Page 68 of A Realm of Fire and Ash

MORTE

"I'm sorry," Emeric spins around, yanking his clothes back on.

"It wasn't your fault," I call out as I slip my shirt over my head.

"I should've known something was up. One minute you weren't interested, and the next you were begging me to fuck you."

Turning to face him, I still my hand on his shoulder. "I never said I wasn't interested. What I said was that I had a game to win, and I need to get to know you better."

"Yeah?" He grins, raking a hand through his hair. "I can accept that."

We stand there and stare at each other for a moment. The air is charged with electricity, and I'm not sure what will happen next. I'm still shaking from the adrenaline of taking down another fae, but I know I have to keep my focus if I want to win.

My breath catches in my throat as his eyes bore into me and I can feel the intensity of his gaze on every inch of my skin. As I reach for my cuirass, an ominous knock echoes throughout the room like the toll of a bell, sending a chill down my spine. For a moment, time stands still as I wait for whatever’s coming next.

He motions for me to get behind him, and I shake my head at him, making a flapping motion with my wings, mouthingphoenixto him. My death wouldn’t be as permanent as his.

Emeric rolls his eyes before peering through the peep hole. "Shit," he curses, throwing the door open.

Azazel grips the door frame, his free hand clutching at his neck as a fountain of blood gushes from a gruesome injury. His skin is deathly pale, and his eyes are glassy and filled with fear. His gaze locks on to me; his shoulders momentarily relaxing before his eyes slip shut, and he collapses backwards off the steps and into a crumpled heap on the ground.

A desperate scream escapes my lips as I throw myself down the steps. With trembling hands I grasp at the gaping wound on Az's neck, desperately attempting to stem the tide of blood. My eyes dart to Emeric, pleading for his help. "Please," I beg, my voice broken with desperation, "I don't have magic. You have to save him!"

His fangs extend like twin blades, shredding through his wrist and he thrusts it against Az's lips, demanding he drink. His other hand presses against the rip in Az's neck, glowing a brilliant scarlet, its luminescent light highlighting the thick crimson liquid that pools underneath, gradually saturating the dirt.

I crouch on my knees, trembling as every nerve of my body is set on high alert, scanning the darkness of the woods for any sign of a ruby light. I know that if I see one, I have mere seconds to react.

Emeric throws his head back and roars in anger. "He's fading away!" His face contorts in agony, lines of ancient grief washing over his features like an unstoppable tide. His eyes close and a single tear trickles down his face, as if it was a river of sorrow unleashed from deep within his soul.

"FEATHERS!" I shriek, my voice rising to a fever pitch. "Do you have one?"

Emeric's glassy eyes meet mine. "We're demon fae, Morte. Ours don't work like that."

A roar erupts from my throat as my wings unfurl with a furious flourish. Scarlet flames lick the air, illuminating the area with an otherworldly light. I stretch out a hand to pluck a feather, just as an intense agony sears through my chest, rending me speechless. My gaze shifts downward, focusing on the arrow that penetrates my ribcage, embedding itself deep within my flesh.

I lock eyes with Emeric, my vision tunneling until I see only his handsome face, his mouth forming words I can't distinguish over the wild pulse of my heart. A veil of shadows creeps up my vision, the world tilting on its axis as scorching flames engulf me in their familiar, smothering embrace.

* * *

The moment I regenerate,I barrel towards Emeric’s house, fear a living thing inside me at the thought I might lose Az. I burst through the door, unencumbered by armor and clothing. I drop my gear on the ground and rush to Emeric’s side, my guttural cry filling the air as I kneel beside Azazel’s limp body.

"Hold on, big guy," he whispers with determination, aware that time is slipping away. "Let’s put him on this giant hunk of metal."

It takes me a bewildered beat before I connect the dots. We maneuver him across the floor and towards the oven, pinning our hopes on a force he can control—ferrokinesis—to save him.

I take his ankles, helping Emeric heave Az onto the surface barely big enough to cook on, let alone hold a massive beast of a demon fae. His head lolls at an awkward position.

I sprint to the door, snatching my armor and rushing back to them.

"You're gonna kill yourself, you've given him too much." I yank his wrists away from Az’s mouth.

He shakes his head, his body swaying with the movement. "No," he croaks. "Demon fae don't have souls. A feather isn't going to bring him back."

"What?!" I shriek, lunging for his face but he’s too stunned to move out of the way.

Before he can fully comprehend what's happening, I’ve used his fangs to slice open both my wrists, my blood spilling down my arms and onto the floor.

I shove one in Az's mouth, and the other in Emeric’s. "Drink!" I roar. "Take it all!"

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