Chapter Seventy-Four
KAEL
“You’ve outdone yourself, Rhy,” I say to Rhyven, swallowing down another mouthful of wild boar. I wash it down with ale.
“It’s my pleasure, my prince,” he inclines his head politely.
“Rhy, please,” I’m almost begging at this point. “We’ve known each other since we were boys. Just call me Kael,” I laugh.
His cheeks flush, but he smiles good-naturedly.
“Or if you prefer, you can always call him bastard, asshole, fool, or perhaps even a cu—”
“Daelen!” Seren admonishes. “No, you absolutely cannot call him that!”
The group bursts into laughter. Even Therion can’t keep the smile off his face.
“See, I knew I liked him,” Ronyn says, elbowing Daelen in the ribs in camaraderie.
“I say, it’s completely okay to call him any of those things,” Rubi pauses for a beat before adding, “when it’s accurate.”
“Which is often,” Merrik whispers conspiratorially to the group.
Rubi lifts a tankard, mischief on her lips, “Cheers to that.”
It’s been a long time since I’ve sat around a fire with my people. My mind drifts to Nalya, imprisoned in Maldrak’s dungeons, wasting away, likely clinging to life.
I shake the thoughts from my head. I’ve spent too many years not living because I didn’t feel worthy of it while Nalya isn’t living at all. But tonight, I let myself enjoy this. The company, the ale, the meat, the beautiful woman asleep in my bed.
I take another bite and feel a whisper at the edges of my mind. A gentle scraping against my mind, so weak, so soft, that I second-guess myself.
I take another sip from my tankard, the pulse at the edges of my awareness, getting more insistent.
Then, the tether snaps taut, pulling tight in my chest. Kael! Elyssara screams down the tether. Zak!
That’s all I need. She called my name—and his.
Something’s horribly fucking wrong.
Therion notices my shift instantly, “What is it?”
“Elyssara,” I say before drawing my sword and heading straight for my room.
“Right behind you, brother,” he says.
I don’t thank him. I don’t look back.
I bolt.
Lethal rage pulses through me, and the need for blood takes over.
I take the stairs three at a time. The door’s ajar.
I burst into the room and almost crumble at the horrifying sight in front of me.
Mottled skin blooms across her throat.
Scratches and cuts lace her thighs—marks from hands that didn’t belong.
Blood clings to her fingernails. She fought.
Zak’s slitted eyes land on me, and he moves to open his mouth.
He doesn’t even get a scream out before my blade finds his ribs.
I don’t remember moving.
Only my need for blood. My fury. Her.
I withdraw my blade. But I can’t stop.
My blade finds his chest.
His shoulder.
I slice through his abdomen, gutting him like a pig for the spit.
Strong arms wrap around my chest from behind, “He’s gone, brother.” Therion’s voice cuts through my blind rage just long enough to reach me.
Zak’s body crumbles to the ground and the world around me roars back to life.
I nod briefly, just to let him know I heard.
I drop my sword, blade clanging against the wooden ground, rushing to Elyssara.
Her leathers hang off her in shreds, baring skin that was never his to touch. I cover her with my cloak, shielding what he tried to steal. “Get out!” I yell, commanding the others who have followed, weapons drawn in preparation. “String him up in the village square!”
She’s limp in my arms, and I can’t help but soothe her despite knowing she can’t hear me.
“I’ve got you. You’re safe now. I’m here.”