Page 156 of Walking in Darkness
But not completely.
My heart sank when I realized maybe not at all. Not anymore.
Because he landed with a roar and on his feet.
It placed him mere yards away from me.
The distance separating us churned with frigid, ferocious air.
And the light . . .
The light bottled inside me swelled and burned, and my hands tingled with the need to fight. With this purpose that I’d been given.
One I’d struggled with my entire life to understand, but now, in this moment, fully grasped.
It built and grew, manifesting into something so powerful I could barely contain it.
When holding it in became too much, I let it go.
A bolt of energy arced between us and blasted into Ambrose in a flash of blinding light.
I nearly sagged in relief until the dust cleared, and I found Ambrose just standing there with his mouth twisted into a sneer.
Malicious laughter rolled from him as he slowly moved in my direction.
His words a taunt that danced with the frozen spikes of rain.
“You’re going to have to do a lot better than that.” He tsked. “It’s pathetic, really, that you came here thinking you could conquer me. It’s time to surrender.”
“I will never surrender.” It was an oath. A promise to humanity.
I waited for the right opportunity. For the moment when Pax silently eased up behind Ambrose and gave me a telling nod.
As one, we rushed him from both sides, and we slammed our hands on him at the same time.
We let go of the light. The energy that burned and raged within us.
Streaks of power that pelted through him like darts.
Ambrose howled, though he retaliated, and a surge of his own energy blasted us back. I flew, my feet ripped out from under me, airborne for five seconds before my body was thrown to the ground. A surprised cry jutted out of my lungs; nothing I could do to stop myself from skidding fifteen feet back, cutting into the cold, frozen ground as I went.
Pain lancinated, every muscle in my body aching, but I refused it. My breaths were choppy as I staggered back to my feet.
Pax was already on his, and we shared a look.
Together.
The mass still battled behind us. Cries and shouts and the clashing of weapons.
While Ambrose smirked. Smirked like the wicked bastard he was.
And that rage billowed. Coming at me from all sides. All the depravities I’d seen through my years. The torture and the torment.
He couldn’t win. He couldn’t.
Teeth gritted, I ran back for him, desperate to focus on the light. Praying it would regenerate. That I would have the strength to see this through.
It faintly flickered, and with each thud of my feet, it wicked back to life. Growing quick. Combusting to a boiling point.
