Page 107 of Cursed Shadows 2

Flames from lanterns and torches ignite the dark as more come, barrelling through the tunnel—but that light doesn’t help them, not against the thickest shadows swarming the chamber, spearing through Daxeel’s motionless body over and over. It blots blind spots all over the cavern, for even the dark males.

“The shadows,” Samick’s hiss is fast followed by the stab of a dagger into litalf flesh, “are—” a grunt as he rips out the dagger and staggers back a step “—killing him!”

Rune throws up his sword just as one comes down on him; a clash of metal and ice, and the light fae shoves his full weight against him.

“Dare!” Runes shout booms through the chamber. It’s lost in the shadows beating down on Daxeel. “Dare, where the fuck are you?” He boots out at the litalf’s chest, using the strength of his kick to send him cracking into the wall.

All he gets in answer is a coughing sound, one wracked withdust and debris. He throws his wild gaze around the dark for the hybrid, but even he strains to see through the brutal Cursed Shadows.

Samick spears past him like a faithful arrow. And with his sudden swerve, a confetti of blood and throats fly up into the air. The rapid thumps of three heavy bodies hit the ground.

“The anchor!” Rune’s shout comes again, this time with the added punch of a bone snapped in two. “Dare, where’s the fucking anchor?”

“Got it,” Dare grits the words out with a hoarse voice. He grunts, shoving himself up from the ground—the spot he landed on the moment the shadows blasted through the chamber and knocked him out, cold.

Rune ducks as the fire of a torch strikes out at him. The litalf wielding it like a sword is backed by two others, and Rune knows they have already taken out half of the litalf group.

But this one who wields fire, the same hue as her braided curls, she hesitates, and she’s a fool for it. Her hesitation is their acquaintance—and Rune just barely remembers her name to be Luna, a once-off lover of Samick, a friend of a friend.

But she’s no friend of Rune, and she fools herself with her caution, like she doesn’t want this, to kill any of them.

Weakling. Rune knows the one who runs up behind her is Ridge, a new lover of Eamon’s.

But this Luna still advances, and so Rune will cut her down as easily as he would a stranger.

Somewhere behind him, Samick lures the other three deeper into the Cursed Shadows, where they are all completely blind—and can only rely on their other senses, a tip in the scales for Samick, whose senses are unmatched by any other fae Rune’s ever known.

The wink of gold catches in Rune’s focused stare. He almost looks away from the torch-wielding female just as Dare’s favourite dagger is pitched through the air. The blade sinks into her eye, and she just grunts once before dropping to her knees, dead.

Ridge’s shout is hollow.

Rune turns on him, but the male beside him is the one whocharges—and as Rune throws his weight into his defensive strike, he only hears the grunts and cries from the thick shadows, where Samick circles and strikes out at the others.

Dare rushes by in a flash. His shoulder smacks into Rune hard enough to stagger him. But in the thick swirls of ink and tar and poison, Dare pushes against the beating winds of the Cursed Shadows. Lips curled into a snarl, beads of sweat are fast to glisten on his forehead, the exertion of fighting Mother herself. A forever losing battle.

In Dare’s grip, he keeps the phial of blood from the feisty halfling who got too close in the courtyard, and it glistens with beads of her blood, like rubies.

Dare hikes against the harsh winds fighting his every step, made harder by his hybrid blood. It’s less welcoming to him, his slender muscles less willing to reach Daxeel through the lashes of shadows, but Dare shoves through the pain of each step. With a grunt, he drops to his knees and crawls to Daxeel’s side, hearing bodies drop throughout the chamber.

The only reason Dax is still breathing is because he forged the bond. Deep in his body, somewhere, he’s awake, and he clutches onto that bond between him and Nari, the only tether that’s keeping his soul in this realm.

But he needs a stronger grip on that anchor to survive the Cursed Shadows.

Dare shoves himself against the beating winds until his hand smacks down on Daxeel’s inked throat.

The cry that runs through Dare is a feral one as he forces everything he has into that final drag of his own body—then he smacks the phial down into Daxeel’s mouth.

“Now!” Dare bellows and reaches his hand out into the punishing darkness.

Boots smack down on stone right on the other side of Daxeel’s body. Samick drops to his knees and grabs onto his limp wrist.

But it’s Rune who wrenches himself through the black storm and hits his hand onto Dare’s outstretched one.

With everything he has, Dare heaves his body back—and Rune is thrown into Samick.

One litalf is still alive in the dark. Ridge. The song of his sword calls out just before his weighted bootsteps punch closer towards them, like he’s only just found direction in the confusion of the whirling lashes of darkness.

Dare falls onto his side, panting as the strength leaves his body. Feels he’s been on the battlefield for a week straight.

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