Chapter 40 #2
“You are not fucking leaving me, Kovacs!” Warwick’s shade burst through, my energy no longer able to keep him out, though he was becoming distant and hazy.
“We came into this world together, and we’ll go out of it together.
” The feel of his actual hand twined through my fingers, his frame on his knees next to me. “Take it all!”
He was demanding I use his energy—use him as an anchor. Prying my lids apart, I gazed up at him with sorrow. It wouldn’t be enough, and he knew that, but he wasn’t going anywhere, dying by my side.
“Warwick . . .” I choked.
“Szeretlek.” I love you. His sentiment was husky and full of many layers, going far beyond the general meaning.
Burrowing deep and claiming me. “Sotét démonom.” His shadow muttered against my neck.
There was no need to say more; I felt his response grazing against my soul, forcing my lids to squeeze briefly together at the intensity.
“Az én farkasom.” My wolf. My own claim wrapped around him, branding into his bones, marking him mine forever. In life and death.
My entire body filled with the adrenaline he gave over to me. I carried the past and the present, the dark and the light, life and death . . . and it still wasn’t enough. Istvan’s newly acquired magic was at a high level, stronger than many here, putting up a fight against me.
I tore through Warwick’s energy, nowhere close to what I needed, pain jolting his body.
Tears slid down my face as I dug deeper, singeing every nerve in my body. A howl filled the air, and I didn’t know if it was from Warwick or me.
As lightning hit the ground near us, I felt my shoulders hunch over.
This was it. I just hoped we pulled enough that someone could take Istvan down.
Darkness pulled on me when I felt another hand grip my right one, a body dropping down on my other side.
I looked over, seeing Ember next to me, Eli holding her hand.
Something about it triggered a more vivid memory of that dream.
“I had this dream. I didn’t remember it until now,” Ember yelled over at me through the wind. “It’s my magic in there too.” She swallowed nervously and looked at me. “We have to do this together.”
It was as if her words wiped away the fog and webs, letting me see the vision with clarity. It hadn’t been another version of me, or when he spoke of another, it wasn’t Istvan. The book had meant Ember. She was the one in my dream, and Eli was next to her, not a strange version of Warwick.
We were the power source, and they were our anchors.
Like the book showed us, they died and were brought back to life that night. We had been connected from the very beginning. We shared power; the same magic in the nectar was in both of us. We were family.
“I’ve helped take that bitch down before.” Ember gripped my hand tighter. “I can do it again.”
Slamming my eyes shut, I felt the power of the four of us come together. Linked in life and death, bound together in magic. Past and present. From continents far away, all our lives became interconnected on a singular night, like our destinies were always supposed to come to this point.
Ember and I yanked and pulled, taking on the magic that was being used to slaughter and control. Istvan let out a scream like his insides were being fried, but he didn’t let go of his grip, his need and greed overpowering anything logical.
“Nooooooo!” Istvan belted, a bolt of lightning slicing down near us. The wind howled, almost pushing us to the ground, before I felt something snap.
POP!
The balance of magic cracked down the middle, bursting in my brain and burning down my vertebra.
A cry from Ember and I tore over the plaza, our hands letting go as we crumbled to the ground. It took me a moment, my insides feeling hollowed out and scorched, but then I heard nothing but the crackle of fire burning.
Like the world had stopped for a moment, holding its breath.
There was no wind, no magic.
No death.
“Brexley?” Warwick struggled to crawl to me, his hands gripping my face, kneeling over me. This time it was my burned and broken body on the battlefield he leaned over. The man willing to die for me.
“Sotét démonom,” I whispered to him.
“No, princess . . . I am your wolf.” His mouth crashed on mine, raw and brutal, not hiding his emotions as he kissed me with vicious desperation. A cry of relief and love bubbled from my lips as my hands gripped his head. We were alive.
We walked through the shadows of death and made it out—forever scarred and haunted.
Someone’s coughing jerked us apart. My bones retaliated as I climbed to my feet. Istvan lay on the ground, blood pooling from his nose, his eyes fluttering open.
I moved, snatching the dead nectar up and shoving it in my pocket. It was empty now, but that didn’t mean it would be forever.
Istvan hacked and gulped, appearing decades older than he did before. His clothes were charred, and his skin looked like old, dried, crispy fruit. The fact he was still alive was shocking . . . that amount of nectar would kill a human.
But he wasn’t human anymore.
Caden came up beside me, his disgust and hate pointed at his father.
“So what now?” Istvan hacked, stumbling with pain as he rose to his feet. He brushed off his military suit, his condescending glance going to the gun in Caden’s hand, snorting. “You going to kill me, son?”
“Yes.”
“Please.” Istvan let out a laugh. “You don’t have it in you, boy. You never did. Brexley was more of a soldier than you ever were.”
Bang!
The gun in Caden’s hand went off, striking Istvan’s shoulder. Istvan stepped back, his hand going to the wound, touching the blood leaking out.
“Don’t underestimate me,” Caden snarled. “You created this monster. I tried to fight it, to keep it controlled, but now I crave it. Want it. The human Caden is no longer.” He tugged on the trigger.
Caden might have thought he was a monster, but he was anything but.
He might be fae, but he was the same guy deep down.
Good. Honorable. He thought he wanted to kill his father, but if he did, he already would have killed him.
The act would sit with Caden and rot him to his core until he was the very monster he described himself as.
With Birdie, I saw his happiness coming back. I would not let Istvan take that from him again.
“No.” I pushed the barrel down, Caden’s glare darting to me. “You don’t want to do this, Caden.”
“Yes, I fucking do.”
“Then he will never let you go.” I touched his arm, meeting my dear friend’s gaze. “He will haunt you forever. He doesn’t deserve to be on your conscience.” I repeated what Warwick had once said to me, understanding why he killed Dr. Karl for me. “He isn’t worth your soul.”
Istvan let out a sharp laugh.
“Oh, this is priceless. You’re so fucking soft. What a useless piece of shit.”
Bang!
Another shot rang out from Caden’s gun, hitting his side, bending Markos over. He spat on the ground, his chuckle growing louder.
“Not so easy to kill now.”
My fingers wrapped around the blade on my side, whipping it out. The knife hit the target, sinking deep into Istvan’s chest, the impact crashing him back on his ass. I was on him in a second, grabbing his jacket and pulling him to my face.
“Maybe harder to kill,” I snarled, years of abuse and lies crawling up my spine.
“But not impossible. This is for me and for all the innocent lives you took.” I grabbed the handle and dug it in with a twist. “For Caden and Rebeka.” I twisted the blade deeper.
His fingers clawed at mine, his mouth gaping, blood pouring down my hands, dripping onto his medals.
“And this is for my father.” I yanked out the dagger and drove it through his spine, making sure this man could NOT survive. “You lost, Istvan.”
Istvan went limp, his head falling back onto the stone steps of his fallen domain, blood staining the concrete.
I stood there, the distant noise of war coming to an end. Blood and bone scarring the earth. The dead bodies of innocent people forced into this all because of ego. What was that saying? When the rich went to war, it was the poor who died.
Fuck that. We had enough.
Though we might have won, it didn’t feel like a victory.
We lost too many.
“Kovacs,” Warwick spoke out loud, our link burned up for now.
He took my hand, pulling me away from Markos. We started to walk away, exactly like my vision, dead bodies lying all around us, fire burning, our boots soaked with blood. Hand in hand through the valley of death.
The Grey and The Wolf.