21. Evanee #3
It screeched in pain, clawing at the dagger protruding from its eye, raking off its own skin down to the bone, bloody chunks flying as it tried to get the dagger dislodged.
With only one sword, Ryker advanced on it, ready to make that final blow, but it shrieked and lunged, knocking Ryker to the ground, snapping its jaws in his face.
“No!” I screamed, running toward them before I knew what I was doing.
Ryker roared beneath the monster, out of view. I tripped over something in the snow—his sword.
I grabbed the heavy steel and dragged it with both hands.
The pain from the acid burn became a dull ache beneath the adrenaline coursing through me as I approached the beast. I ducked beneath its swinging tail, coming up beside it while it was distracted, as Ryker held it at bay, its teeth locked around the blade of his other sword.
Ryker released a guttural sound as he fought to keep those poisonous teeth away from him. The beast pushed harder, the blade cutting into its mouth and cheeks as it pushed, and pushed, until it surged.
Ryker’s arms buckled, and the creature dug its teeth into Ryker’s shoulder.
An earth-shattering roar from Ryker shook my soul.
I moved before I realized what I was even doing. It took every ounce of strength I had, my body being so weak from these three years of minimal food and movement.
I lifted the weapon—muscles protesting beneath the weight—and brought it down with a war cry over the demon’s neck.
It cried out in rage, instantly releasing Ryker as it staggered to the side. I tried to pull the sword free, but it was stuck in bone and cartilage, ripped away with the beast as it clawed at the back of its neck.
It was enough of a distraction for Ryker to push himself up with his free sword still in hand. He stalked toward the screeching creature and swung for it with brutal precision, his blade cleaving through sinew and bone in one swing.
Black blood sprayed across the white snow and Ryker as the beast’s head rolled along the ground.
Its body twitched, then fell still.
Ryker staggered back, the tip of his sword dragging along the ground as blood rushed from the new jagged wound on his shoulder.
He ignored it as his silver gaze locked on me, pain etched in his face as he scrutinized my body.
His eyes landed on the place I hit my head, then on my shoulder where the acid had hit.
“How bad are you hurt?” he rasped, voice gritty and deeper in his form.
The power that emanated from him made my toes curl. Just like the night I met him.
“Did it bite you?" he asked, a hint of panic cutting through.
I shook my head, my teeth clacking together as adrenaline slowly left my body. The freezing rain dissipated, but I’d already been soaked through. The wet, blonde strands of hair stuck to my face and plastered down my back.
He limped toward the monster’s body—wings tucked in tight and tail flicking—to the sword that fell free with the head, wincing as he bent to pick it up. He wiped it on his leg and used his good arm to sheath both swords.
He stretched out his wings, and I shamelessly gawked.
He was the night sky—white specs shining bright among the dark like starlight.
I wanted to reach out and touch his wings—run my fingers over the leather expanse.
He rotated his shoulder, muttering curses, tail still flicking side to side behind him.
It made me think of a cat back at Castle Aurelia, lazily flicking its tail as it watched the fish in the river.
Muscles rippled as he rolled his neck, droplets of water and black gore dripping from the tips of his hair down his neck. He turned his head sideways, catching my stare with those eerily bright eyes. I stumbled, not daring to go closer, even though I wanted to.
Hooves pounded past me.
“Luna!” I called.
She charged straight for him. He turned, smiling at her. Luna skidded to a halt in the mud, prancing around giddily. Ryker ran a taloned hand down her muzzle before kneeling and pressing his forehead against hers. She looked at peace with him.
I started toward him again, until his attention returned to me. His face was just as beautiful and alluring in his Gargoyle form as when he was in his human form—sharp jawline, high cheekbones, and those damn eyes.
Death would have found me today, had it not been for him. My gaze inadvertently flicked to the steaming carcass before settling on him again. He risked everything coming here, but he came anyway.
For me.
“Ryker,” I whispered.
I wanted to thank him. To throw my arms around him. To smack him for not just telling me we were the same. Bastard. Instead, I stayed rooted to the spot, shaking from the cold, leaving his name hanging in the air between us.
He took a step toward me.
My pulse quickened.
His head snapped to the trees beyond—he moved back. My throat tightened—You can’t go, I wanted to scream.
But I didn’t.
I barely breathed as those predatory eyes landed on me.
“Go. Now. I’ll come for you.” His words came out in a growl, and before I could respond, he pushed off from the ground and with a powerful beat of his wings, he was gone.