Chapter 23
A n hour later, Alora was ready—her starfire was ready. Warmth scorched through her veins, feeling every nerve and bone, and what was left of her blood built to a boiling burn.
She had managed to remain calm, illusioning herself as utterly helpless—lifeless—on the forest floor while the moon shifted and the Ravens talked, paying her no mind.
But now…
Her fingers curled into fists, feeling embers spark inside.
Calling to her power, Alora directed her thoughts to each of the pricks sitting there. Kyr would be first. After that, she didn’t care who. As long as they were all as lifeless as she felt.
Inhaling a painful breath, embers ignited in her eyes as one of the blond males called across the clearing, eyes fixed on Rune, “Easy for you to say. You’re practically made from ice.”
She didn’t care about the meaning. Her embered eyes caught a glimpse of Rune.
Maybe the one in charge should go first.
Rune seemed bored. Ankles crossed in front of him, leaning against the tree while his ice-blue hand held a knife. Chiseling splinters of wood and dust, whittling a griffin-like shape in the stick he held. If he was listening, if he even cared, he made no effort to show it.
Kyr started, “I’d rather not freeze my balls off eating scraps for dinner just to sit there and wave at their sentries like a damn fool. It’s pointless to be stationed at the Wall. Can’t fly over it. Can’t climb it. Hundreds of years and no one has made a starsdamned crack.”
Then the young male said, “Not with the High King testing his newest weapons. Dellisaerin’s Wall will fall. It’s only a matter of time. And I will be there again as one of those that bring it down.”
Alora froze, and she reamed in her starfire fit to explode.
The rumored impenetrable ice wall.
She’d heard stories of it. And at one time had wondered how Garrik was going to get her over it when she had first agreed to move with the legion until they arrived at the northernmost kingdom. Like Kennazar’s wall of flames as high as the skies, Dellisaerin’s kingdom, too, was concealed by great and ancient powers the day Magnelis stole his reign. Only, instead of the evil powers abused by the High King, Dellisaerin’s king had saved his people just as the fire kingdom’s young king had.
“ You? ” Kyr cawed a mocking laugh. “Our little Arzen has been to the Wall?”
The young male—Arzen—snarled at the taunt. “ Many times.”
“And?” Kyr asked dryly.
“ And Magnelis is going to need a lot more of my kind before we can cleave through an inch. There were three of us there last time. It made little difference. Nikolouse’s powers are too strong. But we are highly confident it will happen. Soon.”
Nikolouse. Dellisaerin’s king.
Movement by the fire drew her attention.
Kyr had turned sideways, a leg slung over the log, as he cocked his head at her. “Looks like we said something of interest to the princess.” Both blonds and Arzen turned their heads when Kyr asked her, “What’s that pitiful face for? Don’t worry. We won’t be taking you to the Wall.”
Perhaps she shouldn’t have said it. Shouldn’t have drawn more attention to herself, but it was too late. She couldn't stop the venom spilling from her lips as she snarled, “You’re all fools.”
Rune shrugged like he couldn’t care at all. “We’re not the one half dead on the ground with no one to come save us, are we?”
“The legion will notice I’m gone. And when they do?—”
Kyr burst out a deep, guttural laugh. Throwing his head back as Rune lifted a brow in her direction, still whittling his stick. “It won’t matter.” Kyr snickered before a thin smile curved up his ugly face. His gaze shifted to Arzen. “No one will find you. Not even the High Prince.”
That’s what you think. Alora breathed a dark laugh, blood dripping from between her teeth.
“Something you’d like to add, princess?” Rune’s glowing eyes speared her.
A wicked grin twisted across her face. “I’m imagining your heads roasting over that fire.”
Rune grinned. “It’s a shame we’re selling you. Could be some fun having you around.”
“Once I regain my strength, I’ll show you exactly how fun I can be,” she threatened, forcing a flippant grin, and pivoted her head against the dirt with a wince.
Kyr smiled. “Oh, I’ve already seen how fun you can be. You know, in the woods. When you whored yourself to the High Prince. Then imagine our surprise when his harlot returned for more. Didn’t think royalty stooped so low to village rats.”
They … thought she was from a nearby town … watched her and Garrik in the valley? Heard her moans. Watched her High Prince kneeling?—
“And then we found you stumbling home through the forest not long after. Fucking delicious. Serving yourself up on a silver platter, begging to be taken like the desperate bitch we watched get off on the High Prince whore’s tongue. And here we thought he only had a mouth for the snake bitch.”
Alora bit back her rising anger. “No. You led me to the lake.,” she growled.
They burst into laughter.
Rune leaned forward. “You found us, princess. We had nothing to do with your little adventure.”
No … That couldn’t be true. She’d seen a darkened figure… Outside camp in the valley.
If it’d been Garrik, he would’ve known where she was. What happened to her. He’d have found her. And if the shadow wasn’t one of these males, then who had taunted her across the tree line?
