Chapter 36
Tears streamed down my face as I hopelessly thrashed against the ropes. Blood ran down my arms and legs from the restraints cutting into me.
I tried summoning my dark powers to no avail. I thought of the rage that had consumed me before I’d set the goblins on fire, or the burning sensation that swept over me when Fenn had marked me with the rune.
But nothing happened. I felt nothing but hollow inside. It was as if the air here stifled my magic.
I was powerless.
Awareness crept into the corners of my mind, and I froze, sensing a new presence. A presence I knew better than anyone.
The faint smell of sulfur met my nose, and I drew in a sharp gasp.
Mal.
I glanced around, unable to believe it. It was impossible; Mal couldn’t be here.
But as I twisted my head around, I made out a dark shape looming near the entrance of the cave. The gleaming dark scales were unmistakable.
A surprised breath whooshed from me, and I almost laughed with relief. But Mal’s movements were slow as he crept forward, no doubt hoping to surprise the ogres.
“Hey!” I shouted before I could stop myself. The fabric in my mouth muffled my outburst, but several ogres stiffened from the sound nonetheless. I wriggled on the stone slab, trying to spit the fabric out, pushing it with my tongue. It slid down to my chin, and I shouted, “ Stop ! You have to stop this, or you all will die!”
A few ogres exchanged wary looks. The one in front who had spoken to me continued chanting, his eyes narrowing at me in suspicion.
“My power will obliterate you all !” I roared, my voice echoing and bouncing off the cavern walls. “I will destroy you! All of you! This place will burn, and I will only watch as the flames consume you.”
Two ogres shifted their weight on their feet, clearly uncomfortable. It made me wonder if they could understand my words, or if the shrill volume of my voice distressed them.
It didn’t matter. It was only a distraction.
Mal’s claws scraped on stone, and an ogre in the back turned at the sound.
I unleashed a scream, the sound ripping from my throat and splitting the air. The circle of ogres scattered, some diving for the ground, and others clamping their meaty fists over their ears. A few roared in agony. The leader surged toward me, eyes blazing as he tried to shove the fabric back into my mouth.
I only continued screaming, turning my head away from him. He slammed his fist into my jaw, and I groaned, my scream cutting off as pain split through my head.
Before he could shove the gag into my mouth, a dark shape barreled into him, tackling him to the ground.
Mal.
The dragon gnashed his teeth, snapping and snarling as the ogre’s thick hands clamped around his mouth to stop him from tearing off his face.
The remaining ogres sprang into action, rushing to their leader’s aid. I struggled uselessly against my restraints, desperate to help.
With a loud squelching sound, one ogre lost its head, and I froze, eyes wide. The creature’s headless corpse fell to the ground, revealing Fenn wielding his short sword, his expression twisted and murderous.
My breath caught in my throat. Fenn had come for me.
Fenn moved with lethal grace, his blade singing with each stroke, each powerful thrust. Black blood sprayed, pooling along the floor from the ogres’ demise. I had never seen the Midnight Prince like this before, deadly and unhinged, his eyes slightly crazed with bloodlust.
He was like a beast himself, terrible and magnificent.
A horrifying shriek filled the air, the sound of anguish and torment. It cut off abruptly, and I glanced around to find Mal had won the fight, his jaws closing over the ogre’s head. With great force, he clamped down, black blood exploding from the ogre as Mal ripped his head clean off.
The dragon immediately bounded toward me, using his claws to tear the ropes free. When they were loosened, I sat up, my back throbbing, and the wounds on my wrists and ankles still bleeding freely.
“Mal, what the hell are you doing here?” I hissed, sliding off the rock and wrapping my arms around him. Gods, it was so good to see him. Even though I knew he should be home, defending the palace, I was secretly glad he was here.
The dragons never flew outside our borders for fear of being attacked. The protective wards of our court kept them safe. This was the first time I had ever heard of a dragon breaching those wards on their own.
Mal had come for me. He’d cared for me enough to risk that flight, to risk his own life.
Gratitude swelled within me, so intense that tears pricked my eyes. I pressed my cheek to the top of Mal’s head, inhaling his familiar scent and warmth for a brief moment before drawing my dagger and joining the fray.
My limbs were weak and my body frail, but my blade was sharp, and deadly fury fueled my movements. I gutted an ogre, then slit the throat of another. I ducked to avoid a large fist swinging my way, then sliced my blade into the ogre’s thighs, bringing it to its knees.
