Page 134 of A Vow of Wrath and Ruin

The cold snow bit into his skin, and a rogue stick ripped a gash in his cheek.

“Got you now,” a voice said through the darkness.

Tharan tried to shake the stars blurring his vision. He stumbled to his feet, calling more spikes to his hands.

“Stay back.”

Five elven soldiers emerged through the darkness, tall and sleek, their armor shining in the moonlight. Tharan gripped his sword.

“Come with us, Lord, and no one will get hurt.”

A dire wolf growled behind him.

“Leave now, or I will have my wolf tear you to bits. You will not take me back to Elohim.”

“Are you really foolish enough to attack an elf on our own land?” The elf smirked, and tiny creases formed around his eyes.

Tharan’s palms wetted with sweat, his rapid breath turning to vapor in the cool night air, casting a halo around the ethereal figures. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“What are you smiling at, half-breed?”

“You forget, oh wise and ancient ones… this may be your territory, but I am king of the Alders in all domains.” The sound of creaking wood echoed through the forest. The elves looked around, trying to find the source of the sound, but it was too late for them.

Spikes jutted from the forest floor, skewering two of the men before they had time to scream. Their bodies dangled limply on the wooden spires.

This far from the Woodlands, Tharan’s power was not as strong as he hoped. He tried to call for more, but something was blocking his magic.

The lead elf let out a cackle.

“Something wrong, Lord?” He tapped a purple jewel on his headdress. “It’s a violet diamond pulled from the deepest depths of the Cheyne Mountains. Blocks magic.” He circled Tharan, looking down his long nose at him. “But yours must be particularly strong to have any of it work.” He snapped hisfingers, and Tharan felt the power drain from his limbs. He’d seen a stone like this once before.

“Fucking elves,” he whispered under his breath.

“Yes, you recognize this stone, don’t you?” Twigs crunched beneath his feet. “It’s similar to the one my sister, Lysandra, had.”

Tharan swallowed hard. Lysandra had a brother. This must be him. He’d been waiting five hundred years for this moment. “Cassius.”

“Yes, I’m surprised you remembered after so long.” His sunken eyes raked over Tharan. Tall and slim, he resembled his sister with his high cheekbones and sharp-cut chin. “Kneel,” he said in a voice as soft as tanned leather.

Magic swirled around Tharan like a snake around a mouse. His eyes darted to the wolf behind his back, and the two elves flanking him with their bows nocked.

“Don’t even think about it,” Cassius said smugly.

“Don’t hurt the wolf.”

“Come with us, and I won’t have to.”

“You’ll have to kill me.”

Cassius clicked his tongue.

“Now, now, you can’t do that.” He removed his gloves before sending his fist flying into Tharan’s jaw.

Tharan’s teeth came down hard on his tongue at the impact, filling his mouth with blood. He knew better than to let them see his pain. He’d been in plenty of fights with elves.

“Is that the best you’ve got? You’re growing weak in your old age.” He spit blood into the snow.

Another ringed fist hit his cheek, slicing his skin. He sucked in a breath, trying to dull the pain.

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