Page 51 of What Courses Through Her Blood
“Did the arrows take out your magic?” she asks, wiping her mouth.
I nod, still reeling from the shock. “Did they affect you?” I inquire, knowing that while Lamias don’t possess magic like the Fae, they have other supernatural abilities.
“No, they only seem to affect Fae. It can’t last for long. No one has that kind of power,” she responds confidently.
“How many casualties have we suffered?” Although I haven’t witnessed any of our side fall, Drew might have seen more from her vantage point.
She frowns slightly. “Can’t say for sure, but I know we lost some when the arrows hit.”
The sudden stillness of the battlefield sends a chill down my spine. I can feel the magic pulsing around us. We exchange a glance, a mutual understanding flashing between us, and instinctively start scanning our surroundings, ready for whatever spell is coming next.
A dense fog begins to seep from the ground, enveloping us in a thick, white shroud that obscures everything beyond a few feet. The mist grows, swallowing the sounds of battle and isolating us in a ghostly silence.
“As soon as I get my magic back, I’m going to check on the other groups. Stay with our people,” I tell her, though the fog has thickened to the point where I can no longer see her face.
“As you wish,” her voice floats back, barely audible over the whoosh of wind that follows as she moves swiftly to rejoin our fighters.
Howls pierce the dense fog, their eerie cries slicing through the spell-enshrouded battlefield. The realization hits me—if the Lycans are joining the fight, they’ve been compelled to pick a side. I battle past a few more Sorcerers, tension coiling tighter within me. Suddenly, a large gray wolf darts past, and I hesitate, unsure whether to strike or stand down.
A low growl resonates behind me, and I spin around to face a giant black wolf. Lyra has often spoken of Rhett’s imposing wolf form, and there’s no mistaking this beast for any other.
“I thought the Lycans were staying out of this battle,” I challenge, eyeing him warily.
Instead of responding, he bows his head slightly—an almost respectful gesture—before lunging not at me but at a Sorcerer poised to strike me from behind. The wolf’s massive form barrels into the Sorcerer, thwarting the attack meant for me. In that moment, the allegiance of the Lycans becomes clear, and I mentally note to thank Rhett next time our paths cross.
With the Lycans in wolf form and the Lamias unaffected by the spell, I realize I can’t remain here any longer. My group seems to be handling themselves well, but I have no such assurances about the others. Bereft of my magic to conceal them, my wings are on full display, and I decide it’s time to use them.
I extend my wings to their full, impressive span and launch into the sky, rising high above the white blanket of fog below. Though the castle is an obvious destination, I first need to check on Bim and Dorian’s camp within the boundaries of Tempest Moon.
I reach the second camp,and from my vantage point above, the battlefield is a sprawling canvas of chaos and ruin. Below, the land is torn asunder, a grim theater of war where clashing armies embody the fierce struggle for supremacy. Flames devour what once were proud structures, now reduced to smoldering ruins that cast a baleful glow over the scene.
The ground itself seems to bleed, muddied and gouged by the feet and fallen of countless warriors. This camp is far largerthan the one we attacked, and I can only hope the fae magic wasn’t affected here.
Scores of combatants, each a mere speck from my height, swarm over the field like ants in a disturbed nest. Steel glints under the somber sky as swords clash, spears thrust, and bodies fall. Small bursts of color speckle the ground as spells are executed. The clamor of metal, the cries of the wounded, and the shouts of command rise to form a din that reverberates through the air, a symphony of destruction.
Dark figures maneuver through the disarray, and as I scan the crowd from above, I believe I spot Dorian. Without hesitation, I dive lower, plunging into the heart of the fray to join him.
Chapter 25
Nyx
This has stretched far longerthan I expected. The castle grounds are unrecognizable—Samael and Kaine have clearly not been idle. I had thought they’d be unprepared for our assault, but the extensive preparations suggest either paranoia or anticipation. Perhaps they fortified the place against Lyra’s eventual return. The thought makes me laugh aloud. Lyra wouldn’t be deterred by mere enchanted barriers and traps.
Frustration mounts as I realize our lines of communication are still down—Colton’s illusion vanished not long after our arrival. Damn him, probably slacking off with his magic, or perhaps... No, I quickly dismiss the darker thought of his demise. Despite everything, he is my brother, and his death would crush Lyra. Yet life would be simpler without him.
As if summoned by my thoughts, his projected self materializes within our ranks, and I can’t help but shake my head at the sight.
It’s eerie, seeing him like this—so lifelike yet so detached, moving mechanically until he choosesto engage. The fighters beside me still seem unnerved by it. I’ve only grown accustomed to it because my father used the same ability often.
Colton hurries over, and I brace myself for whatever comes next.
“Nice of you to join us again,” I remark as he approaches.
“I lost my magic. Were any of you affected?” His question catches me off guard.
“What? No,” I reply, scanning our surroundings for any immediate threats and not seeing any. “How?”
“Arrows,” he explains, “shortly after the battle began, hundreds of spelled arrows rained down on my group, turning into golden dust that nullified our magic. That’s why my illusion disappeared. I regained my powers moments ago.”
