retreat.
Cin. Dravik. I push the call down the bond as hard as I can, panic and desperation bleeding into my every word. We need you. Now. If you can feel this—if you can hear me at all—please. Hurry.
The purple one doesn't so much as glance at Willow. His gaze is locked on the red demon, eyes blazing with a question. "Where is Slaine?"
The red male tilts his head, unbothered by his friend's tone. "I haven't seen him. I found this lair that reeks of him, and I've been waiting for him to come back." His grin falls slightly. "So far, all I've caught is this human and her two lapdogs."
"If you're looking for Slaine, you're out of luck." Nyx’s voice is flat and hard. "He's dead."
"Liar!" The red one's lip curls back, revealing a flash of pointed teeth. "I've seen him flying near the Welwig forest."
Ice floods my veins. Cin. He’s talking about Cin.
Gray skin. Similar build. From a distance and in bad light, one could easily mistake the two. We’ve often thought Cin looked the most like Slaine out of the four of us. We just never imagined something like this could happen.
These demons aren't hunting Slaine. They're hunting my brother.
I open my mouth to say so, but the rising sounds of an argument swallow my voice.
“No! I’m tired of listening to you and your logic! We need to act!” The red one shoves the gold one back a step, and the latter returns the gesture with a deadly snarl.
Before the two can attack each other, the purple one wedges himself between them, his palms raised and pressing into their chests as he struggles to talk some sense into the red one.
Truly unhinged behavior. I hope we are not like this.
Nyx glances at me from the corner of his eye. No comment.
We stand there for a few moments, assessing the situation. Finally, I can’t take it anymore.
Nyx. I speak his name through our bond, gesturing with my eyes toward the tunnel's mouth. Should we?
He glances toward the exit, noting the clear path that has opened up in the chaos. Lips twitching, he looks back at me. Might as well try.
We move together, slow and silent, toward the exit with Willow’s small body tucked between us. We're a few feet out when one of them breaks off mid-argument.
"Hey! Where do you think you're going?"
I look at Nyx, my heart jumping to my throat.
"Run for it!" I yell, grabbing Willow and bolting for the exit.
We’re a few paces from freedom when a fourth figure materializes in the mouth of the cave, sending out a blast of magic powerful enough to stop us in our tracks. The female hovers, her feathered black wings beating gracefully, gently lowering her to the ground.
“Malice, Kaebl, Roark, please… let's all calm down for a moment.”
The female is smaller than I expect for the authority in her voice.
Her long black hair falls loose around a face set in fierce concentration, which contrasts greatly with her warm bronze-colored eyes.
She whips her head to take us in, and as she does, I catch the faintest ring of silver flickering at the edge of her irises, like something coiled just beneath the surface, waiting to strike.
Her cunning eyes take in Willow’s shivering form tucked safely between us, and her gaze narrows in assessment before something in her expression shifts.
“You… are not Slaine,” she says.
"No. He is dead. He has been gone for a very long time,” I say.
She raises her brows. “How do you know?”
“Because we were born of his ashes,” Nyx explains, stepping forward with a glare.
“Rhune tried to explain, but they wouldn’t listen.
The four of us—my brothers and I—are all that's left of Slaine, and we are nothing like him," Nyx says with barely restrained disgust. "We have never been like him, and we will never be like him. "
"I see…” The female glances over her shoulder, locking eyes with the gold one. She is silent for a long while, and I realize they are having a telepathic conversation through their mate bond. Astounding…
After a while, the woman turns her attention back to us. “We believe you." She takes a small step closer. "It may be stupid of us, but we do."
“You have no reason not to trust us,” Nyx points out. “You are the ones who threatened us.” He turns his glare toward the red one.
“You’ll have to forgive Malice. He tends to think violence is the solution to everything.”
“It has yet to fail me,” he adds with a feline smirk.
She waves a hand dismissively. “He’s sweet when you get to know him. Until then, just try not to piss him off.”
She stops a few paces away, her eyes trying to see over my shoulder. "Is that your mate?"
I nod stiffly. "Yes. And if you threaten her like the red one, I will not hesitate to attack you."
She raises her brows as a single, barking laugh explodes into the air.
"I don't doubt that. I wouldn't recommend it, though.
" She shoves her thumb over her shoulder with a grin, gesturing to the purple demon.
"Roark has a mean set of claws, and he never needs much of an excuse to use them when he feels his mate is in danger. "
"So we are the same in that regard, at least." I fix the red one with a glare, watching his movements carefully. He may be larger, but I am speedier… which means I could tear out his throat before he could crush me in his mammoth-sized paws.
The woman turns, addressing the room at large. "Everyone, stand down. This was clearly a misunderstanding. Slaine is dead. He's not coming back, and we have nothing to gain by fighting each other over it."
The tension slowly bleeds out of the cave. The gold one's shoulders drop first, then the purple one's, his glare softening into something almost sheepish. Even the red one settles, though his molten eye never quite leaves me.
She turns back to me, her expression gentling. "My name is Dagny. Dagny Olavera.” Her eyes flick over my shoulder again. “Can I say hello to her? Your mate?"
“I suppose… if she wants to.” I gaze down at Willow, surprised to find her expression lit up with excitement. “Do you want to say hello?”
“Duh!”
Before I can react, Willow rushes out from behind me, and she and Dagny throw their arms around each other in a firm embrace.
“Oh my God!” Willow squeals. “I never thought I’d see another human again! Much less a woman! My name’s Willow, and it’s so nice to meet you!”
Dagny chuckles, running her palm over Willow's back in a motherly caress. “I am only half human. But it’s wonderful to see another woman after being surrounded by all these stinky men for the last twenty-six years.”
Willow giggles, pulling back slightly to grin at Dagny. Only when their eyes meet does Willow’s expression go slack, and her eyes start glowing a bright, ominous red.
Her body seizes a heartbeat later, limbs jerking as a guttural language tumbles from her mouth. Words and ancient syllables fill the air, scraping against something old and primal in my soul.
Tendrils of energy unfurl from her shoulders, curling and twisting into the barely visible shape of wings before dissolving back into the air.
"Willow?" Dagny's voice cracks with panic. "What's wrong with her? Willow!"
Dagny places her hand on Willow’s forehead, a dark blue light pulsing from her palm as she attempts to push healing magic into Willow’s body. As soon as she does, a blast of raw energy explodes from Willow. It tears through the air, ripping us off our feet and hurling us backward to the cave walls.
My spine slams into ice, and my vision goes white with pain a split second before the darkness swoops in, attempting to claim me. I fight against it, using all the power in my body to remain conscious.
When I open my eyes, I can't move.
Invisible bands of pressure pin me in place, suspending me several feet off the ground.
Only my eyes still obey me, and when I drag them around the room, I find everyone else caught in the same trap—Nyx, the red one, the gold one, the purple one, Dagny—all of us are hanging, useless, unable to break this strange power.
Willow floats at the center of the room, held aloft by those beautiful, formless wings.
Her silhouette is haloed by an ominous sheen of red light, as if bursting from her pores.
Her eyes are locked on Dagny, burning with a disgust that doesn't belong on Willow's face, and her smile is curved into something cruel and… hungry.
"Halfling," she says in a voice that's not hers. "We've been dying to meet you."