20. Willow
Willow
Hundreds of horrible, malformed creatures pour from the shadows in a writhing, slow-moving mass.
Their shriveled limbs twist and claw, tangling with their brethren and filling the air with stomach-churning cracks as the mass consumes them and moves on.
The stench comes next—rot, laced with something sweet, and somehow worse.
And the screams… God, the screams… I’ve never heard anything so heartbreaking and terrifying all at once. They overlap into one long, tearing note that settles into the marrow of my bones, freezing me to the spot and filling my veins with lead.
“Good gods.” Dravik’s face is slack with horror. “How do we fight this?”
No one answers. There are too many—I know that just by looking at them. There’s no way we can fight them all off, even with Vhalthor’s army.
That doesn’t stop them from trying, though.
With a battle roar, Vhalthor charges into the horde, teeth bared and blade swinging. His soldiers follow suit, launching into battle without a care in the world. They’re vicious and determined, moving so quickly it’s hard to keep up.
Steel meets bone, filling the cavern with wet, grinding crunches and the splatters of gore. Bodies pile at the front of the line, but for every creature that falls, three more replace it. Still, Vhalthor and his soldiers fight.
“Go!” Dagny yells to her mates. “Help them!”
Wings snap, and Dagny and her mates launch into the air, their expressions taut and teeth bared for a battle to the death. My mates hold back, forming a protective line in front of me, their muscles coiled and ready should anything threaten my safety.
With the help of Dagny and her mates, Vhalthor’s forces finally gain the upper hand. I watch from behind Dravik's wing, my fingernails digging into my palms as they tear through the horde, slicing and hacking at the malformed bodies, spraying black blood and sinew in all directions.
A soldier ducks under a swinging arm and drives his sword straight through a creature's skull, and it releases a wheezing moan before going limp.
He jumps back from the approaching mass just as one of Dagny's mates tears one from the mass of bodies, releasing a bloodcurdling roar as he rips the creature apart with his bare hands.
Screams, howls, and the wet crack of bone stack on top of each other until I can't separate one horrifying sound from the next. Bile rises in the back of my throat with every fresh spray of gore, but I force myself to keep watching. I need to see this. I need to know if we stand a chance.
For one terrifying, hopeful second, I think we might.
The pile of bodies grows. The horde thins. Vhalthor’s soldiers press forward, driving what's left of them back into the dark with their ailing bodies.
As relief is cresting in my veins, another chorus of screams breaks out from deeper within the tunnel. Louder. Deadlier.
I blink, and a second horde spills from the shadows, easily twice as large as the first. Vhalthor’s soldiers freeze, and I can read their thoughts plainly on their faces. The end is near.
Vhalthor stops mid-roar, his blade lowering an inch as he takes in the sheer mass bearing down on him.
For a heart-stopping moment, I think he’s going to turn and hightail it out of here.
Slowly, Vhalthor looks to his right, then his left, taking in the brave demons fighting at his side.
With renewed vigor, he faces the throng, raising his blade high as he lets out a bellowing roar.
“FIGHT!”
Once more, the king and his soldiers throw themselves into battle, slicing and hacking blindly, their objective to kill as many as they can before they are overwhelmed.
I know it won’t be long.
I watch in horror as two of Vhalthor’s soldiers are pulled into the horde, their screams cut short as the creatures pull them apart limb by limb, spraying blood and sinew in all directions as the mass feasts on their flesh.
I try not to be sick and hold it together.
But then I look to the side and notice Dagny is getting overwhelmed.
Her wings beat hard, trying to keep her aloft as two creatures claw at her legs.
There’s a flash of movement, and her red-eyed mate lunges into action, cutting them down with a single swipe of his claws.
However, it only helps for a moment. Six more creatures take their place, and soon, Malice and Dagny are losing the fight once more.
Noticing this, her other five mates circle her, doing their best to hold off the attackers and protect her.
But there are too many creatures and not enough of them to help.
I'm horrified, terrified Dagny might die. More than that, I’m sick at the fact I have to stand here and watch it happen, unable to do anything.
Spoon! I shout into my mind. I need you!
I feel the serafyn stir, feel its eyes cracking open behind mine, taking in the same horror I'm watching.
Ah. I see.
White-hot panic races through my veins, muddling my mind. I need your help!
Do you?
A spike of irritation rises, but I shove it down. I don’t have time to be angry. I need her to help them before it’s too late.
Those creatures. Can you get rid of them?
There’s a long pause. Can I? Yes.
I wait for what feels like hours but is probably only moments. Well? I demand.
Well, what?
Get rid of them!
There’s a low chuckle. Why?
Why? WHY? We’re all going to fucking die!
The serafyn doesn’t answer. I don’t have any more time to argue with her, either, because at that moment Dravik grabs me and shoves me into a small crevice in the cave wall.
“Stay here.” He takes my face in his hands. “If we can’t hold them off… I want you to run, Willow. Run like you’ve never run before. You have to live, my heart. Promise me you’ll live.”
Rhune and Nyx stand at my sides, clasping my hands hard enough to hurt. “Willow,” Rhune begs. “Please. Promise us you’ll save yourself.”
“I…”
Nyx looks at me, not saying anything but pleading with his eyes. And that makes me feel worse, because I know I’m going to lie.
“Okay,” I whisper. “I’ll run. I’ll save myself.”
All three of my mates let out a collective breath. One by one, they place their lips to the top of my head, lingering a little bit too long. Like they’re saying goodbye.
I don’t have time to question it, though.
By the time I blink, my three mates are launching themselves into battle, ready to die for me.
