Page 78 of Realm of Nightmares
“Aran.” Tiernan whispered the High Prince’s name, but he didn’t stir.
“Aran,”he tried with more force into the fae’s mind.
The High Prince’s eyes opened, alert, the emerald of them burning like the smoldering coals of their fire.“What is it?”
“We need to go.”Tiernan jerked his head slightly toward the forest behind them.“Now.”
The cursedfaolanwere getting closer.
Aran’s fist coiled tightly around his sword, his knuckles clenched white.“Through the river?”
Tiernan nodded once.“Through the river.”
They moved swiftly and silently, packing up their fireweave blankets and the remaining rations. Random snowflakes started to fall from the sky, condensing over their dwindling fire, until it was snuffed out completely.
Shit.
“Go, Aran,” Tiernan urged through their thoughts.“Go, now!”
They bolted for the river's edge, running for the red rapids.
Howls pierced the air, sending a sliver of fear through Tiernan, freezing his heart. There was a snarl, so close he could feel the heat of the beast’s breath along the back of his neck. White hot pain speared his shoulder as claws ripped into his flesh, dragging him to the ground.
He grunted, his back slamming into the solid snowbank. Air pulled from his lungs, caving his chest. Glimpses of fur and the sheen of sharp fangs were all he could see. Thefaolanreleased a guttural growl, its powerful jaws snapping for his throat. Tiernan swung, taking aim with the hilt of his sword, bashing it into the side of the creature’s head.
Thefaolantoppled sideways, giving Tiernan enough time to scramble to his feet.
“Tiernan!” Aran bellowed and sprinted toward him. But another howl sounded and a secondfaolanlurched from the darkness, lunging at the High Prince.
Aran went down on the other side of the snowbank and rage consumed Tiernan. If Maeve’s brother died on his watch, she would never forgive him. Then again, if he died as well, he supposed it didn’t fucking matter.
Fangs sank into his forearm, digging through his armor to his flesh, all the way to the bone. A familiar snap caused his stomach to heave. The cursed animal clamped down hard, yanking him back to the ground. His jaw ripped Tiernan’s muscles to shreds, and searing, agonizing pain exploded from the wound. He shouted a stream of profanities and his grip on his sword faltered, the weapon tumbling from his grasp.
His fighting arm was useless now, nothing more than a heap of mangled skin and broken bones.
Tiernan fisted his left hand and swung hard. His punch met its mark. His knuckles might be nothing more than shredded skin, but at least it was enough to give him a spare second to figure out how in the seven hells he was going to survive.
Rolling, he reached for his fallen sword. The tips of his fingers were inches from the hilt when something hard struck him in the head. Stars of midnight flickered in front of his eyes, blurring his vision. His temple throbbed, and his body was on fire. Wetness slid from his mouth, warm and sticky. In the faint recesses of his mind, he recognized it as the metallic taste of blood.
He couldn’t stop.
He couldn’t quit.
The god of death will have to tear me from this world before I ever yield.
Tiernan lunged for his sword as claws slashed across his abdomen. Clutching the hilt, the world tilted on its axis. He thrust his blade into the beast’s shoulder, knowing it wouldn’t be sufficient. It would take more than a small flesh wound to bring down a cursedfaolan. But it was all he had left. Blood was pooling around him, soaking his leathers, draining him. His mind was in a fog. He couldn’t focus. He couldn’t think.
There was only Maeve and death.
Nothing else.
If he met his end with her beautiful face in his mind’s eye, then so be it.
His fist coasted through the air, missing the beast completely.
The ground beneath him trembled. The trees shuddered, their branches snapping and breaking against the unseen force. A mass of shadows emerged through the chaos, crashing into thefaolan.Through the spiraling rise of an endless pitch, Balor appeared.
The Fury had come.
