Page 89 of The Dark War

Odessa stood in shock, her electricity thrumming through her. Cyrene reached out her hand as she hovered over the entire battlefield needing the help of Odessa. With newfound confidence, Creed stood at her side, and nudged her side for her to take flight. Odessa hovered over the entirety of the field, along with Cyrene, as the black clouds began to break and the setting light sources came to light just next to twilight.

As the light sources set at the end of the day, the blue moon came overhead. Watching her mated pairs slowly dying, the goddess brightened the moon herself, going against everything the gods had promised each other. Helping the supernaturals and mortals.

She argued that if she didn’t heighten the light of the moon, there would be no more gods. This dark magic was far more powerful than even the gods had imagined. Hecate grabbed her hand through their shared sacred bond, giving thanks to her sisters’ willingness. It seemed only the female gods were looking out for the stubborn males.

Folen’s brother was at his back. They fought with each other as the vampires surrounded them. The fae had come to find a newfound energy with the blue moon rising in the sky, and more fae continued to fly over the canyon to help the shifter kingdom.

Folen was caught off guard by a witch who knocked his sword from his hand. His brother turned to feel the lack of movement from Folen, only for three vampires to take advantage of his lack of attention. Folen growled, lurching at the witch who was not prepared for his sudden bravery. He cracked her neck, only to feel a rush of pain. Turning, he saw his brother being held down by three vampires.

“No!” He growled out, trying to jump forward, but a bear caught him, pulling Folen up off the ground in a giant hug. “No! No!” The vampire holding his brother’s head smirked until it was ripped clean off his body. Folen felt his brother’s bond break inside him. He howled in pain. It pained him so much to lose the only sibling he had left, and he began to cry red tears.

Kane roared from behind him, gripping the bear that held Folen and cracking its neck effortlessly. Kane, being in a blind rage to kill any rogue in sight, left Folen to his devices. Folen kneeled to the ground, picking up his sword. He swung it around his body, charging at the leftover vampires that had killed his brother. With the swipe of his blade, one vampire fell to the ground while the others ran in fear.

Folen knelt to the ground, picking up his brother’s body, his head barely attached, but he cradled him anyway. From that day forth, he would never trust a single vampire, may they be for good or evil. Because this image of this brother being taken from this life before he had found a mate had devastated him too greatly.

Charlotte caught the two vampires that dared to run away from Folen. She snarled, snapping her teeth harshly. She followed Wesley, who was trying to climb the cliff, but when she saw that Folen and his brother were in trouble, she abandoned the climbing and raced toward him.

But it was too late. Folen’s family was dead, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t help in another way. Revenge.

Chills ran up her spine. She hated the evil vampires. Her vision tainted from her days living with one for so many years. Charlotte didn’t want to touch the dirty things, but she would do it for the elf that had been friendly to her. She leaped forward from the underbrush, surprising one with a quick snap of the neck. They were much easier to kill than the witches that had been possessed by demons.

The other vampire stood with his back to the cliff, his hand reaching trying to find a magical hidden door or cave he could duck into. Charlotte licked her lips, the black sludge causing her to gag.

“For Folen,” she whispered to herself as her wolf pounced on the vampire, pinned to the rock wall, and ripped into his chest with her claws.

Chapter Forty-eight

Under the Moon

Osiruslookedtothesouth. The constant haze that accompanied the morning light made him lose hope. The three orcs, Sugha, Valpar, and Thorn, had left just a day after Mortus’ brutal killing. They said they would be back for the war. They would do everything they could to bring more of their kind to finally find the mates that were promised to them. What troubled Osirus the most was that the reinforcements may not come.

The war started far sooner than Osirus had anticipated. Apollo had barely taken the reins of becoming the Alpha of the Toboki tribe, and Odessa was still trying to prepare and gain confidence in her new powers.

Melina stirred in the corner, her hand reaching for her stomach. Osirus rushed forward, forgetting about the orcs, and took to his mate. The physicians gathered, fanning incense, and began to rub essential oils on her neck and face.

“Darling?” Osirus lightened his voice and gripped her hands. He would forever be indebted to Creed for saving his mate. Melina groaned, trying to sit up. The black tar had hardened, crusting over and falling to dust around the table. Her body was still pale, her eyes still dulled in a fog. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I was hit by a truck.” She chuckled. Osirus shook his head. He still did not understand the meaning of Earth. “We need to get back out there.” Osirus put his hand between her naked breasts and pushed her back down on the bed.

“Can’t do that. You need to stay still. I will go fight in your stead. You are in such deep shit, though. You just don’t understand.” He chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. “Twenty spankings for you.” Melina gave a small smile, then felt the bumps between her fingertips on her stomach. Her small smile faded as she lifted the sheets.

“Wait,” Osirus begged, but her hand was already rubbing the raised scars above her womb. They were red and irritated, but the wound was closed. Physicians remained worried her uterus may not recover, that she would not be able to give Osirus an heir they wanted. Sensing Melina’s distress, he put a hand over her stomach.

“You will be fine,” he soothed. Melina shook her head, and a ruddy tear fell from her eye. The black magic was still being pulled from her body in any way possible. “And you will have children,” Osirus said, determined. Melina glanced at the physician standing. He pursed his lips and would disagree with his king.

“Do you understand me, Melina?” Osirus said sternly. “You will. I promise you. Have I ever broken a promise?” She shook her head, deep, dark tears trailing down her face. “I must go,” Osirus said reluctantly. He had stayed too long. He was needed back on the field with the rest of his men, with the rest of Bergarian fighting.

Melina nodded, giving an apologetic smile. Kissing her long and hard, Melina traced her fingers over his jaw. “I love you.” Her hand never left her stomach. “And I love you, darling,” he replied softly.

Osirus stepped out of the tent, the flap opened by the wind. Horus had just taken to the sky, his wings causing the ash and dust of the ground to be swept up and into the eyes of all who fought. It hindered them all from trying to battle, but at least Horus was back in a fighting stance after absorbing the devil Darius’s power.

A horn in the distance sounded. The soldiers around the physician’s tents stilled as the sea of deep greens settled upon the horizon. Hordes of orcs, all being led by the infamous three that wanted mates, raised their swords, axes and clubs, all screaming with a mighty fury of longing.

Osirus smiled, bowing to Thorn as he flew to the cliff to find the one sorcerer to stop the madness.

Sugha stood at Thorn’s side, his large club with spikes of iron swung, and the fire instantly captured two vampires as they fell into the canyon. Valpar stood in front of a warlock. The warlock had electricity weave in and out of his fingers until it formed into the signature balled orb. The warlock pushed forth, Valpar was unable to move his large muscular arms in time to block the electricity. Once it hit its chest, instead of the magic absorbing into his body, it fell down with a plunk.

The warlock raised a brow, not understanding. Little did he know that orcs repelled magic. Valpar snickered, his large, bare feet stomping the ground, leaving imprints into the soft ash, and swung his sword until the warlock was cut clear in half with one fatal swoop.

---