Page 313 of Dawn of Chaos and Fury
“No, Tessa. You need?—”
“I wasn’t asking,” she gritted out, planting both her palms on his chest. Her power halted, recognizing the well it had before it, and it shifted, racing for him.
“Fuck,” he grunted as it slammed into him, and she felt his darkness rise to greet it. Latch onto it. Take it for its own.
They hadn’t known how this was going to work. The Source Mark worked both ways, but Razik and Eliza had to merge their blood to refill reserves. She’d never had to do that. His power had always been drawn to her, and now that he was more, her power was drawn to him too. Something unexplainable and uncontrollable.
But then his arm wound around her waist, tugging her into him and raising his sword as he spun. The seraph that had come for them was speared on the end, blood raining down as his darkness rose and snapped the male’s wings clean off.
“You’re smiling, tempest,” he muttered, lowering his sword and letting the seraph fall to the muddy ground. “We’re in the middle of a brutal battle, and you’re fucking smiling.”
“We like the madness,” she whispered, dropping her hands.
He huffed a laugh, wiping at the blood on her face but only smearing it. “Have you seen him yet?”
She shook her head. “He’s here. He’ll find me.”
And that was how the next minutes went. Or maybe it was the next hour. More? Time became meaningless as they fought. Theon never strayed far, and Luka was always above them. She caught glimpses of fire every so often. Eliza or Kat. Other fire Fae. The Night Children were ruthless, and Shifters sank claws and teeth in alongside Nylah and Roan. A fine dusting of ash from the dragons above mixed with the steady rain. Blood splattered, magic flared, and feet slipped in the mud.
Tessa dropped to a crouch as three enemy forces came for her. Thunder rumbled and lightning struck. Or she did. Her Chaos took it once more, striking true, and a crevice cracked open, much like it had done months ago in a garden. Hunters didn’t crawl out of it this time, though. Instead, Achaz warriors fell in. Fae fighting nearby clearly had earth magic as vines and roots snaked out, keeping them in the crevice and dragging more in—those on the ground and those flying low.
She stood still, awed as she watched them work, and after there were several dozen bound to the walls of the crevice, those Fae came together and closed the earth.
Holy gods.
She was powerful, but that was…
“Kat! Katya!”
Tessa whirled at the sound of Axel’s desperate voice calling for his wife, and she was running without thinking, following that sound. She heard Theon call after her, but it was overpowered by Axel’s cries.
“Kat, no! Kat!”
She ran, her power clearing a way as she followed those pleas. Scrambling up a small hill several feet from the mayhem, she reached the top and her heart stopped. She didn’t find Kat or Axel, his voice still pleading somewhere nearby, but she did find Tristyn.
On the ground with a blade in his chest.
“Tristyn!” she cried, sliding down the hill and rushing to his side. She dropped to her knees, looking him over. Black pants and shirt. Leather armor like Eliza wore. Sheaths empty where they’d once held blades. Numerous cuts and scratches, and his eyes were a faint sage green when she took his face in her hands.
“Tristyn? Tris, can you hear me?”
“Wild fury,” he gasped, coughing with the exhale. “Didn’t expect…you to find me.”
“What do I need to do?” she demanded, panic in her voice as she released his face to focus on his chest. “Pull it out or leave it? I can— I’ll get Cienna. We can?—”
Tristyn coughed again, wincing with the movement. “There’s nothing… I failed,” he rasped.
“No.” The word a denial, she shook her head frantically. “No. No more. I will not?—”
Tristyn’s icy fingers grasped hers, squeezing. Or trying to.
“How?” she demanded. Screamed it at him. “You’re a deity! You can’t just— No. No!”
“Can you tell her—” He coughed again, blood coming up with it. “Tell her I’ll save her that dance, yeah?”
“No!” Tessa cried. “You tell her. You tell— Tristyn?”
Because his eyes were no longer glowing. They were still and vacant, and his chest wasn’t moving. And he couldn’t justdie. He was a fucking deity. He couldn’t. He?—
