Chapter 65
Mora
A ball of fire slammed into the earth, flames crawling up the trees, making kindling of their branches.
Embers raining down like black and orange snow, searing Mora’s cheeks.
Gold eyes flashed in her mind while pain burrowed deep—she hissed out a breath, pressing a hand to her face and running after Imani. Calling her name.
Ash stung her eyes and each inhale burned her lungs, her shaky breaths pulling in more smoke.
What in the name of the gods was happening?
“Imani!” Mora called out again, her voice lost to the furious winds. They buffeted her curls, strands of long, brown hair blocking her view. She pushed them away, hurrying toward the tents. Praying Castellan and Eris were okay, and Jade was somewhere safe.
Shrieks clambered through the air, curling with the howling windstorm, the sharp cries circling Mora as if she stood in the center of the chaos. It was maddening. Her mind raced as she squinted, trying and failing to see past the smoke.
There was a whistling sound before another ball of fire hit the ground near Mora’s feet. It crashed onto the soil, sending a spray of dirt into the sky. Mora screamed as she was pushed back by the force, slamming into a thick evergreen, its needles tearing at her skin as she fell.
The air rushed from her lungs when she crashed to the ground, her head spinning. Pain lancing through her ribcage—she couldn’t pull in a breath. Couldn’t convince her body to move.
The fire was close. Too close. Consuming the trees and crawling toward her as if her bones were the only thing that would satiate its hunger. And through the smoke, she swore she saw...
Azure eyes. Gleaming as they watched her.
Dother stepped through the fire, his rich, brown hair falling over his forehead as he knelt by her side.
Was she dying, waiting for her curse to tear her apart and save her at the last minute? Or had she lost her mind? Mora frantically searched for the tether in her chest that would unwind her into smoke, but she could barely think. Barely feel any piece of herself.
“Treasure,” he cooed, clicking his tongue. “It’s always a pity, watching you suffer when you could have chosen something more. Something better.”
Black spots clouded her vision, the pounding in her head so intense she thought she might vomit. Mora gasped for air, barely managing a whimper. Tears spilling down her cheeks.
“Shh.” Dother slid his fingers through her tears, following the curve of her jaw until his thumb found her bottom lip. “Your antics have gotten out of hand, and it’s time you face consequences.”
Sweat beaded on her brow, her heart pounding in her chest. When Mora blinked, the world shifted, flames and trees slipping away until she was lying on cold black tiles, staring up at rumpled silk sheets and the blinding blue eyes she hated with all her being.
Dother pulled her into his lap, brushing his rough hands through her curls, a knowing grin on his face. An icy burn raged in her lungs, each attempted breath yielding nothing.
“Next time you decide to fuck someone else, Treasure, remember this moment.” He leaned closer, closing his eyes and pressing a kiss to her forehead, chuckling softly when she shuddered in his arms.
“Mora!” someone screamed, flashes of orange and green swaying all around them.
A divot appeared on Dother’s cheek, his jaw working. “I never wanted this,” he said, pulling her closer so her head rested on his shoulder, his fine woolen tunic too soft against her heated skin.
“Mora!” someone yelled again. It was a masculine voice, one she recognized well.
“I’ll always be your monster, Treasure,” Dother whispered, rocking them back and forth. The walls grew dim, flames flickering over gray stone.
“Mora, where the fuck are you?” The voice was closer now.
Dother’s lips brushed over Mora’s cheek, trailing upward until they found her ear. “And you will always be mine.”
Dother’s room faded until she was back in the woods, sprawled in the mud beneath an old pine. Alone.
“I found her,” Eris called over his shoulder, racing to Mora’s side. “Come on, Vicious Thing, now is not the time to die on me.” He slid to a halt, crashing to his knees, brows drawing together when Mora flinched away. Hurt pooling in his dark stare. “It’s me, Mora. You’re safe.”
Mora coughed, rolling onto her side and hacking until she gagged. “He was here. I saw him.”
