Chapter 22
“Hurry, my child.”
Energy pulses through my veins, and for the first time since the night I arrived in Sylverton, I feel powerful again. Not a burden. Not a mistake. But the woman I was born to be.
“Why are they suddenly appearing so often?” I ask.
I don’t mean to sound harsh toward my God, but irritation definitely threads through the words. Yes, the gates have opened for centuries—but rarely, and never like this. And creatures crossing into the mortal world? That’s a surefire way to get the Gods involved.
And the last thing Belial should want is the Divine meddling in his business.
“A shift has occurred. A deal was made that altered your world’s trajectory.”
“A deal?”
The crowd finally breaks as my feet hit the soft patch of grass, now coated in soot. I kick off the shoes the establishment insisted I wear and curl my toes into the soil.
“It does not matter. Send them back to where they belong.”
Lifting my thumb to my mouth, I pierce the skin, drawing blood. Even after all this time, it feels like second nature to drag my thumb across my palm and sketch the rune for the Dyaus. Wind bursts outward, tearing through the space and scattering the smoke that had choked the scene.
The fire still rages at the front of the crushed regional train. Blood is splattered across the remaining cars, a violent red against twisted metal. And then I see them. The bodies.
So many bodies.
My eyes widen, vision flickering between the carnage in front of me and that night seven years ago. The night I failed. The night I couldn’t stop what happened.
“Listen to me, please just listen. You have to end my life if you refuse to run!” They looked at me like I was absolutely bat-shit crazy. “There isn’t enough time!”
“We can handle this, Witch. There will be no succumbing to your tricks! You’ll curse us in your demise!”
“No! That… You’re all fools!”
“Foolish to have ever trusted you!”
“We all failed that day, Amarah, you least of all…”
Vendra’s voice cuts through the shattering edges of my reality, pulling me back into the present.
I inhale sharply, the air thick with blood and burning metal.
Beneath it all lingers that unmistakable scent of the Beyond—pomegranate from the gates themselves, and beneath that, the rot-sweet stench of the creatures that crawl through them.
Carcass and sunbaked trash. Death ripened.
The grinding of metal snaps my focus south. A Pyrehound claws at the crushed train car, its talons screeching as they dig into steel. Another leaps up behind it from the opposite side. Their black, spiked fur bristles, vibrating with each growl as they snap their jaws toward me.
I’m not built for hand-to-hand combat—no muscle for punches or kicks. Vendra can lend power to my strikes, but my bones aren’t suited for that kind of fight.
From a distance, though?
I’m as lethal as Kayn is up close.
One of the beasts launches itself from the train car, darting straight for a bystander.
I raise my left hand and level my finger at the charging creature. It’s massive—close to six feet tall even on all fours—but I have no intention of letting any of them get near enough to measure.
Bright gold energy surges through my veins, gathering at my fingertips. As if holding a bow, I draw back an invisible arrow. Only the moment I pull, it stops being imaginary. Flecks of magic spark and scatter as the string forms, taut and humming. I release.
It carries the same force that brought down the Werewolf. The moment the glowing tip hits the Pyrehound, it spears straight through its throat, cleaving the creature clean in half.
The second one is already on its heels. I dodge its leap by inches—close enough to feel the heat of its breath skim my cheek. I would survive it pinning me, but fighting a Pyrehound off my back would be the opposite of ideal.
“That was too close.” Kayn’s voice crackles through the bond, sharp with adrenaline.
I push to my feet and form another arrow as the remaining Pyrehound whips around to face me. It snarls, hackles flaring.
“Don’t give me commentary. Get the survivors out of the train.”
“What do you think I’ve been doing this entire time, little slayer?”
A retort rises in my throat, but I bite it back. I’m staring down a monster from the Beyond; bantering with that brute will only get me hurt.
The Pyrehound slams a paw into the ground, jaw grinding as viscous black saliva drips from its fangs. Its spiked fur bristles violently. Plumes of black smoke rise from it as the earth cracks beneath its claws.
The sound of rushing paws accompany a loud, terrified shriek.
I release the arrow and whip around. Another Pyrehound has latched onto the side of the train, ripping away metal. Beyond the mangled door, a girl—ten at most—cowers inside.
My thumb drags across my forearm, carving the rune for Terraquill.
I slam my hand against the ground beneath the beast. Golden spikes erupt upward, impaling it and hurling it several feet into the air. Dark, nearly black blood rains down.
“AMARAH! BEHIND YOU!”
I spin hard, dropping one knee into the dirt. My dress snags, nearly sending me crashing. And there, charging straight for me, is the second Pyrehound, half its head missing, jaw unhinged in silent fury.
And I know instantly that I don’t have the time to channel.
Releasing a breath, I watch the distance between us vanish—feet shrinking to inches—just as the half-headed beast snaps its remaining jaw open to clamp down on my face.
But before it reaches me, a blinding white light fractures the air around it.
The Pyrehound lets out a strangled whimper as it’s violently ripped backward, suspended for a split second before being completely decapitated.
Dark blood splatters across my face. My eyes slamming shut on instinct.
I barely process the need to stand before Kayn is there—towering over me, filling my entire world. His hands clamp harshly onto my shoulders, hauling me upright so he can search my face. Horror carves into his features the moment our eyes meet, and shockingly, he’s shaking.
For a heartbeat, something warm flickers in my chest at the sight of his panic.
“Are you okay?!” His palm cups my cheek, trying—failing—to wipe away the blood. His other hand traces along my jaw, gently but urgently turning my head from side to side. “What the fuck was that?! You missed the shot!”
