Chapter 72 #2
Something scraped across my cheek, yanking me back to the battle. In my distraction, my shield had dropped, and the mortal was clawing at my face. His nails couldn’t break my skin, but Blessed Kindred, it fucking hurt.
Taran’s sword slipped and fell as I shoved the man away. I reached down to grab it, and the mortal dove for me again and knocked me to the ground. He clamped his hands around my neck and squeezed with surprising strength.
Light magic sparkled at my palms, but went no further. I’d only ever used my magic for party tricks and threats. If I tried to use it to attack and failed, it would prove my father right that I was weak. What if that meant every cruel thing he ever said was right?
Suddenly, the mortal let out a piercing scream as glowing lines webbed across his skin. He began to convulse, and the smell of burnt flesh filled the air. Seconds later, he exploded into a blue-red mist of light and blood.
I gasped for air, my vision blurred with crimson. Had I done it? Had I finally proved my father wrong?
Nearby, someone snickered. “My sister told me you were going to get yourself killed.”
A hand closed around my wrist and pulled me to my feet. I wiped my face with my sleeve until my vision cleared enough to see Jean Hanoverre standing beside me.
“Iléana saw you,” he said. “She told me to come save you before that skinny little mortal took you out.” He looked me over, not bothering to hide his contempt. “Blessed fucking Kindred, Aemonn, can you not even shield?”
I glanced at the ground. The only thing left of the man who’d attacked me was a few charred bone shards scattered over the soil. Jean gave a casual flip of his hand, and five more people around us shrieked, seized, and met the same fate.
My heart sank. My magic hadn’t saved me, Jean had.
I threw on a sneer to cover up my shame. “I’m surprised Marthe let you and Iléana fight for Diem.”
He snorted. “You think I’m here for that half-breed cunt?”
I surprised myself at how strongly I bristled. Though Diem and I were on uncertain terms, after seeing her humiliate my father so many times, I’d grown quite fond of her. And apparently, a little protective.
“Iléana said we had to join the other Houses, or we’d look like cowards,” Jean said. He flicked his wrist, and three more people screamed and died. “Grandmother agreed to send a few useless Hanoverres we can afford to lose.”
“Then why are you here?” I asked. Jean’s strong magic—equal to Luther’s, he claimed, though he conveniently avoided any chance to prove it—was House Hanoverre’s crown jewel.
It was no secret that Marthe was grooming him to succeed her as Head of House.
It was hard to believe she’d risk losing him in a war.
Jean gave a sly smile. “I convinced Grandmother we could use the battle to our benefit.” He pointed across the fighting to a woman casting waves of magic into the shield above our heads. “You know her?”
I nodded, recognizing her as Clia Amraut, another future Head of House for one of Lumnos’s most powerful families.
“Her father’s been causing Grandmother trouble for decades.
” Jean held out his palm toward her, and black thorny vines writhed across the field.
Though Clia had a thick shield around her, Jean’s magic easily burrowed through it and wound around her legs, then her waist, then her chest. Clia’s eyes bulged as the tendrils tightened like a fist.
I quickly looked away. Jean gave a dark, triumphant laugh. “Looks like House Amraut will be too busy mourning their heir to get in Grandmother’s way for a while.”
“Clia was on our side, Jean,” I said.
“No one crosses my family and survives.” He gave me a long stare.
“You know, your House is falling apart, and now that Luther’s ruined himself by mating that mutt, Iléana’s prospects are open.
If you beg, Grandmother might take pity on you and let you marry my sister.
” He threw an arm around my shoulder. “You’d fit right in at House Hanoverre. ”
With a flippant swish of his hand, more deadly magic flew. Bodies fell around us, enemies and allies, and Jean watched them die with equal indifference. He didn’t cast a single spark into Ophiucae’s shield.
“I’m not really the begging type,” I said archly, shoving off his arm.
He shrugged. “You might change your mind when I find Luther. Once he’s dead, the reign of House Corbois is over.” He squinted in search across the battlefield, then stopped on a point behind me. His smile stretched to his ears. “I knew that blood sun was a good omen.”
A mind-wiped Descended staggered toward me. Jean raised a hand to kill them, then paused. “Since you’re so uninterested in a Hanoverre alliance, I’ll let you handle this one yourself.”
“We’re at war, Jean. Settle your scores after we win.”
“When the Kindred offer you a blessing, you don’t wait to take it.” He walked past me, clipping me with his shoulder. “Blessed battle, Aemonn. Maybe a Corbois will show up to save you.”
I stumbled back, nearly colliding with the approaching Descended, and swore when I saw her face: the green-eyed, blond-haired ex-Queen of Arboros. I raised my shield and scrambled away, but my pathetic magic wouldn’t last long against a former Crown.
“Come back,” I shouted at Jean.
He ignored me, already striding toward his target—and it wasn’t Luther. His eyes were on Zalaric, who looked dazed as my brother stood close and stroked his face. Taran’s shield held back a mass of enemy soldiers that had gathered around them in a frenzied ring.
My panic turned to something worse. “Leave him alone, Jean,” I yelled.
“Don’t worry,” he called out. “Your brother isn’t my concern.”
The Arboros woman stretched her arms toward me. I flung out a desperate burst of magic, the strongest I could make it. It shot toward her in a sizzling orb, then dissolved into her shield.
I dove for Taran’s fallen sword. Roots broke through the rocky soil to coil around my wrists and trap them to the ground. My light magic burned them away, but they quickly regrew.
“Jean!” I screamed.
“Are you ready to beg yet?” he jeered. His shadows filled the air, but they didn’t come for me. They pummeled the soldiers in front of him, clearing a path to my brother and his mate.
Taran’s magic was strong, but Jean’s was stronger. With Zalaric’s help, their shield might be enough, but my shouts of warning went unheard in the clamor.
Shit.
I had nothing. No strength to break free. No magic to shield the brother I’d spent a lifetime suffering to protect. No way to save the mate I’d sacrificed so much for him to find. I was seconds from death myself, with no help in sight.