Chapter Nineteen
KYELLA
Even in death, Barnabus somehow managed to look at peace.
That was the impression his familiar face left as I studied it through blurry eyes, my hand laying against his cheek as I knelt next to him.
He had said he would pass in peace—that his brain would shut down following his body.
While I wanted to believe him, his promises didn’t stop my heart from weighing heavily in my chest with the knowledge that he suffered at all.
A storm of emotions rolled over me, everything from guilt to heartbreak infected every part of me.
While I had avenged Barnabus, but the heavy sense of loss and mourning that seemed to suffocate my very being wasn’t any less.
The grief overwhelmed everything else as hot tears streamed down my face.
Anger coiled within me, making me tremble as a sob nearly broke from my throat.
I would never again talk to Barnabus.
Everything around me seemed to exist within an odd, lulled state as I found myself frozen, unable to think or do anything beyond this moment. If I was to keep my promise I made to Myrin—one that Barnabus had sacrificed his life for—I had to move beyond my grief.
So why didn’t I have the strength to stand? The strength to leave him after everything that he’d done?
“Kyella!” Elijah’s voice echoed loudly as the door to the room slammed open.
“Fuck, where is she—” Dakath’s words cut off abruptly. My gaze was locked on Barnabus, and I swallowed thickly as I heard their rushed footsteps. A large shadow appeared across from me, and I found myself wondering what the room looked like to them.
My men were seeing everything from me hovering, grief-stricken over Barnabus, Lazarus’ corpse, and the bloodshed and carnage from Malakai’s slaughter. Somehow, his death now felt like it had happened a lifetime ago.
Kolvar crouched down and reached across Barnabus’ body, tilting my chin up and drawing my gaze away from my friend. A surge of anger washed through me as he pulled my eyes away from the old god’s corpse, and Kolvar’s eyes darkened with worry, brows furrowing as he studied my expression.
“Darling, are you okay?” Panic was evident in his voice, and I tried to steel myself. Desperately, I wanted to allow an icy sense of numbness to overrun my anger and heartbreak of the situation, so I could give them a proper answer.
“Malakai is dead,” I explained, my voice tinged with almost no emotion before my eyes flicked toward the other body. “Lazarus is dead.”
My hand gently laid on Barnabus’ chest as my throat became thick with emotion, “Barnabus…Barnabus is dead. They are all dead.”
“Who is Lazarus?” Elijah asked, coming to crouch down next to me, as Dakath’s hand came to rest on the back of my head in a gentle and comforting touch.
“Lazarus is an old god. Like Barnabus,” I drew out and swallowed, reciting my new knowledge.
I shrugged their hands away, needing the space from the comforting touch I normally craved.
I didn’t need comfort right now. I needed to stew in my fury.
“He was influencing Malakai for some time, using him as a pawn to get what he wanted.”
After drawing a shaky breath, I continued, “He had been in love with my mother, and when she didn’t return his affections, he killed my birth father and her after I was born.
On that day, he marked me with the Evathrina necklace and had Malakai bring me to this castle after I turned sixteen to keep me under a watchful gaze–saving me for himself one day. ”
As those words left my mouth, a vicious sound fell from Elijah’s lips in reaction. “It doesn’t matter anymore, though. He’s dead,” I said before Elijah could speak.
Silence filled the space around us before Kolvar hedged, “You said Barnabus died as well, if that is Lazarus over there, is this…?”
“Barnabus?” I nodded. “After I killed Malakai and Lazarus appeared, Barnabus came to my aid. Lazarus was far stronger than either of us—he had the ability to use mind control, and he tried to turn Barnabus against me.”
“You had to defend yourself,” Dakath presumed, his voice gentler than I had ever heard it.
“Yes, but I didn’t kill him—Barnabus took an Evathrina flower and ingested it. He killed himself, so he couldn’t be used to hurt me.”
The silence that followed was heavy. Breaking the silence, I continued in an even softer voice, “He gave his life to save mine and gave me a chance to kill Lazarus. Barnabus had another flower, and I shoved it down the bastard’s throat and killed him.
I couldn’t have done any of this without Barnabus, but… ”
Kolvar’s voice was rough with emotion as he said, “Barnabus did that willingly, Kyella, because of how much he cared. You can’t put that guilt on yourself.”
Angry tears swarmed my eyes. “It’s not just guilt I feel, it's anger.”
