Page 196 of Dark Fate

"Well, well, well, the mighty Viking vamp-warrior himself," Azrael cackles, his eyes sparkling with sadistic delight. "Do you really think you stand a chance against me now that your precious little secret weapon has been drained dry?"

I want to scream, to rage against the injustice. I hate that he can see the weakness in me. Rhyland's strong, a force to be reckoned with, but can he stand against Azrael and his coven?

Bless his stubborn Viking heart; he isn't backing down. He steps forward, his body a wall of muscle and fury. "Don't push me, Azrael," he snarls. "Or I'll unleash my wrath, as you know and have seen."

Rhyland’s newfound power—Lightning Wielder—hangs in the air like a crackle of energy that sets my nerves on edge.

For a moment, I see a flicker of fear in Azrael's eyes, a chink in his smug armor. But it’s gone as quickly as it came. "Ah, yes," he drawls, smoothing his hair. "I had been curious about that peculiar ability and how a vampire like you inherited such a potent gift."

He gestures to the witches that flank him like rabid dogs. "You know, once you embarked on your little quest, leaving me to roam free, it dawned on me that there are many ways to flay a feline."

I feel my strength waning, my body growing heavier. It’s like I’m being dragged into the earth. I sway on my feet, my vision blurring, and then I’m lifted, cradled in Erik's strong arms.

"Rest, Little Huntress," he murmurs, soothing my frayed nerves. "I got you."

Even as I sink into his embrace, I can't tear my eyes away from the scene unfolding. Azrael's voice cuts through the haze like a knife, dripping with malice.

"You see, Moretemis needs to be brought into one realm to complete his destiny. And it just so happens that we," he gestures to his witches, a smirk playing on his lips, "can do just that."

"Not now that you've lost most of your hocus pocus, you pathetic fuck," Lucian spits from somewhere above me, his voice dripping with disdain. "Seriously, have you seen yourself lately? You look like a reject from a Harry Potter cosplay convention. And don't even get me started on your witch squad. I've seen more intimidating Girl Scouts."

But Azrael merely wags his finger, prowling back and forth. "Ah, how astute, Golden Boy. But alas, there's one crucial component I require." His gaze snaps to Rhyland, hunger lurking in his eyes. "And that, my dear Viking, is you."

Lucian's voice cuts through the fog in my mind, urgent. "Dani, if you can hear me, open the portal now. We need to get out before these magical asshats turn us into newts!"

A portal? He wants me to open a portal. But how? I’m so weak, so drained. I can barely keep my eyes open.

"He's going to take Rhyland as a sacrifice. If you don't want to lose your man, dig into whatever is left and get us out of here," Lucian urges, his voice uncharacteristically serious.

Sacrifice. The word echoes in my mind. They want to use Rhyland as a sacrifice to bring Moretemis into our world.

"So, here's the deal, Rhyland. You come quietly, and I'll allow Dani to walk away unscathed—for now," Azrael proposes, his voice dripping with false magnanimity. His eyes glint with calculation.

His words hit me like a gut punch. The thought of losing him, of watching him die in some twisted ritual, is enough to make my blood run cold.

No. Not on my watch.

I grit my teeth, summoning every ounce of strength. It’s like trying to spark a flame in a tornado, but I refuse to give up. I focus on the power that flickers deep within me, the embers of the inferno that once raged through my veins.

I picture my apartment at first, but out of nowhere, a wave of nausea strikes me, making me feel as though I'm adrift at sea, unsteady and disoriented. Vertigo sweeps over me, similar to the sensation of being on a swaying boat.

Then I can feel the portal manifest, a swirling vortex of light and energy, and I pour everything I have into making it real. My body screams in protest, every nerve ending on fire, but I push through the pain, through the exhaustion.

This is the only way. I have to believe in it and make it tangible—the vortex shimmers, solidifying as I channel every last drop of strength into it.

And then, miraculously, it’s there—a shimmering doorway to freedom. Azrael shouts in rage, but the roar of the portal drowns him out.

Rhyland's roar is a sound of pure, unadulterated rage. And then, he unleashes telekinetic energy that slams into Azrael and his coven like a freight train.

The impact sends our enemies flying, their bodies twisting in a macabre dance of pain and terror before slamming into the ground.

Erik races us toward the portal, his arms locked around me. Lucian's desperate shouts for Rhyland ring in my ears.

I glimpse Lucian's face, his eyes widening in horror, and then he’s a blur of motion, hurtling toward Rhyland. Erik pivots, and my heart stops as I see Azrael grappling with Rhyland. Rhyland's fists fly, his body a coil of fury fighting to throw off Azrael.

Time slows as I watch, helpless in Erik's embrace. I'm running on pure adrenaline now.

My heart pounds in my chest as I watch him. The fear of losing him, my focus narrowing toRhylandand the distance between us.

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