Page 44 of The Curse of Ophelia

But I was hungrier. Not only did I seek revenge, but that thing living inside me wanted fuel.

I snarled in response, then focused all of my energy on predicting his next move.

Cypherion, Santorina, and Jezebel fought the remaining three Engrossians, Rina doing all she could on the sideline, her knife bared. They dodged blow after blow, but it was so close. Too close.

“I’m going to kill them all,” Victious mocked.

“I’ll die before I let you touch them.”

Fear for my friends kept me atop Sapphire, fighting to raise my sword arm though every muscle from my forearm to my shoulder to my obliques screamed in protest.

It was heavy, everything was heavy. Each strike echoed down my arm, bones grinding against each other, and I bit down on a scream.

“And die you will,” my opponent purred.

I wasn’t sure how much longer I would be able to hold off his blows. That sinking vulnerability returned as I realized I was going to lose the battle with Victious because of the Curse. It was a cruel fate, as I could tell I was the stronger fighter, but fate it was—and I could feel its cool hands reaching for me now.

My friends needed to run. They had to get out of here the second that blade met my neck. Victious would show no remorse, and they could be nowhere near my poisoned blood.

The sickening stench of Victious’s sweat was overwhelming. His heavy panting and deranged growls drowned out all noise beyond our weapons clashing. I could tell he was closing in for the kill—gaining a position on me that I would be unable to fight my way out of.

My hand trembled as I met his blade, Starfire nearly falling from my grip.

His eyes darkened with victory, as a grotesque smile split the warrior’s lips. The daughter of Alabath brought down by his mighty ax and sent to my father in pieces. I recoiled at the thought but willed my body to keep fighting until my friends were safe, so only one family may lose someone to this band of rogues.

Once Victious had me, he would be distracted long enough for my friends and sister to escape as he carved out my torturous death. If it was my last move, I would ensure they had that much. I would leave them with their lives. They would be safe, and I could die knowing that my last sacrifice was to ensure that.

And they would carry on my mission. I had yet to request it of them, thinking I’d have at least a few more days of life, but I knew they would do everything they could in my honor. Truthfully, what were a few less days when I’d known death lurked around me?

It was with those thoughts that I met Victious’s crazed stare and was not afraid. Remembering the lives I was hopefully saving, I let the arm holding Starfire fall to my side, muscles screaming in relief. Victious’s eyes glinted, the vengeance he sought against my father in his grasp.

I closed my eyes and exhaled for the last time.

“No!” A scream echoed, bouncing off the trees and hills around us.

My eyes shot open, my body going rigid when the ax didn’t meet my skin. I looked for the source of the shout, though I already knew in my bones who it was.

He had been watching. He guessed my intentions.

His scream caused Victious to hesitate for the slightest of moments, and it was all Tolek needed. I watched in horror as he pushed himself to his feet atop Astania’s back and launched himself before me, in line with Victious’s sharpened blade.

Chapter Eighteen

I had never known such fear as the moment Victious’s ax swung through the air and lodged itself in Tolek’s thigh.

Blood splattered across all three of us as he hit the ground, not moving. The coppery tang cut through the air. Sound stopped around me. Bodies moved, but senselessly.

I reached a shaking hand to my cheek where a drip of something was congealing, tickling my skin as it slid down. Not something—blood. Tolek’s blood. There was too fucking much of it on my skin, hair, leathers.

No. Tolek had not done that. Victious had not done that. My vision turned as red as the blood flowing around Tolek.

I released a bloodcurdling scream that had even Victious’s pale face slackening in fear. It was with little effort that I raised Starfire and brought her shining silver blade down across the Engrossian’s thick neck. The grinding of metal through flesh, tissue, and bone that ricocheted up my arm was satisfying. His head tumbled through the air, an arc of blood painting the sky, and thudded into the grass. His body crumpled beneath Sapphire’s feet, and I smiled.

Blood dripped from my blade as I panted, fury and fear battling within me. The sounds of my friends’ battles ended, and I turned to see two more Engrossians fall, the third and final fleeing toward the tree line.

“Absolutely not,” I growled. I kicked my heels into Sapphire’s side, and she shot off as if she, too, wanted revenge for our fallen friend.

We were gaining on the warrior, but he had a head start, and I knew that if he disappeared into the trees, it would be impossible to find him.

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