Kyr’s face turned wholly evil. His eyes raked over her and took a predatory step forward. “Makes me wonder what is so special under there.”
“Enough.” There was no emotion in Rune’s voice. “You know we earn more when they arrive untouched. Ladomyr doesn’t enjoy his property to arrive damaged. He’ll do it himself.” Rune didn’t as much as twitch his eyes, sounding extremely bored.
“Look at her,” Kyr snickered. “She’s already beat to hell. He won’t know.” And twisted his neck, peering over his shoulder at the male with a grin. Another step had Alora shrinking into the dirt. Scraping her boots to unsuccessfully push herself away as her shaking fists burned.
He turned to her, licking his lips.
Alora’s panic flashed to Rune. His focus was unwavering, his carving knife between his fingers.
Kyr lowered himself and settled between her legs, forcing her knees wide as a hand gripped her waist.
“Hey, Kyr, leave some for the rest of us. I haven’t bedded a female in days,” Arzen laughed as his eyes dilated in their direction.
“Get your hands ? —”
Blood splattered her face, her open mouth.
Kyr’s face twisted with shock, mouth gurgling and spurting blood onto her chest from his neck like a waterfall. It dripped down his armor and over her, soaking deep into her clothing and leggings, before Kyr’s body crushed her.
Alora’s eyes widened, choking on the blood in her mouth as she barely had the strength to push Kyr off. Sapphires flickered from the dead Raven on the dirt, a blood pool growing around his head, to Rune towering over her. He knelt and ripped the purple cloak from the body before wiping the blood from his sword.
“Clean this up,” commanding no one in particular, Rune pulled weapons from Kyr’s belt and threw them aside. Mumbling to himself, he added, “Now that’s more like it. Should’ve killed you ages ago.”
No honor amongst thieves, clearly.
Spitting putrid blood from her mouth, Alora knew it didn’t mean a thing to him but still shot him a glare of gratitude.
“Don’t look at me like I saved you, princess. I’m more ruthless than any of them.” Rune flicked his knife, pointing to each Raven and then her chest. “I’ll cut your heart out if it earned me more coin.” He stalked forward, wiping the blood from his face before planting his boot beside her head. His eyes burned into hers as he knelt again and dipped his head inches from her face.
She curled her lip in a snarl, baring her teeth.
A low chuckle vibrated from his chest before he pushed up and walked toward the fire, ordering, “Drug and put her in a cage, then get some damn sleep.”
Rune was already halfway across the firesite when one of the blond Ayeleteans rose to his feet. Taking his time to stretch before he moved toward her. His rust-colored eyes fell on Kyr before he simply stepped over him.
“Get up,” the male commanded.
But her body refused to move. Not because it couldn’t, but because time had run out. If they moved her to the cage, if they drugged her … she’d wake up hours—maybe days—later. Somewhere she had no clue as to where she was. Never to be seen again.
“If you do not move, I will make you move.” Those rust-colored eyes glanced back to his twin, who’d stood and steadily stalked forward. A fiery branch in hand.
But her nerves didn’t panic. No ounce of fear rippled through her bones. She only reveled in the warmth of her palms and the pulse inside her veins as she watched the male’s every step. Not knowing how close to death they were.
“No,” she declared defiantly, breathing low as she shot the male above her a coaxing smile.
He ripped the torch from his twin and lowered it to her arm. “Last chance. Get up .”
Alora dropped her head to the dirt and lifted her hand, curling all but her middle finger.
Before he dropped it to her arm, embers ignited in her palms. Alora wrapped her fiery hand around the wood, engulfing the branch in her fire, and shoved it away.
The male’s eyes filled with horror as she pushed herself from the forest floor.
Alora’s entire body morphed into a living flame as she dragged herself to her feet.
Rune was shouting, pointing at her, glaring at Arzen.
But Arzen only bent his arms behind his head and closed his eyes. Then he leaned back, interlaced his fingers, and rested his palms against his dark hair with a wicked grin.
Extending her fiery arms wide, Alora took a step. “Haven’t you heard?” They stumbled backward as a voice like stars devouring the world declared, “I already burn.”
Her fists closed.
An explosion of flame tore to the stars, burning around them, scorching every surface and diminishing it all to ash beneath her feet as death entered the forest.
Above their wailing, someone else was screaming.
Only when her throat felt raw did she realize it was her.
Every damn thing these males had ever done—to her—to others. They deserved this .
Alora released another burst of starflames. Charring further into the forest. Feeling her powers rip through everything in its path. Hoping the Celestials would understand. Hoping they would show her mercy in the Stars Eternal.
Hoping camp would see. That someone would see.
Garrik … he had to see.
Every last bit of rage exploded out of her. Starfire lit up the sky—tore across it. Rattling through every glistening star as if she commanded them to gleam. And they didn’t stop rippling. Not until she called her stars and flames to calm amongst the ruination. Until her lungs turned to ash from her screams and tears boiled down her face.
Until it was over.
Over.
Over.
