Chapter Eighteen
Tovi
Riven diverted left, recoiling from where Tovi landed on strong, balanced feet. Behind her, Eldrick and Aramis fought vampyrs rushing from the forest. Chaos held it’s thorny grasp on the village.
“Leave, brother.” Tovi stalked towards him, holding her sword out wide. “You can’t win with such few numbers.”
“You’re right. I can’t.” A faint smirk painted Riven’s face in amusement. “Call them forth!”
Behind them, Ingrid whispered a word Tovi didn’t recognize, her tone like a snake’s hiss.
Screeches reached from above, and italogs—demons with leathery wings that shared a likeness to bats—dropped from the snow clouds.
The monsters ascended, aiming for werewolves lining the palisade wall.
The hairs on the back of Tovi’s neck stood, and howls grew louder in the forest.
“Madras!” Yennifer called. “A whole pack of them.”
Tovi’s skin tightened with cold—Goddess, Ingrid had summoned the creatures of darkness. But how?
Riven circled her as the battle shifted. Tovi trailed his footing, positioning her sword ahead of her.
“Mother and Father would be so disappointed in you,” he whispered.
“Nothing I’m not used to. They always were,” she said with gritted teeth.
Something flashed in Riven’s eyes. “Do you really wish to fight?”
Tovi didn’t hesitate. “If I must.”
“So be it.” Riven charged.
In a flurry of silver and white, sister and brother fought.
Tovi’s new blade felt good. Right. Molded to her hand as she twisted, struck, and deflected her brother’s attacks.
Around them, metal and magic clanged together.
Teeth clanked. Talons pierced. Flesh tore.
The sound of death and darkness beat against Tovi’s focus, and the scent of so much blood—demon, vampyr, and werewolf—perfumed the air.
She locked eyes with her brother, jade connecting with jade.
They were far too similar, like Tovi stared into a mirror.
But a lost reflection stared back at her.
Riven’s hands had shifted to talons, shredding his leather gloves.
Spidery veins surrounded his eyes, darkening the scar running down his face to an angry red.
He teetered closer than ever to a caillte.
So far gone, there was no reaching beyond and yanking him back.
The winds whistled. The ground trembled. As if the lands of Sorin agreed.
Their blades intersected, and both of them pushed, unrelenting.
“Are you truly willing to destroy this world to bring back Iona and Oli?” Tovi breathed.
“Yes,” Riven said without hesitation.
The new crest on his breastplate glared at her. A raven with its wings spread open, facing north as if it soared towards home.
Tovi’s mouth turned dry. “There will be no world to bring them back to if you continue down this path.”
“I care for nothing but holding my son again,” he snarled. “To kiss the wife that was taken from me. Love is a poison, dear sister. Us Verenas know that best. It is an infliction we cannot outrun.”
Riven flung his enchanted sword up. Tovi sprang back and brought her weapon across her body, deflecting his next strike.
Vampyrs drew closer, flanking her on all sides. Goddess, she was surrounded—
Eldrick tackled the closest vampyr to her left, tearing him apart with his werewolf canines. On all fours, he stood at her side, and united, they faced the enemy of Sorin.
The winds sang as they whipped across the village. Tovi ignored the whispers of the land. Snuffed the elation trying to course through her. No. She was in the heat of battle. She was Queen of Drystan. Nothing else mattered. Eldrick was an ally in this fight.
That was all.
She hissed, channeling her frustration into her next attack on her brother. They fought, blood of the same blood clashing. Two against one, Riven grew tired, leaving himself open. He slowed, allowing Tovi to step too close.
She screamed, her heart tearing as she seized the opportunity and drove a dagger into Riven’s thigh. He fell to his knees, shock bleeding across his face. She drew her sword to his neck. Metal pressed into flesh. His racing pulse drummed in her ear.
Do it, reason yelled.
He’s your brother, her heart begged.
Tovi bared her fangs, fighting the tears stinging at the edge of her eyes. If she faltered, she showed the werewolves she was weak. She failed her people, too. He didn’t fight to free them but to cast them into more darkness.
Tovi’s hesitation cost her. Riven pulled the dagger free of his leg and stabbed her in the side with it. She cried out in pain, faltering, and Riven escaped her clutches.
Eldrick shifted back to his male form. “Tovi—”
Riven whizzed behind Eldrick and planted the enchanted blade at his neck.
“No!” Tovi screamed, panic rocking through her like a bolt of lightning. She stumbled, not caring that the blade pushed deeper into her side. Warm blood leaked from her wound, but all she could think, see, and feel was for the male she loved before her, his life threatened by her brother.
“Let him go,” she seethed.
Riven laughed. “If only you could see yourself, so like Father, more like me than you think.” Eldrick shook in his hold, but Riven pressed the blade closer to his neck. “You’re her downfall, you know? She’ll never be queen because of you.”
