Page 79 of Cherished By the Gargoyle
Ryllen goes still. “Do you hear that?”
Dread trickles down my spine as a branch snaps behind us. Another to our left.
Without warning, the ground shakes beneath us. Shapes lumber from the mist—massive forms hunched and snarling, skin the color of mud, tusks glinting like knives.
Ogres. Their eyes burn an unnatural green, the mark of Malvara’s magic swirling through the veins beneath their skin.
They raise their weapons with guttural roars that fill my veins with ice.
Ryllen raises his hands, blue magic crackling between his fingers like small bits of lightning. “How many do you count?” he mutters under his breath.
“Six,” I reply in a low voice.
“Why did it have to be Ogres,” he grinds out. “I hate Ogres.”
Baring my fangs, I spread my wings wide. “Agreed.”
The first ogre charges. I leap forward, claws raking down his chest in a spray of black blood. He howls, swinging a massive club and shattering a tree trunk beside me.
Ryllen’s magic bursts from his palms, arcing in a blur of light and slicing through another’s arm.
The Ogres close in fast, snarling and reeking of mud and stench.
Ryllen and I fight back-to-back, moving like we’ve trained together all our lives—me with my claws and wings, him with his magic. For every strike we land, two more come.
One ogre grabs me by the tail and slams me into the ground. The impact drives the breath from my lungs, but I manage to roll away just as its club crashes down, splitting the earth.
I push up to my feet and freeze.
Aurora stands at the edge of the clearing, glowing brighter this time. The light from her body pierces through the fog, turning it to vapor. Her expression is desperate.
“Behind you!” she cries, her voice echoing through the woods.
I spin just in time to see an Ogre looming over me, axe raised. I duck under the swing and drive my claws through his ribs. Tearing through his skin, hot blood sprays across my chest.
If she hadn’t warned me, I would have been dead.
Ryllen shouts as another Ogre lunges for him, but I’m faster. I slam into the beast, my wings snapping wide, my claws slicing through flesh and bone.
“Was that—” Ryllen pants, kicking at the body of the nearest fallen Ogre. “Was that really Aurora?”
I’m breathing hard, my chest heaving. “I don’t know.”
The final Ogre staggers and collapses, its green-lit veins dimming to black. Silence falls around us, broken only by the sound of our ragged breathing as we stand side by side.
“Thalric?” Aurora’s soft voice calls out.
I turn toward the sound, my heart pounding. Aurora is standing before me. Glowing faintly, the edges of her form waver like flickering candlelight. She reaches her hand out to me.
“Auri.” I take a step forward. “Is it really you?”
“Wait.” Ryllen’s hand clamps on my arm. “It could be a trick.”
Her eyes find mine, shining with the same warmth I’ve dreamed of so many times before. “It’s me.” Her voice trembles. “I don’t know how, but I can feel you. Both of you. I can feel everything… like I’m standing halfway between worlds.”
I move closer, my breath catching. “How is this possible?”
“I don’t know.” She glances around, her light flickering weaker. “But I can feel myself slipping away.”