“Castellan?” Eris asked, squinting as he attempted to look through smoke and flames.
“He’s not far. Imani yelled you were here as she ran past.” He hesitated, his hand hovering over her back as she coughed again before she felt the gentle press of his palm, moving back and forth along Castellan’s soiled cloak.
“Dother,” she wheezed, hating that the feel of his touch lingered. That her body tensed, despite Eris’s kindness. “I saw Dother.”
A new wave of screams rose from their camp’s center, a horrific harmony of fear and pain. It pulled at the tethers of Castellan’s wish, cracks crawling over one of her ribs. Mora doubled over, moaning as bile clawed up her throat.
“You must have hit your head hard, Vicious Thing; the king is dead.” Eris pulled Mora into his arms, frowning when she thrashed. His hold tightening. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, those flames are too close. We need to move. Now.”
Her head spun when she was lifted, cradled against Eris’s chest. Mora pressed her face to his shoulder, sobbing while he ran, praying his crisp winter scent could chase the citrus away. She couldn’t hold this much pain. Couldn’t bear the thought of another broken bone or more blood on her hands.
“Fuck,” Eris hissed, ducking as a spray of icicles flew past. They were sharp, like daggers, water dripping from their deadly edges. He curled around Mora, slipping on the wet earth. “We could really use some of that smoke, Princess.”
Her nails dug into his tunic, Castellan’s wish snaking around another rib.
“I don’t want to hurt anymore,” she whispered against Eris’s neck, burrowing deeper into his hold.
Wishing she could run as fast and as far as her legs would allow, until she fell into the arms of her Fae and lived out the rest of her days in their meadow.
A pathetic fantasy... yet, somehow, it was the only thing she could cling to.
The one sliver of joy she could depend on.
The Fates determined to take everything else away.
“I know, Vicious Thing. I know,” Eris whispered, holding her tighter. “I’m sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am, but we don’t have a choice, Mora. Right now, we fight or we die.” He stilled, his muscles suddenly tensing. Arms curling tighter around her and pulling her closer. “Shit.”
“This is unexpected,” a gritty voice rasped. When Mora looked up, she saw him, a man with sandy blond hair dressed in blue leathers, idly swinging his bloody sword while he stepped into their path.
Smoke weaved through her ribcage, squeezing until the air was forced from her lungs, a new wave of agony rising beneath its furious grip. Mora shook, swallowing the cry as Eris placed her on the ground. He slid in front of her, his hand hovering over the dagger on his belt.
“Stay back,” Eris warned, a sharp edge to his voice that made Mora shiver.
The man snorted, “Whatever you say, Eris.” The glowing fire glinted off his blade when he pointed it toward Mora, giving an eerie glow to the blood dripping off its point. “How long have you been hiding the princess?”
“I’m giving you one warning, Caleb. Back the fuck away.”
Wrapping his hand around the leather hilt, Eris pulled his dagger free. He had no sword, his arms bare, the cloak he’d worn earlier likely left behind in Castellan’s tent. Mora stared at the ink painting his bicep, the snake tattoo moving as Eris took up a fighting stance.
“Ah!” she cried out when another bone snapped, the wish demanding she act, driven by the Halflings’ screams reverberating through the camp.
Mora pressed her hand to her ribs, shivering while they flexed beneath her palm.
The beast within her wanted out. It didn’t matter what she wanted—needed—nor how hard she fought against the magic’s demand.
Soon she would have no choice but to set it free.
To push everything down until only the monster remained.
Sucking in a slow breath, she searched once more for the tether within her chest, grateful she could finally feel it again.
Caleb stared down at her, his royal blue leathers lined with silver—just like...
“You’re a King’s Guard,” Mora said, amber eyes ablaze; why couldn’t more of them be like Castellan and Eris, and serve all of their people? It wasn’t the first time Mora questioned how deep the rot ran within their ranks.