Eldrick and Tovi’s green stares connected, and there was no denying the truth in Riven’s words.
“Oh, dear sister!”
Tovi stilled. She searched the battle. There. Visha marched through the conflict, dragging someone through the front gate. Tovi gasped. Lou struggled in her sister’s hold, red-rimmed glasses smashed, nose broken. Bruised and bloody. Her friend had fought. Hard.
The fighting continued while Visha stopped ten yards away and whipped Lou ahead of her. She positioned the tips of her black talons against Lou’s throat and pressed. One swipe across that vein and there’d be no saving her friend.
“Choose,” Visha hissed. “The werewolf or the vampyr.”
Tovi’s blood turned to ice, and her attention jumped between two people she loved.
“Where does your heart truly lie?” Riven whispered. “With your people or this wolf?”
This was what Tovi feared above all else.
Tovi stood at the very decision that haunted her nightmares.
What was best for her people versus what she wanted.
But she more than wanted Eldrick, and that feeling eclipsed rational thought and reason.
Lou was her friend. Loyal and dedicated.
A subject of Drystan she’d sworn to protect.
The gods mocked her as they made her choose.
Eldrick struggled under Riven’s hold, a growl vibrating through his chest. “Tovi, look at me—”
“Tick tock, tick tock,” Visha sang.
Tovi’s body shook. Her heart ripped at the seams. No. No. No.
Fighting slowed. No demons survived. Their dusty remnants twirled with the snow, landing on the dead.
So, so many. Tovi’s gaze jumped between Eldrick and Lou.
She couldn’t stomach the notion of either of them joining the stiff bodies strewn across the village.
Her entire being refused to. Goddess, what sort of queen was she?
Tovi gripped her stomach, not because of her wound, but because of the bile working its way up throat. She knew who she’d chose, and she met his gem eyes through the snow drifting on the wind.
“Tovi.” Eldrick shook with rage. “You don’t need to do this.”
But he was wrong. So very, very wrong. Riven was right. She was a Verena. Love’s poison swam in her veins as thick and wretched as the Blood Curse.
Lou sprang forward. “Never forget what you’re fighting for—”
Visha yanked her back by the hair, pressing her talons deeper into her flesh.
Freedom. The word sang on the wind, a reminder that yanked Tovi to the present. She refused to allow her siblings to rob her of choice, and she knew what Riven wanted more than either Lou or Eldrick’s death.
She inhaled and set her shoulders back. “Take me. Let them both go, and I’ll surrender.”
Riven’s eyes flashed with greed.
“No,” Eldrick growled. “No!”
“Fine,” Riven said, not breaking their stare.
He lifted the blade from Eldrick’s throat and backed away. One. Two. Each step was heavier than the last.
The fighting around them stopped. Silence and stillness bled into the battle’s carnage. Tovi inhaled the scent of death and exhaled defeat.
“Now, release Lou,” she shouted.
Her sister’s lips curled into a smirk. “I’m afraid this turn of events is far too boring for me.”
Tovi stepped forward. “Wait—”
“Don’t!” Riven roared.
Visha swiped her talons across Lou’s neck.
Blood splayed across the snow, and an air-splitting scream ripped from Tovi.
The battle began again. Riven cursed and retreated towards the gates. Tovi charged, but her legs gave out from under her, the dagger still wedged at her side. She yanked it free with a warrior’s crying, staggering to standing. Powerful arms wrapped around her, holding her back.
“Stop, Tovi,” Eldrick breathed. “She’s gone.”
“No!” Tovi fought. Raged. Broke. “I failed her!”
Words, touch, nothing undid her heartache. Her last interaction with Lou wouldn’t stop playing in her mind. Over and over, it consumed her. There was no later. No conversation to undo how they’d left things, how Tovi had treated her.
Visha kicked Lou’s dying form into the snow. She slunk backward and blew Tovi a kiss.
“I’m going to fucking kill her.” Tovi squirmed in Eldrick’s hold, but he didn’t relent.
“You’re not the only one in pain,” he whispered.
Werewolves—Yen, Bétar, Todd, and Lucy—advanced towards the gates, vengeance gleaming in the eyes.
Visha grabbed a lit torch and threw it into an oily puddle. Fire roared to life. It devoured the debris and climbed up the wall. Ingrid stepped forth and twisted her hands. Dark, screeching winds carried the fire further.
Tovi pushed one last time in Eldrick’s hold, and he released her. She charged towards Visha.
But it was no use.
As she leapt through the air, Ingrid’s danu closed shut. Her siblings were gone, and Tovi fell to her knees. Hollow. She was too tired to sob, speak, or think.
Lou’s lifeless eyes stared back at her. Flour stained the baker’s clothes. Her red-rimmed glasses lay broken by her stiff fingers. Gone. Her friend was gone.
But her last words to Tovi lived, carrying on the wind.
Never forget what you’re fighting for.