Page 107 of Feathers and Thorns

“Yeah, thanks,” she replied, letting him assist her to her feet.

She looked around and noticed the last of Bao-Ren’s men had been slain; a few from Soren’s arrows and the rest by Rook’s blade.

“We need to get to my father,” Rook said, his mind back in battle mode.

“I can’t leave him,” Enara choked out. She turned to look at Baz’s body. If she tricked her mind long enough, she could pretend he was sleeping.

Her eyes traveled over his still frame and stopped when she noticed something sticking out from the thigh plate of his armor. It was made of a metal not found in Entheas. She recognized it immediately.

She bent down and kissed his forehead, reaching a shaky hand forward to grasp the artifact. “It seems,” she said, turning and handing the object to Rook with a smile, “that even in death, he had one last part to play in our story.”

Rook took the Oculus into his hand, feeling the power emanating from it. The buzz that normally surrounded the artifact was gone, the mating call diminished. His grip tightened on the object, and his lips curled into the hint of a smirk.

“Please tell me you and Soren can do something of use with this,” Enara said.

A true smile graced his lips now. “I think we just might.”

* * *

Adriel could feel the shift in the air, the telltale sign of a mating bond clicking into place. The field was vast, but his eyes found his son and the vile girl, Soren, across the field. He hated to admit that his heart lurched slightly at the sight. For a moment, he could remember how it felt to be back in the Architect’s quarters, Celandine wrapped in his arms, their mating bond tingling between them.

The sight of his son finding his mate made him feel ill. No matter how many lifetimes he had left, he would never find that again. Celandine had effectively ruined him, and he had forsaken all others.

He brushed off the isolating thoughts and chuckled to himself. Mating bond or not, they were useless without the Oculus.

He reached down to touch the artifact for reassurance, and when he found his hand empty, he let out an angry, “No!”

His sword came up as two of his sisters sprinted forward on the offensive. He cut them down without even blinking, their blood joining the burned field of red.

He stared down at their faces and spat on their remains. They were traitors, and even though he had known them for centuries, he felt nothing.

This is all Luscinia’s doing, he thought. He had seen her come through the gate, standing side-by-side with Abraxos, and it had made his blood boil.

He vowed in that moment to destroy all of his betrayers, and when his sword was coated in their blood, then he would kill Luscinia. She would watch each of them fall to the after before joining them, knowing that their lives had been cut short due to her treacherous actions.

She was on the ground, unmoving, and he couldn’t help but feel disappointed, his thirst for revenge unquenched.

The creature to his side took an arrow to the head and slumped to the ground. He ripped it out, and the beast made a wailing sound before the wound on its head healed and it rose to its feet.

“Leave none alive,” Adriel ordered, and the beast roared before charging into a group of Celestials, impaling two upon its knife-like appendages.

Adriel smirked, enjoying the bloodshed. It would be over soon, and then the rest of Entheas would burn. But he did not wish to celebrate preemptively. He would not enjoy his success until the Oculus was in his hands and his traitorous son was dead.

He could see Rook across the field, his snowy hair streaked with red and black, giving him away like a white flag demanding a ceasefire. Adriel could also see a girl with brown hair surrounded by bodies, one of which was the boy whose neck he had snapped like dried kindling. It had been a long time since he had killed with his bare hands, and he had reveled in it.

Something caught his eye, and that was when he noticed the sun glinting off an object that Rook was holding his hand over. To his disbelief, Adriel realized it was the Oculus. He watched as his son bled into the artifact, and then both him and the girl waved their hands to the sky. It was then he noticed Soren riding Obsidian.

His anger intensified as he plowed his way through the field toward his son. If Soren reached him, they could use the Oculus against him, and he couldn’t have that.

He ran, his body a blur, flying across the field, fury driving him. He thought the stupid beast had died along with Celandine, but it seemed the horse’s life force had connected to her daughter’s upon her death.

No matter. I can amend that, he thought, using all his strength to thrust his sword toward the sky.

* * *

Soren caught the flash of Adriel’s blade just before it sank into Obsidian’s side. He let out a strained whinny and began to fall.

Soren screamed as he struggled to keep them aloft, his wings flapping erratically. Blood was seeping from where the sword had embedded between the horse’s eighth and ninth rib, and his chuffs were labored.

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