Chapter 21
Rain rolled in after high sun, drowning all light beneath the towering canopy.
The typical summertime weather only seemed to enhance my dark mood.
Two days of vicious, biting back and forth with Sylaira had left me with a massive headache.
The comfortable bed in Stadur was a distant memory at this point, and nights on the ground were a cruel reminder of my duty to the crown.
My temples throbbed as I tugged on the reins and slowed the cart. Ilae settled on a branch high above as I leaped from the driver’s seat. “I’ll be right back. Don’t move.”
“As if I could,” Sylaira scoffed, shaking her arm for added emphasis.
I might have tied a rope around her wrist and to one of the rings typically used to secure supplies in the cart. If only to snatch a modicum of control back to keep myself from unraveling, to exert some power over her when she always knew how to slash the deepest wound with her words.
“But thank you for leaving me out here to get soaked again!” she called out as I stomped into the treeline to relieve myself.
We hadn’t passed a single soul in hours. And Sylaira had—thank the fucking Goddess—kept her hood up, concealing her eye color. The dark indigo cloak I wore over my leathers disguised my identity too. With my crew around, no one dared approach us.
But alone, in a desolate stretch of forest road?
I wasn’t taking any chances.
The rain picked up, pelting my head. A thick mist rolled in with it. Overhead, birds went silent. Chittering creatures did too as they sought shelter.
I buttoned my pants, then tightened my sword belt.
“Don’t move or I’ll put an arrow straight through your spine,” a masculine voice carved through the deluge, so fucking sure he’d already won.
A grin rose to my lips. Finally, someone I could actually hurt. Someone to slake this rage on with successive, brutal strikes.
“I don’t want any trouble.” That was a blatant lie. I raised my hands, all the while diving into the well of my magic and readying it for battle.
“That’s more like it. Now turn slowly toward me.”
I did, attention flicking in all directions while I kept my head lower than necessary. Besides the one with a bow trained on me, four others waited at varying degrees in the distance.
“Toss over your coin purse,” the male ordered.
“I’m afraid I don’t have it on me,” I said.
“Where is it?” a different one demanded.
“Back in my cart,” I replied, tone even. There was nothing these would-be robbers could do to me. The moment they tried, I would issue a Command and slaughter them all.
“Oh good. The others can get it too while they grab the Seer.”
Red misted my vision.
I drew a dagger from my thigh holster and lunged.
The sharp edge sank into the neck of the bow-wielder like sinew was nothing more than smoke.
A strangled cry tore out of him, and he slapped a hand over the gush of blood as he collapsed to the ground.
I was already spinning, white leaking from my fingertips and rising to shield myself from the next attack.
Sylaira’s shriek pierced the air.
Something primal exploded inside me. The need to protect. The need to slaughter.
No one can take her from me.
I sprinted toward the road, eating up the ground to the cart. A white wall bellied behind me, forcing further distance from the three remaining attackers. I needed to corral them until I knew how many others were with my mate.
“Get your fucking hands off me!” Sylaira shouted.
I broke through the treeline a heartbeat later, finding one male towering over her in the back of the cart.
Ilae screeched and swooped for the one holding the horses.
One reared, spooked by the chaos. That momentary distraction was enough for a third to appear in my periphery and launch himself at my legs.
We went down in a tangle of limbs.
But not before I saw Sylaira stretch out her hand and send the male in the cart blasting backward. He hit the wet ground with a solid thump.
I kicked the one off me and shoved to my feet. He scrambled upright, but I caught the back of his jerkin and brought my knee to his face. The crack from his nose breaking satisfied me in the sickest way.
With a groan, he crumpled. I drew my hand-forged sword and stabbed him through the heart.
“Shit, it’s the Issaraeth!” one attacker said. Because no one else in the Angel Realm needed a silver blade threaded with bronze. One part to kill Demons, the other to harm my own kith.
I whirled, finding the three from the forest skidding to a stop.
They must have gone around my barrier.
Which left me fighting five on one.
I’d had better odds. I’d also had worse.
Two cerulean-eyed males raced forward together. I ducked the first blow from a mace, whirling and slicing the back of his thighs. He went down, weapon tumbling away. But not before the second landed a kick in my lower back.
Pain exploded along my spine, but I gritted my teeth and followed through with the movement.
Popping to my full height again, I flipped the pommel in my hand, indigo stone in the hilt flashing, and faced off with the second, trying to hide the hitch in my stride.
He circled me, another comrade joining him.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted the one Sylaira had rammed rising to his feet.
Finish this. End them now. Your mate breathes because you do. If you falter, she falls.
Thunder rumbled overhead. When lightning flashed, I burst into action, attacking the two at once.
The first swung his sword, putting more power into the strike than necessary and leaving his weight off balance when I jumped out of reach.
Twisting, I kicked his legs out from under him.
Air whooshed from his lungs as he smacked the damp earth.
I stomped his face, bone breaking beneath my boot. The second strike caved in his skull and propelled me past him to the remaining fool.
The second one backstepped to dodge my attack, but I was ready for his retreat. With a flick of my blade, I slipped under his guard and dug it deep into his side. Dark red slick spilled out of his mouth as I yanked my sword free.