Elijah pressed a kiss to the hand that he’d taken possession of, and the soft movement spurred me on. I knew if I gave into the comfort they were offering, I wouldn’t be able to do what I still needed to do.
“I can’t talk about this, not yet,” I murmured, hearing the distant sound of battle still going on outside. It was a blaring reminder that this battle wasn’t over—not yet. “I need to do something.”
It wasn’t that I didn’t want to be consoled, but I knew my resolve was weakening after everything that had happened. I couldn’t afford to drop further into my grief or into the many revelations I’d been told—not until the bloodshed was over.
Not until this war was over.
I stood shakily.
“Love—” Elijah’s voice was filled with worry.
“I need to do something,” I repeated myself. “I can’t have anyone else die today.”
Walking across the space, I grabbed my armor and Dakath appeared next to me, helping me silently fix the arm pieces that had been removed during the ruse with Lazarus.
Once those were secure, I grabbed Malakai’s ripped off and pummeled head, turning toward my men who were all regarding the mutilated head with varied reactions.
Elijah’s brows were raised in what I thought was shock, Kolvar’s eyes widened with surprise, and Dakath offered me a sharp nod, a hint of pride shining in his gaze.
All the reactions were something I would have been able to enjoy far more if not for my current emotional state.
Nodding toward the door, I focused my attention on what needed to be done.
Malakai’s head rested heavily in my hand, and I gripped his blood-soaked hair tightly as we passed the group of humans that helped us enter the castle.
Their shocked gasps and murmurs as they took in the sight of the head I was holding only distantly reached my ears.
The door to the castle stood partially open, vampyres wearing Malakai’s insignia lying slaughtered in the entrance. I had a feeling my men were responsible for their bloody ends. I stepped past the slaughter; the sight of the death and destruction only motivated me. I had to see this ended.
Walking out the door, I looked upon the carnage and chaos of war.
Brick and stone lay in piles, the infrastructure wrecked from the impacts of vampyres raging unhindered against one another. Blood soaked the ground of the courtyard, and mixed with the debris and bodies, the ground looked like it couldn’t even be walked upon.
The scent of blood filled the air, and my fingers tightened around the hair in my grip as the guttural screams that accompanied the sound of swords hitting one another met my ears.
The air seemed to vibrate with fury, and from a distance, I could see that our forces were continuing to push forward, overpowering Malakai’s soldiers as they worked their way from the harbor inward.
We were on the verge of winning, taking the streets one by one as Malakai’s forces yielded to ours. It didn’t even seem to matter that I stood with their leader’s head grasped in my hand. I should have felt a sense of victory in that, but all I wanted was for the fighting and bloodshed to stop.
“Stop!” I bellowed, lifting his head into the air, as my voice echoed through the space. “Emperor Malakai is dead—your ruler is no more! Stop fighting, now!”
Almost immediately, the humans who fought against our forces came to a halt, turning to look at me with shock.
The Tridian soldiers responded immediately, looks of shock and awe on their faces for the few seconds they were able to glance in my direction.
All over the courtyard, Malakai’s vampyres continued fighting, doubling their efforts as my forces took up arms against them once more.
“Thaician Empire, your emperor has been killed!” I yelled over the din of the battle—stomach churning at the sight of the chaos greeting me.
Everywhere I turned, my soldiers were beating back Malakai’s, all of whom threw glances at the head dangling from my grip, until the fight bled from them entirely.
“There is no need for violence; this war is over.”
I continued, keeping my gaze on a soldier of Malakai’s who stared at me with a fury that caused his face to turn red, malice emanating from him. “Any further violence will be seen as a direct conflict with me. Either kneel or be slaughtered, those are your options.”
I wouldn’t hesitate to kill those who threatened everything we had worked for—everything that Barnabus had given his life for.
“We will never kneel to you!” A furious voice rang out from my left, and I glanced to see a shadow of movement charging toward me. The vampyre’s features were painted with malice and murder. Kolvar’s arm wrapped around my waist, but before he could move us, the man’s head was sliced clean off.
Relief filled me, not at the death of the unnamed soldier, but because while covered in blood and more than a bit beat up looking, Tristan was alive, breathing heavily with his sword falling to his side.
The soldier’s head rolled in the dirt, and Tristan offered me a severe nod. He was alive, and this war was over.