Chapter 55
KAELERON
We wasted no time, delaying our departure only long enough for my sister and Riordan to don their armour, both of them choosing their lighter black leather armour that would allow them to be more mobile, and Rhyn to vow he would meet us at Wraith Wood with his army as soon as he could manage it.
I had changed into my own onyx leather, aware that in the chaos of a battle, my heavier armour would slow me down and I was liable to overheat in it, and it would take a toll on my strength and stamina after a time.
I wanted to remain swift on my feet and had no intention of letting anyone land a blow on me, but if they did, the metal plates stitched beneath the leather would protect me.
Saphira had been given a set of the same armour upon announcing that she had no intention of fighting as a wolf. Not this time. She would rely on her magic and her blade.
Great Mother, she looked resplendent in it as she tied her hair back into a braid and twisted it, pinning it at the back of her head in the same way Jenavyr had to deny her enemy an easy way of grabbing hold of her.
She had said I looked bewitching in my leather armour, but she was a vision in hers.
A dark goddess.
She pulled another metal pin from her lips and shoved it into her hair to secure it as she glanced at me, catching me watching her as I tugged on my gauntlets.
So much heat in her eyes.
A delicious blend of anger, fearlessness and need.
That last one surfaced as her gaze lowered to my body.
“We shall be home again before you know it,” I drawled as I swept my gaze down my body, a slow grin curling my lips, “and then I shall have you remove all this for me, and I shall do the same to you. I am very much looking forward to peeling all that leather from your tight little body.”
She rolled her eyes, but could not hide how affected she was by my words, or the fact I had not ordered her to stay here where she might be safe.
I knew any attempt to convince Saphira to remain at Falkyr with her wolves and Vaeleryn would be pointless, so I did not even attempt it.
Denying the consuming need to protect her, going against the urgings of what felt like a vital part of me, was a battle all of its own, but I waged that war, refusing to surrender.
This was Saphira’s fight as much as it was mine.
Lorien had marched the Summer Court army over the Black Pass, using the opening that Kalyn had given him when the Nightmare King had unravelled the wards so he could teleport his army into my court.
He had walked into my court undetected by me, something I would ensure Kalyn paid for when we next met, and had come for Saphira, to punish her for being a traitor to the throne of what was now his court, and for the murder of Sylvan.
She had every right to be there and face him, to be the one to cut him down and have revenge against him for what he had done to her, and to me, but goddess, it was hard when I looked at her.
She checked her throwing knives, nodding fiercely as Malachi said something to her and tightened the straps of the holster for her and then tugged on it, ensuring it was loose enough that it would not inhibit her movement but tight enough that any enemy would not be able to easily seize hold of the straps.
“Ready?” Jenavyr said as she walked over to her and checked her over too, tugging at straps and checking her braid, concern shining in her silver eyes.
It seemed every one of my inner circle was determined to ensure she made it through this coming battle unscathed.
Saphira blew out her breath. “As I can be.”
“You will be fine. Stay close to my brother.” Vyr flinched. “Kaeleron… not the other one… which we shall be having a talk about once this is over.”
“I did not know until only a few hours before we came to Falkyr.” I refused to let her storm into battle thinking I had kept this from her.
“It’s true. We only figured out it was Oberon when we were escaping the Summer Court, and Kael confronted him when he was helping Kael heal.
He didn’t know, Vyr, so please don’t be angry with him.
He was so worried about how you might take it and so angry with Oberon.
Don’t blame Kael.” Saphira caught her wrist, holding her in place, and Vyr looked at her.
And then at me.
And faltered as she sighed.
“Fine. I shall be angry with Oberon, but not you. He hurt you too. I am not sure I can forgive him for that.” She patted Saphira’s hand and the moment my little wolf released her, she looked at me again. “I will meet you there.”
She disappeared in a swirl of shadow flecked with glittering gold motes, and Riordan nodded and Malachi took hold of his arm, dropping into a black abyss with him. Falkyr would be safe as soon as they had delivered their messages to the leaders of the legions.
The first and second were to be split between their captains, with half of the first legion remaining at Falkyr to protect it and half of the second legion moving to the northern reaches of the Black Pass to protect the border there.