Sylaira shouted again, and I shot toward the wagon. Vaulting over the side, I landed directly behind the male slicing through the rope tying her in place.
My arm was around him a second later. I arched him backward, my height several inches above his, completely subduing him.
Sylaira’s eyes widened in horror.
Purple light struck a tree ahead of us, wood bursting to flame. Energy crackled across my skin as I dug a dagger into his throat.
“Guess you should have studied who you were robbing,” I crooned in his ear. And then, I ripped.
Ruby sprayed, staining my arms. Thunder crashed, drowning out the sound of his dead body hitting the ground. Let him bleed out on the road as a warning to all those who might dare attack me again.
The one holding the horse’s reins bolted.
But the need to fight, the need to protect, still roared inside me.
I whipped out a hand, white magic lassoing him. He smacked into the mud beside two of his dead comrades. I leaped from the wagon, stalking over to him.
He whimpered, and piss tainted the air.
The storm rumbled overhead as I gripped my dagger and sank to my knees.
“Please, have mercy,” he begged.
I laughed—a crazed, vicious sound that echoed in the space between raindrops.
“Goddess, sanctify me with your grace. Let no doubt poison my heart. Let no mercy be given to the wicked.” The snippet of the traditional Angel prayer slipped out of me, threaded with mockery.
“But there is no one more wicked than me. And I have never known mercy.”
With a harsh swipe, I slit his throat too. He gurgled, clutching at the tatters of his neck like his mortal hands could shield him from what I was.
An omen of death.
His movements ceased, jaw going slack as he drowned in his own blood.
I rose, heart thudding against my ribs, and surveyed the scene.
No one else moved in the mist.
The chain tying me to my mate vibrated with anxiety. Sylaira made no sound. No move to sit up. For the briefest of moments, fear twisted a knife in my gut.
Had she been harmed?
But I wouldn’t still feel her presence if she had. And her pain was my own. I slapped away the unnecessary emotion and raked in a breath.
Returning to the wagon, I found the most infuriating female in all the worlds, pale and trembling and streaked in blood. Vomit piled beside my mate, the acidic scent mingling with wet earth and metallic tang.
“They didn’t hurt you, did they?” I asked her, climbing onto the wood with practiced ease. It sagged for a moment beneath my weight, but otherwise held.
She shrank away from me, eyes blown wide. “No. Get away from me.”
I gritted my teeth at the taste of her fear. “Those males would have dragged you into the depths of the woods, had their way with you, and then sold you back to me. You should be saying ‘thank you for saving me, Vaeron.’”
“I wouldn’t be in this situation if it wasn’t for you,” she hissed. And that storm that flashed in her eyes heated my veins.
Goddess, how I relished her fight. It was so much better than her hollowness.
“I didn’t think Elessarum would throw someone back with their magic either,” I crooned, a teasing smile playing at my lips.
“Well, since I’m bound to you now, I suppose my rules have changed,” she bit out. But she no longer held herself so rigidly. The tightness in her posture eased.
Still, I kept my distance. As much as she flung wrath in my direction, she was still in shock. I’d seen it countless times, and pressing into her proximity right now would only make it worse.
“Aye, everything is different now.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out a damp cloth. “For your face,” I said, tossing it into her lap.
She swiped away the remaining ruby on her skin.
“I can clean that up if you’ll allow me close,” I offered, gesturing to the vomit.
Her attention flicked between it and me for a moment. I found myself desperately wishing to know what she was thinking.
No doubt the sight of me ripping the throat out of someone in front of her only confirmed her belief that I was a monster.
“Fine.” She edged to the far side of the cart, more mobile with the rope tying her to one side cut.
Maybe I wouldn’t do that again.
I dug into our supplies and found more clothes, using the rain to wet them and clean the area. The downpour surged overhead, diluting the crimson and assisting in washing it away.
By the time I finished, the space looked like the fight had never happened. I couldn’t say the same about our surroundings.
“Here, drink this.” I dug out a wineskin and offered it to my mate.
“What is it?” she questioned, of course.
“Wine. It will make you feel better.”
She sniffed the contents, then took a healthy drag. And another. And another.
I snatched it back, some purple dribbling down her chin. Without thinking, I swiped it away. We froze, my hand extended in midair between us.
Fuck.
I snatched it back and covered the gentle gesture with harsh words. “Too much will only make you sick again.”
Then, I straightened and hopped down, needing to put space between us.
Thankfully, the horses had calmed as I worked.
I found their reins and untangled them, speaking in soothing tones to ensure they wouldn’t bolt forward once I gave the order for them to move along again.
As I settled in the driver’s seat, the barricade on our connection eased.
I glanced behind me, finding Sylaira’s eyes closed, her hands resting on her stomach.
I prodded further, realizing she was slightly drunk.
“You know, I always wanted someone to protect me. Always from you, though,” she whispered, so low I was certain I’d imagined it.
I faced forward again, clucking at the horses.
“From my very first vision, I knew you’d ruin my life. Now I know how.”
Her words were a hurricane in my mind for the remainder of our afternoon drive.