For a while, I’m too scared to watch. When I open my eyes, I see Rhune's wing is torn and drags uselessly behind him as he struggles with three ravenous creatures.
Dravik is in a similar position, stumbling over bodies as he swings, half his strikes hitting nothing but air.
Nyx is by far the worst off. At least a dozen of the creatures have him boxed in, and every time he cuts one down, another closes the gap before he can catch his breath.
They’re dying! I scream at the serafyn. You have to do something!
Keeping you alive is my priority. Not them.
I stare at the horde swarming my mates, my heart slamming against my ribs.
There's a gap near the edge of the fighting, just wide enough for someone small to slip through unnoticed.
I could reach the dagger stuck in one of the fallen creatures.
I could buy them a few seconds. A few seconds might be enough for them to get the upper hand, and then, and then…
Don’t you dare—
But it’s too late. I’m already moving, racing toward the horde. I grab the dagger at my hip, holding it tight in my fist as I close the distance.
My boots skid on something black and wet, and I catch myself just before I go down, letting out a small yelp. The sound alerts one of the creatures, and it turns its head toward me, jaw unhinging with a wet crack.
Before it has the chance to understand what the tiny human is doing, I close the last few feet between us, raising my hands high before driving my dagger into the top of its skull.
There’s a wet crunch, and the beast collapses to the ground without a sound. I yank the dagger's handle, but it won't come free, no matter how hard I try.
No. No, no, no. Please, no.
A second creature breaks off from the mass, turning its eyeless head toward me and letting out a shriek. I stumble back a step with nothing in my hands, the terror in my veins replacing all rational thought.
I don’t want to die…
It lunges, and everything slows down. I watch its jaws stretch wider than should be possible, rows of broken teeth angling toward my throat. I can’t move, can't make a sound, can’t save myself.
For one horrible moment, I think the serafyn is going to let me die.
Then I hear it sigh.
Ugh. Fine. You win.
A current builds under my skin, originating from somewhere deep in my chest and spreading through my veins until my whole body hums with it.
My teeth ache. My shoulder blades burn. My vision goes dark at the edges.
Then it breaks free.
The blast tears out of me in every direction at once, stealing the air from my lungs and leaving my throat raw with the power of my scream.
Energy rips across the cavern, and everywhere it touches, the creatures come apart.
Flesh shreds from bone, as if a thousand flaming blades were tearing through the cavern at once.
Black blood sprays the walls, the ceiling, my skin, and the screaming howls of the horde cut off, leaving a bone-chilling silence in its place.
As fast as it came, the power drains out of me, and my knees buckle. I hit the ground hard, hauling in lungfuls of air that don’t seem to do anything at all.
All around, the demons look on, absolutely stunned. Vhalthor's soldiers lower their weapons, staring at the carnage, then at me. No one moves. No one speaks. I can feel the weight of every single gaze in the room, but I don't know if it’s in awe or fear.
Maybe it’s both.
“Willow!” Rhune yells, then I hear three sets of footsteps. My mates kneel at my side, but I can’t raise my head to look at them. I’m terrified at what I will find.
They run their hands over my back, whispering soothing words into my ear that I can’t quite make out. When that doesn’t help, Rhune pulls me into his lap, his wings curling around me as he holds my shivering body tight to his chest.
“It’s okay, pup. Just breathe. In, out, in… That’s it. That’s good. I’m here, Willow. I’m here. Just breathe with me.”
When it feels like I'm not going to collapse into a puddle, I open my eyes and raise my head.
My muscles are shaking, and it takes real effort to keep myself upright, but I manage.
Rhune's wings unfurl slowly, the dark orange membrane peeling back to let the dim light in. Nyx’s face comes into view, drawn tight with worry.
“Hey, beautiful.” He reaches out and cups my face in his warm palm. “You okay?”
“I should be asking you that.” My words are raw and cracked. “I thought… I was sure you were going to…”
“Shh. It’s okay, beautiful. Because of you, we’re alive. Because of you.” He leans in, pressing his forehead to mine. “You’re fantastic. Absolutely incredible.”
A shadow falls over us, and I look up to find Vhalthor standing there.
His skin is covered in blood and oozing wounds, his face creased in exhaustion.
His squinting eyes brim with an emotion I can’t place.
Anger? Perhaps he’s thinking about how stupid it was for me to rush in alone, seeing how small and fragile he believes me to be.
I brace myself for a scathing comment.
Instead, Vhalthor kneels.
“Thank you, little human.” His voice is softer than I’ve ever heard it before, almost reverent. “You saved my men and me. We are forever in your debt.” Vhalthor dips his chin to his chest in a show of deep respect and trust.
I don't know how to put into words what this means to me. So instead, I just say, “I would do it again a thousand times over if given the chance.”
The edges of Vhalthor’s lips quirk into a half smile. He rises to standing, giving me one last nod of respect before turning and heading back to his injured soldiers.
Dagny watches him go, something unreadable passing over her face. “Never thought I'd see that,” she mutters.
“See what?”
“A humbled Vhalthor.” She huffs a tired laugh. “You really are incredible, Willow."
I turn my attention back to the pile of bodies, a chill creeping down my spine as I recall the feel of the serafyn’s power rising within me. There was something… addictive about it. Even thinking about it now, I’m itching to feel it again. To wield that kind of power.
That’s what worries me.
“We should get going as soon as we can.” Dagny looks where Vhalthor’s soldiers are collecting the bodies of their fallen brothers. “I don’t want to stay here any longer than we have to.”
I couldn’t agree more.