Caleb’s smile was wicked, his chin dipping in the shadow of a bow. “That I am, Your Highness. Never expected to find you here.”
“Caleb,” Eris seethed, “walk away. I would prefer not to kill you.”
“Whose blood drips from your sword?” Mora asked at the same time, her voice dipping low in a tone Dother had learned to fear.
Her gaze roved over his armor—armor she wished to tear from his body.
How dare he commit such atrocities in her family colors?
It was tarnished with blood spatter, thick drops speckling his chest and painting his cheeks like gory freckles. “Whose blood covers your ugly face?”
Caleb’s upper lip curled, fingers flexing on his sword’s grip.
“My handsome face is covered in the blood of Forbidden scum. My men and I march to Moldenna, cleansing the lands as we go. We got word there was a camp nearby and took a detour.” Mora’s glare elicited a devilish grin, his dark green eyes beaming with pride.
“Someone needs to right your parents’ wrongs and reinstate the Laws. ”
Rising with the grace of a queen, Mora allowed onyx mist to slip through her pores and pool on her skin, coating her like ethereal armor. She marched past Eris, her lips twisting into the shadow of a smile when Caleb took one glance at her writhing vapors and stepped back.
“My parents’ biggest mistake,” she snarled, wisps of obsidian spilling from her lips and curling in the air between them, “was making you a King’s Guard.”
Mora dove as Caleb swung, the edge of his sword catching her shoulder as she tumbled into a sea of endless, glittering darkness. All he managed to cut was mist, tearing Mora in two only to watch her come back together on his next breath.
Wrapping herself around his arm, Mora tugged until she felt a snap.
Reveling in Caleb’s sharp cry. He thrashed in her grip, frantically waving his sword through the air as if that would accomplish anything.
When she jerked harder, his hand spasmed, sword clattering to the ground.
Leather spaulders creaking when she curled tighter around his arm and wrenched it upward.
“Gods above!” Caleb cried, tears spilling from his eyes and mixing with the blood on his face.
Eris sheathed his dagger, whistling when Caleb’s shoulder popped, slipping free from the socket.
The man yowled, but Mora didn’t relent. Not until his skin tore, muscles unweaving under her endless force.
Blood—his blood—spilling down his side, rippling like a wave over his leather armor and soaking into his trousers.
His breathing turned ragged, a sickly gray pallor pulling the color from his cheeks. When the last bits of flesh gave way to Mora’s force, Caleb collapsed, blood puddling beneath him.
A sea of obsidian with gold glimmering like stars slammed to the earth, Mora’s furious eyes gleaming through the darkness.
When she walked free from the smoke’s embrace, she tossed Caleb’s arm to the ground, happy when bits of his blood spattered her own face.
Let his last moments show him how it felt to die at the hands of a beast, his lifeblood painting their cheeks.
“There, I’ve righted their wrong. Are you pleased?” Mora’s grin was wicked, her teeth gleaming. The power in her chest had calmed when she faced one of the threats to the Halflings, but now it bubbled beneath her skin again, driving her to act.
When Caleb didn’t look up, his hand splayed over his wound, blood dribbling between his fingers, Mora took a breath, ready to leave him to his end and face whatever hell awaited.
Then she looked toward the center of the camp.
She could see it now.
An army had found them.
Magic hung heavy in the air, bursts of Aegist blue sparking while plants and elements were wielded like weapons. Too many dead, cooling on the ground.
Even if they won... they’d lost so many. And they would lose many more.
A cool embrace curled around her, a new wave of onyx mist kissing her golden brown skin. She tipped her head back and found Eris watching, something shining in those dark brown eyes.
“Eris,” Mora said, before the smoke took her.
“Yes, Vicious Thing?”
She motioned toward Caleb, sprawled on the ground, his pained howling quieting to a barely audible cry. Something hardened within her when she took in the royal blue regalia one final time.
“Let him bleed.”