Page 64 of Chosen By the Fae King

“Aeryn, don’t be stupid.” Lorne sounded livid.

The thing spun, swiping at Sofiya, and I shot an arrow at its back. It didn't so much as flinch. So I shot another and got the same result, only making it angrier.

Enraged, it grabbed a narrow tree and yanked it from the ground, roots and all. Lorne smoothly maneuvered, driving his sword into its belly, swiping and cutting.

Nothing happened. It acted like it felt none of it.

Oh gods.

It wasn't alive. Magic was animating the thing. If it were a corpse, of course it didn’t feel. We couldn't kill the construct because you couldn’t kill something that was already dead.

Another screech and it lifted the tree over its head, aiming in their direction.

“Run!” Lorne barked, moving toward Sofiya with incredible speed.

The creature launched the tree and I screamed. The crashing sounds of timber echoed through the forest.

I lost sight of them both through the dim foliage. “You fucking asshole!” I bellowed at the top of my lungs.

My brain shorted out, like the wild had decided to take over, making me take a backseat to my control. I couldn't let this monster go after anyone else.

The corpse-like thing bared its teeth, yellow eyes gleaming, pulsing with power. Wait, if it wasn't really alive, why weren't its eyes dead?

I dropped the bow and removed the quiver.

“Aeryn!” Lorne's voice rang out from the shadowed wood. I registered footsteps, sprinting closer, his voice getting louder. “Aeryn! Don't–”

His warning fell on deaf ears as the creature slammed into me with terrifying speed. Its razor-sharp claws punctured my torso before I even registered the thing was on me.

A gut-wrenching howl pierced the air as the beast let out a deafening shriek, its hot and putrid breath singing my nostrils. With one final jerking motion, it collapsed.

My head was between the tusks wedged in the ground, tusks that held the disfigured head above mine. I struggled to free my arms from where they were pinned, but it was futile against the weight of the creature.

Through the haze of pain and fear, I locked on the beast's one remaining eye. It glimmered half-silver, half-shadow, like a dying flame. The other eye was a gruesome mess of blood, tissue, and pus.

The dagger Nox gave me was wedged deep in the monster's orbital socket. Relief came fast as I realized it had struck true. But then I felt something warm and wet spreading across my ribs—not relief.

Blood.

A sudden awareness unleashed the pain. It roared through me like a consuming fire, fueled by the talons still embedded in flesh and bone. Unable to catch my breath, I began to fade.

And amidst the chaos of my fading sentiency, I heard Sofiya's cries ringing out in desperation. I would need to apologize for making her cry.

Assuming I woke up.

Fourteen

Aeryn

Sage hovered over me, brow furrowed in concentration as she secured fresh bandages across my chest. “Don’t move. I’m almost finished.”

“Sorry.”

“You gave us quite a fright,” she told me, pulling the blanket back up to my shoulders. “Those wounds were infected with dark magic. I've managed to purge it, but you lost a lot of blood. You'll need to rest for a day or two.”

I grimaced, pushing myself upright. “I can't. Sofiya. The trials—”

“Can wait.” Sage fixed me with a stern look. “Sofiya is fine and knows that you are, as well. But you won't be any use to anyone half-dead on your feet, especially not my brother.”

---