The butterflies his worry summoned burn to ash instantly, scorched by anger.
“Excuse me?! I had to pivot to save the kid! What do you mean I missed the shot?!”
“You missed! It still had half a brain to attack you.”
“They don’t have functioning anatomy like us, dumbass.”
His jaw flexes. “You could’ve been hurt because you were distracted.”
My mouth falls open. “You’ve got to be kidding me! How dare you! I was—”
“Is he bothering you?”
A new voice slices straight through our argument, just as a silver pistol presses to the side of Kayn’s neck.
My heart stops.
I whip my attention to the newcomer. Deep blue eyes lock onto mine with sharp, assessing focus. He runs his free hand through his chopped black hair, brushing it away from a pale, angular face.
“I’d drop the weapon if you value your fucking life, boy,” Kayn growls, voice steady… like the gun may as well be a feather against him. “That will be your only warning.”
The gun cocks, and I gasp, nearly screaming, “No, no! He wasn’t! Please, we have bigger issues right now!”
The male tuts. “My partner just finished off the last Pyrehound and you handled the other two. Cleanup is all that’s left, and the authorities can handle that.
But you…” He shoves the muzzle harder into Kayn’s throat, and rage spikes hot and fast through my chest. I can’t risk grabbing the weapon—it’s clearly not some cheap firearm.
“She just killed two demonic creatures that don’t die unless you use magic, and you stand here belittling her? ”
“I’m not belittling her, you rat.”
Kayn vanishes in a blink—I barely catch a left-to-right flicker—then he’s behind the man.
“I warned you.”
His hands clamp around the guy’s head, and he snaps it. The crack is sharp, horrifying, final. The man collapses to the ground with a heavy thud.
My mouth drops open. He just killed him. Without hesitation.
My heart lurches painfully, then pounds back to life as Kayn looks at me with a half-lidded, bored expression.
Like this was an inconvenience at best. And the worst part?
I don’t care about the life he just took.
Not because I’m cold or cruel… but because the only thing I can think is that he’s safe.
That he isn’t dead, and it isn’t his head rolling down the slight incline.
That he’s okay…
And that realization terrifies me.
I want to blame the bond for it—Gods, I want to—but the way my pulse steadies with relief says otherwise. It wasn’t relief that he could still fulfill our deal. It was relief that he wasn’t gone.
His gaze drops to my chest, and I can’t help but wonder if he hears it; my stubborn heartbeat betraying every truth I refuse to speak. If he can feel the way it calms because he’s okay.
“Well, that was unpleasant.”
What? No. I cannot take any more surprises.
I whip my attention down to the body—the man that should have absolutely no life left in him—and my blood runs cold as the man moves. His hands brace against the ground… and he begins to push himself up.
Kayn slams his foot onto the man’s back, pinning him to the ground again. “Did I miss the spinal snap? I don’t think so… I definitely heard it.”
“Get off him.”
A female voice slices through the tension. It sounds familiar… but when I look at her, nothing stands out. Well, except for the fact she’s gorgeous. Blonde hair, blue eyes like the male, flawless skin…
And… are those actual runes inked along her arms?!
I don’t get the chance to study them, because she already has that same white whip of magic wrapped around Kayn’s neck.
“Stop!” I scream the word, channeling an arrow back through the stream of energy. It flares to life instantly, glowing hot in my grip, and I aim it straight between her eyes.
“This will kill you before your arms move. Please, enough of this! He’s with me!”
“Tell the giant to get off Rane. Now!”
My nostrils flare and I look up at Butcher. Of course, he doesn’t even care that she could slice his head off. His indifference pisses me off more than the danger.
“Kayn…”
He groans—actually groans—and closes his eyes. I don’t miss the way they roll upward like I’m inconveniencing him.
“Only because you said my name.”
When his foot lifts, I snap my gaze back to the girl.
“Release him!”
A long, tense beat passes before she finally lets go. The whip dissolves into thin air, just as my bow vanishes from my hands.
I exhale hard with relief as Kayn rubs at his neck and turns to her. “Just know that I allowed that to happen.”
“Uh-huh. Sure, big guy.”
Her attention shifts to the man, Rane, as he begins to push himself upright. She hurriedly moves to his side and cups his neck. “You alright?”
He clears his throat and then twists his head back into place. The bone, so close to breaking through the skin that I can see its stark whiteness, snaps back with a sickening, almost too-smooth precision.
“Oh shit.” The words slip out before I can stop them, and all three of them turn toward me. “A Necroth…”
A pit forms in my chest as I hear Vendra making a series of furious grunts and groans.
My attention snaps to the girl, who is clearly a Hexborn.
The scent hits me fully: mandrake and wolfsbane.
Damp soil, bitter roots, a sharp poisonous floral note.
I was forced to learn every magical ingredient—not because I needed them for spells, but because I had to understand them.
“My mother always said Yldarwrights were smart. Honestly, never thought I’d meet one.” She dusts off Rane’s shoulder and gives me a half-smile. “Nice moves.”
“Why… do you have a Necroth? That’s against our laws.”
She clicks her tongue. “No, it’s against Vendra’s law. Mundane law is what applies to us Hexborn, and you know that.” There’s no condescension in her tone, but it still grates against me.
“My name’s Yesenia.” She doesn’t ask for mine—she knows better. Instead, she jerks her chin toward the man beside her. “This is Rane, my brother.”