More ogres poured into the entrance, rallying together and blocking our escape. There were too many of them, and unlike the forest, this was their dwelling.
We wouldn’t make it out of here.
Still, I continued slashing and stabbing, refusing to give up, not after Mal and Fenn had sacrificed everything to free me. I would die by their sides before giving up.
An ogre’s claws ripped into my side, and I hunched over, groaning in pain as blood bloomed, staining my already filthy shift. The creature’s closed fist collided with my skull, slamming me backward.
I fell to the ground, my head throbbing as darkness clouded my vision. I shook my head, trying to clear it, trying to see through the fog before the ogre gutted me.
I swung my dagger wildly, and when it met flesh, I shoved it deep, dragging it downward. Blood and intestines spilled out, putrid and hot, and the ogre fell. But one grabbed me from behind, his hand closing around my neck, thumbs digging into my throat and cutting off my airway.
My eyes bulged, and I tried to scream, to draw in a breath, but I couldn’t. My lungs were on fire. I waved my dagger, but the ogre was behind me, and I couldn’t reach him. Fire burned in my throat, scorching my insides.
Suddenly, the ogre’s grip released, and dark blood splattered my front. I gasped, the sound rattling and painful, but blessed air filled my lungs. I breathed in again and again, ignoring the white-hot knives in my throat with each inhale. Slowly, I raised my head to find Fenn decapitating the ogre who had nearly killed me. The Midnight Prince turned to me, extending his hand. I took it, and he hoisted me up.
“You came for me,” I wheezed, massaging my throat.
“Of course I did,” he said, his voice low and rough. His brows knitted together, as if the notion that he had rescued me was so obvious, so expected.
As if he would always come for me. No matter what.
Warmth filled my chest, blotting out the pain of my injuries, drowning out the screams and cries around us. For a moment, it was only me and Fenn, his emerald eyes locked onto mine, drinking me in completely as if trying to memorize my features. It felt like he was feasting on me, devouring me with his eyes, unwilling to ever let me go.
It only lasted for a moment. An ogre slammed into me, and suddenly, we were battling once more, grappling for survival. Fenn and I moved together, covering each other, intervening when the other needed assistance. We were a deadly pair, wreaking havoc and destruction.
But we were only two people. And the horde of ogres never stopped coming.
Fatigue and agony slowed my movements. Another ogre managed to impale its claws on me, slicing deep. I fell to my knees, my head spinning.
I was going to die. Fenn and Mal were going to die.
A brilliant white light filled the cave, burning against my eyes. Startled, I blocked my face with my hands to ward off the intensity of it, but the light continued to burn, searing into me, practically melting off my flesh. The ogres’ piercing screams made my eardrums rattle. I was torn between covering my eyes and covering my ears. Blood trickled down my neck, and I realized the sound of their screams was so powerful it was making my ears bleed.
I fell to the ground, crying out, the sound lost in the chaos of the ogres’ deaths. Tears ran down my cheeks, the pain so severe, I was sure I would die along with the creatures.
Then, quite suddenly, it stopped. The light vanished, but the echo of it still flashed in my eyes. I squinted, the glare making it impossible to see.
The air filled with a strange and foreign smell, and yet, I knew it. It was sage and lavender and cool mist. I had never encountered it before, but a deeper part of me knew this scent. It felt like a past life. Like an echo of a memory I once had.
Squinting through the haze still clouding my vision, I made out three distinct figures at the entrance of the cave. All around us, the bodies of the ogres twitched violently, black blood oozing from their now empty eye sockets. I stared in horror at the carnage, marveling at how something so brief yet so powerful had managed to affect every single ogre.
My eyes locked onto Fenn, who was on all fours, gasping for breath, gazing in wonder at the three figures. Beside me, Mal nudged my arm with his snout, and relief filled me. He was alive. Fenn was alive.
But… how?
Slowly, I turned to the three figures, who lowered their crimson hoods. I knew at once that they were witches. One had short black hair, the other had long, gray locks, and the other had a shock of wispy white hair surrounding her face. All three stared at me with wide, all-seeing eyes the color of lilacs.
“Dragon queen,” the white-haired witch said to me, spreading her arms wide. “Welcome home.”