It’s finally over. Alora staggered along the charred dirt, gripping the stick still embedded in her side. Her legs collapsed, falling to her knees as she flattened her palms into the ash. It’s over. She didn’t need to be strong anymore.
It’s over. It’s over. It’s ? —
“Impressive.”
Her eyes widened in shock. Cautiously, her pale face raked to where the tents had been. Alora believed she was seeing a ghost. Because it … it shouldn’t be possible …
The male pushed through the heavy smoke, paced around the bodies, and tsked, “That shocked look on your face, it’s quite pathetic.”
No. Alora lifted her palm, calling to her fire, but that constant rush of burning flames in her veins was gone.
Arzen knelt and grabbed a dagger from Rune’s body, whose ice-blue skin was covered in ash in the ruins of the campsite. “You see, Marked One. I am a Made for Magnelis —a null. These fools were simply brutes. Soldiers. Expendable. We have plenty of those, their deaths mean nothing. Except for Rune here.” Arzen grinned and stabbed Rune in the thigh.
To her surprise, Rune groaned.
She watched as the young male paced with a pleased gleam in his eye as he knelt over one of the blonds. Chuckling, he drove the dagger into his gut.
He, too, groaned.
“Hope you don’t mind,” Arzen said to her. “I wanted to kill them myself.” And stood, gray eyes swept to hers. “And now that I know you have powers, which I have rendered entirely ineffective, you and I will be heading straight to Galdheir. Magnelis will find great pleasure in ripping you apart.”
Alora lifted her palm, pleading to her magic?—
“Try as much as you like. It won’t work.” Arzen’s attention fell on the last Raven before he turned and stormed to him, dagger in hand.
A shimmer of silver sat three feet from her. But Arzen had twisted his head over his shoulder, peering back at her. She didn’t dare trail her eyes to it for fear he’d see it, too. Whatever it was.
“So that’s all you’re good for? Shielding magic?” She let out a taunting laugh, throwing her head back enough to glimpse the silver without him noticing.
Perfect. Kyr’s weapon. The one Rune had thrown to the side.
Sapphires half-lidded, glaring up at the Raven as she shook her head, and taunted, “How terrifying. The High King’s elite? A Made for Magnelis. I bet you can’t even use that sword.”
His eyes darkened, and she knew she’d stabbed that precious male ego effectively.
Alora’s face dropped in illusioned regret. Pushing herself back a foot at his incoming tantrum and closer to Kyr’s weapon. And Arzen was either too young or too egotistical to see what she was doing.
Good.
She had watched the others tease him. Saw how he swallowed his words like he was the lowest rank of them all. A male’s ego being tarnished by a female? He wouldn’t let that slide. And that egotism was what she needed.
“Big scary Raven. Oh no, I’m shaking.” Another foot.
“I’m going to make you swallow those words before my sword shoves down your pretty little throat,” he growled. Taking a glowering step toward her, metal slid from its sheath, and Arzen clutched the hilt, knuckles white.
A brutal laugh bellowed from her throat. “Go ahead, I bet it’s not even big enough to do any damage.” Her eyes fell to his belt then.
Arzen lunged.
Alora did too.
A blade split flesh, spilling blood on armor and fabric.
Pinned with the weight of a mountain, Alora trembled as Arzen released a ragged breath. She felt the sting of his blade deep in her shoulder. But it was Arzen’s blood that soaked into her leggings.
Deep in his side, Alora’s blood-soaked hand quivered tight around the handle of Kyr’s dagger lodged there, daring to rip it out and let him bleed.
Arzen’s face blanched as her whispered breath crossed the shell of his ear. “Doesn’t feel good, does it?” And pushed him from her.
By some gift from Maker of the Skies, Alora filled with unearthly energy as she ripped his purple cloak from his neck. Wiping blood from her mouth before she walked to the remains of a tree, bent down, and found her shackles. Her side stung, but she gave it little thought. There would be time to heal, to feel, later.
Alora stalked to Arzen and toweled the cloak over her shoulders. “I don’t need my magic to drag you to my camp,” she growled.
A pitiful grunt was his response.
Clasping the shackles around his wrists, Alora linked the chains tight, so they almost touched. Her blood-soaked hand fisted his hair before she kicked him forward. “You will answer to our Savage Prince for abducting one of his Shadow Order , even if I have to put a saddle on you and mule us there.”
But there was another reason Arzen needed to return with her. And if she could drag Rune along with them, she would. But Arzen appeared better off, and Rune would likely be dead within the hour.
They had spoken about a weapon— weapons . More than one of Arzen’s kind—nulls—at Dellisaerin’s wall. Magnelis had created more slaves like Garrik. Working for him and his selfish gain. They had to know more. Whatever Arzen knew. Whatever he had already seen and done…
Garrik needed to know what they fought.
If they had Mystics who thieved the powers of others … then this war had just become a lot more complicated.
Arzen’s eyes widened in fear as if he didn’t know who she was to his High Prince.
Alora only smirked. “Yeah. That’s right. Now, move.”