Chapter Thirty-Two #2
“This ends today, foolish Prince,” Vapula snarled. “You have been a thorn in my side for two centuries. I will much enjoy the moment your kingdom bows to mine!”
Sitri abandoned his fighting stance, stretching his arms as Zephyr struggled to balance on shaking feet.
The Prince pointed a dagger and laughed.
“If this is the best legate you have to succeed me, I don’t think it will be my kingdom that bows.
He fights worse than Tempest and has only half the charm. ”
It was an attempt to goad, to fan the flames of desire, and it worked. Bloodlust thickened in the air around his enemies, so heavy it threatened to choke out their reason.
Vapula tightened both hands on his sword. Zephyr collected one of his fallen blades. I locked my fingers between the links of my chain, and Sitri drew a second dagger from his belt.
When the demons sprang into action, I charged forward to meet them.
Vapula lunged at Sitri, the Duke’s sword spearing empty air as he darted past. By the time Vapula turned, the Prince had already engaged.
Sitri lunged, dagger connecting with Zephyr’s cheek, reopening the wound he’d dealt back on his manor.
The Prince moved quick as lightning, delivering well-timed blows that forced the legate backward, ever closer to the platform’s edge.
Vapula was quick in his pursuit, only to halt when my feet slapped stone behind him.
He reeled around, sword aimed to slash across my chest. I barely raised my wrists in time. Metal scraped against metal, his weapon clashing against my shackles.
“Any last words?” Sitri asked.
In the corner of my vision, I could make out Zephyr, heels hanging over empty air at the edge of the cliff, Sitri’s dagger pressed to his chest.
“J-just a moment!” Zephyr cried. Then, his terrified wail pierced the air.
Vapula lunged, teeth bared, saber aimed at my shoulder. I tried to sidestep it, but wasn’t fast enough. Its tip tore thin tulle, splitting my skin with a sting, raising a crimson line where he grazed me—not a deep wound, but a wound nonetheless.
“Your woman bleeds, Sitri!” Vapula shouted as I ducked beneath his blade. “Come and get her before it’s too late!”
“I can handle myself,” I snarled through clenched teeth.
I gripped the chain and sought to raise it, only to be struck by a blow from the side. This time, it wasn’t Vapula’s.
Sitri crashed into me, pushing me out of the brawl. A slash aimed at my throat caught Sitri in the chest. A sharp jerk pierced his chain armor, sinking barbs into the padded silk below, making Sitri hiss in pain as Vapula unsteadied him.
When I hit the ground, the impact left me gasping, demons still dancing above.
The shadows they cast drew my eye to a glittering silver blade—Zephyr’s remaining dagger, with its serrated edge, lying just beyond the battle.
I looked up to see Vapula land another strike.
His sword was too long, Sitri’s daggers too short to find gaps in the Duke’s armor.
The more wounds he took, the sloppier his fighting became.
It wouldn’t be long until Vapula overwhelmed him.
With one last glance at Zephyr’s abandoned dagger, I knew what I had to do. I dragged myself across the ground, careful to avoid stomping, booted feet. My bound hands closed around the weapon’s hilt. It felt light and lethal in my hands.
I stood. Vapula turned his back on me, dismissing me as a threat. It was Sitri he wanted; I could taste it in the air, the longing to end the Prince of Lust and Lies. I’d make that unyielding desire his downfall.
“I’ve waited two hundred years for this,” Vapula shouted. “I’ll end you myself if I have to, consequences be damned, and I’ll make your concubine watch as the light leaves your eyes!”
“Like hell you will,” I whispered under my breath.
I only had one chance to guide my strike true. Sitri’s dagger caught between the serrations of Vapula’s sword. A well-timed jerk disarmed the Prince. Vapula raised his saber, aiming for a lethal blow. With a deep breath, I clasped the dagger tight in my hands and charged.
There. His armor didn’t cover him there, just below his belt.
Chain clanking, feet slapping stone, I sprinted for Vapula.
The sound served as a warning and stopped his sword inches from Sitri’s throat.
The Duke whipped around to face me. His blade found a new target.
We lunged at one another, fangs bared, weapons gleaming, wills steeled.
In an instant, blood stained the battlefield.
Blinding pain tore through me. The vibrations of metal splitting my ribcage filled my chest, echoed deep into my core.
My own blade met its mark in Vapula’s gut, and he hesitated—just for a moment, just long enough for me to tear the dagger along his stomach, a maneuver I’d once been victim to, now manifested as revenge.
I pulled it free. With it came gnarled viscera and a shower of blood.
Vapula drew a shuddering breath, his eyes wide.
Clutching the near-fatal wound, he fell to his knees.
I cast the dagger to the side and readied the chain in my hands. Wet warmth gushed from my wound, flowing down my stomach like a waterfall. The sword still impaling me twisted and tore, raking across my insides as I moved. It was agony, but I’d endure it for a few moments longer.
I’d waited seven long years for this, and I’d have it, at any cost.
“Until the darkness kills the light, Vapula—until the heavens cease to burn!”
“Lillia, wait!”
But Sitri’s desperate cry came too late.
I brought my chain down on Vapula’s head. My insides ripped, shredded around his sword as I folded in on myself. With a sickening crunch, the impact shattered his skull, sending a spatter of gore to the ground.
He fell broken, never to rise again.
At last, it was over.
The finality of the moment seized me like a vise. Sitri and I both knew what I’d done; that Vapula wouldn’t be the only casualty. Alone and far from help, this wound would prove fatal.
I’d made my peace with that.
I staggered. My strength failed me, and Sitri rushed to my side.
As I fell, he dropped to his knees and caught me, eyes alight with fear, hands shaking.
Every beat of my heart brought fresh anguish, fresh blood that flowed down my sides, running together with Vapula’s and Sitri’s.
Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, and I let them fall freely.
“I love you, Sitri.” Every breath was a struggle. My words came as a whisper. “I love you, and I’m sorry.”
Sitri’s face twisted. His fingers cradled my face, so warm against my skin.
The cold of the stone had never really left my body.
As my blood drained away, so did any hope of driving it out.
Only my chest held any heat at all, and it burned—burned like fire, searing upwards from the sword embedded in my stomach, running up my center and gathering over my sternum.
“You are going to be okay, darling,” he murmured, tears welling in his eyes. There was no deception in his words, except for the lie he told himself.
He believed it, believed I’d be alright… but I knew better.
Holding my eyes open took too much effort.
At last, I let them close. Familiar darkness gathered around me, hungry for what remained of my life, and I would let it feast. I’d known its embrace the night I’d died on the balcony, oh so long ago.
It didn’t scare me—even as it thickened, and I began to sink.
My senses faded away. The pain numbed, and though I faintly felt the vibrations of Sitri’s chest against mine, I couldn’t hear his words anymore. Everything dissolved, faded until nothing at all remained.
One last breath slipped from between my lips. My soul and mind went still.
I surrendered myself to annihilation. Just as death had done before, it opened its jaws and swallowed me up.