The rest of those legions would move with me to join the third and fourth legion at the western border, where they had already been stationed and had engaged with Lorien’s forces.
The fifth would be split, half remaining at Belkarthen to protect the southern reaches of the court and half moving north towards Falkyr. The fleet would support them. I did not trust that Ereborne would not use this turmoil in my court to attack it while it was weakened.
I held a hand out to Saphira. “Ready?”
This time she hesitated to answer.
Those fears and doubts she had hidden so well around the others came to the surface now we were alone.
“Meiryn… what if Lorien knows she helped us? What if she’s—” She shook her head and patted her own cheeks, huffing at herself. “Put it out of your mind. Focus.”
“Your sister seemed rather capable. I am sure she did not unwittingly reveal her part in our escape. I am sure she is fine.” I reached for her.
She blew out her breath, eased to a crouch, and pressed her palm against the ground.
Her eyes slipped shut, her erratic breathing growing steadier as power curled around me, as the trees swayed and the air seemed to lighten.
I waited in silence for her, standing sentinel as she sought a connection to the land—to Lucia—aware that she needed the comfort the goddess seemed to offer her whenever she was in turmoil.
That sense that the goddess was guiding her, that she shared a connection with the Great Mother, crept up on me again, stirring Arianell’s words in my mind and that feeling I wanted to deny in my heart.
That fear that if I stepped back and let Saphira follow the path Lucia was showing to her, that I would lose her.
But who was I to deny a goddess?
To deny destiny?
When she had given so much to me.
Saphira opened her eyes and pushed to her feet, and nodded as she held her hand out to me.
I went to her, lifting my hand and brushing the backs of the talons of my gauntlets across her cheek as I held her gaze and vowed, “All will be fine. Lorien will not harm your sister. He will not harm our court. I will not allow it, my queen.”
She smiled at that, warmth flickering in her eyes as she gazed up at me.
“You like the sound of that, do you not?” I purred. “My queen.”
She nodded and raised her hands, sliding them over my cheeks and around my nape, and luring me down to her.
“Very much,” she whispered against my lips and then kissed me.
It was not soft, nor chaste. It was an explosion of emotions, a wild and frantic outpouring of her love and her need, and her fear, all wrapped up in a desperate sort of hope that this would not be the end. This would not be our last kiss.
Our final stand.
I wrapped my arms around her and swept her into a teleport as I continued to kiss her, finding it impossible to relinquish her lips, bone-deep afraid of losing her.
As soon as we landed, before the shadows had even stopped curling around us, the sound of battle shattered the silence and I broke away from her.
It was worse than I had expected.
Thousands clashed in the fields near the forests of Wraith Wood, smoke rising in the air beyond them to pour molten rage through my veins. I prayed to the goddess that the villagers had made it out of their homes before the Summer Court had ransacked it and razed it to the ground.
A wave of white-clad warriors met a sea of black before me as I stood on a gentle hill, the place where I had ordered the camp set up when I had sent the third and fourth legion here under the pretence of training. A hill that afforded a view of the entire battlefield.
I scoured the Summer Court soldiers, seeking my prey, but at this distance I could not make out anything beyond white and flashing gold as the battle raged.
“Lorien won’t sit back and wait for this battle to play out its course.
He’ll be in there somewhere. He’s been training with the commanders so he can lead this army, and he’s going to do it from the front.
That’s the one thing I learned about him.
No one takes glory from him.” Saphira drew her short blade and scanned the chaos.
“But he’s also not stupid. He won’t pick an area where he might be overwhelmed or left without backup. ”
I drew my sword and pointed with it, towards the heart of the fray, where there was a bulge in the line between the darkness and the light—between Shadow and Summer. “There.”
She followed the line of my blade and frowned, narrowing her eyes at the white semi-circle flecked with black, and a flash of gold.
“There,” she bit out and reached for me.
I snared her hand and pulled her back into my arms, teleporting with her.
Landing close to the heart of that wall of white-and-gold clad soldiers who battled in a curve, protecting someone as they cut and slashed at the Shadow Court warriors who attempted to breach their line, and allowed some through for the bastard at the beating heart of them to kill himself.