Page 93 of Claws of Death

One moment, we’re close to burning, Clio’s glacial magic exhausted and Kaira’s siphoning abandoned with the gushing wound on her thigh taking all her focus. The next, hard, icy rain batters the fire without mercy. I throw my hand over my head, shielding my face as I glance up for a sign of Ayna.

I didn’t realize what she had in mind when she told me to give her cover, but when she’d shifted, my heart stopped beating. And it started racing withfear. I swear it hasn’t stopped throbbing near exhaustion since that arrow nearly got her in the wing.

Left and right, flames turn into steam as the fires wink out, the rain soaking the ground beating them into submission. The Flames curse, but they don’t realize it’smyAyna who sent the wrath of the gods after them. If they did, they’d focus on the sky rather than relentlessly attacking the few of us still standing.

Tori is doing his best to meet every new opponent with a smirk on his face. I saw him like that in the Crow Wars where he stood against my own kind with brutal efficiency and unbreakable spirit. Now that I fight alongside him, I recognize the arrogance of the warrior for what it is: the last line of defense. As long as the enemies believe he has unlimited strength, that it’s that easy for him to keep swinging that monstrous sword of his, they’ll quake with fear.

Silas and Tata are fighting a Flame nearby, closer to the wagons, their sword and hatchet biting into the male’s armor with ease now that the fire is dying down. Steam rising from the put-out fires takes my sight, but I’m no longer being cooked alive.

We’re finally making progress.

The Flame in front of me goes down in a single blow. He doesn’t even manage to lift his sword. I duck and swing as another Flame attacks from the side. This is far from over. More than thirty soldiers are still standing, but their fire no longer gives them an edge. Within minutes, the ground is slippery with water and blood as we slaughter our way across the field.

At the back of my head, a small voice keeps reminding me that Herinor and Royad are still missing. I don’t want to accept it just yet, that they never stood a chance against the fire. The moment their wagon caught flames was a death sentence.

I should have been the one to attack from the air. Not the Crow who puts his life at risk, working against an oath he gave to Ephegos, and most certainly not my cousin. He’s the better male—would have been the better king had there been a Crow kingdom to rule over.

Pushing down the emptiness rising with those thoughts, I face the next opponent.

A part of me wants to glance up and search for Ayna, but there is little I can do for her from down here. She’s made her choice, and she succeeded. I only hope it didn’t take too much out of her so she can still fly herself to safety. Far, far away from this place would be my vote, but Ayna knows how to take care of herself. She knows when to ask for help and when to fight her own battles. She’ll survive this one. Shepromised.

I hold onto the thread that is the fae promise like my life depends on it. I won’t let go of it, just like I didn’t let go of the mating bond.

Sweat burns in my eyes, distracting me just enough for the Flame attacking from the side to get me in my shoulder. A shallow wound but it throbs like a fucker.

I faintly remember his face from the Flame estate when I tore everything to shreds in my monster form. How he survived with nothing more than a scar on his cheek is a storyI’d really like to hear—were it not for the battle raging in the background and the blade in my flesh.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again so soon, Crow King,” the male grins at me, pulling his blade out of my shoulder and shoving me back. I fucking stumble.

“Arebar!” Kaira shouts from the ground a few feet away. The male’s head snaps to the side. I use the moment to stab him in the ribs, but Kaira is faster. She throws her dagger right at the male’s neck, and it hits true, sending the male tumbling to his knees, and his eyes widen with recognition for a second as he realizes where the blow had come from. “See you behind Eroth’s Veil.”

With those words, she collapses, and I curse the gods as another Flame is coming for me. My shoulder screams with pain as I lift my sword. I breathe through it, ignoring the fact that the little part-Flame might have just saved my life and that I can do nothing to save hers.

Nothing but make this battle come to an end as fast as I can. We’re two Crows and one part-Flame down. Three Crows, if I count Ayna’s absence, but she’s forced the clouds down upon us, so she did make a difference in this battle. The biggest of us all, perhaps. Thick drops of rain are still slapping my armor as I cut my way across the space, drawing closer to the first wagon with every soldier I put to the ground.

“Royad!” I kick the corpse of a fallen soldier out of my way, sword lifted in front of my chest and what I have left of my power channeled into a thin shield. I’d tried to wrap it around Kaira earlier, but I’d have needed to stand besideher to make it big enough for both of us, and it’s more likely she’ll get killed in my proximity than staying down with her wound and out of the way. Clio is close by to help her should a soldier try to end her suffering before the battle is over.

Silas and Tata have cleared most of the space around the wagons, drifting over to the other front where Tori and Clio are doing their best to keep the soldiers at bay. Slowly—so slowly my head has a million chances to tell me there is no point in looking for Royad and Herinor, I make my way closer.

The canvas is no longer burning; the clean cut Royad’s sword sliced into the top runs all the way down the side. The two pieces of fabric don’t come apart, though.

A Flame steps into my path, slender blade angled for my throat. I sidestep him, twisting under his arm and slicing upward into his ribs, and pluck his sword from his grasp as he falls over.

Wherever my mate went, she turned this battle around. The fighting is dying down, and a glance over my shoulder tells me we’re winning. Only five more Flames are on their feet, and they are running into trouble when Tata and Silas join Tori and Clio’s efforts.

“Herinor!” I dare focus on the wagon. Dare take the final step and touch the canvas.

I shouldn’t have.

“Watch out!” Royad’s shout reaches me a heartbeat before a splash of liquid hits me in the face, and I know the stench better than I know that of my own blood.

Fuck!

The serum. Someone poured the magic-sedating serum over me.

The canvas is torn aside, revealing a wooden platform with a bench the length of the wagon, and kneeling before it, heads down and blades at their throats, are Royad and Herinor. Fresh blood is dripping from Royad’s nose over his soot-stained mouth and chin, and his lip is split. The guards standing behind them smirk at me as if they’ve already won, but it’s the female that makes the hairs stand at the back of my neck.

Her fire-red hair is all too familiar, as are the mild lines on her face.

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