Page 65

Rekja had stationed most of his soldiers here, where they could use the battlements and crenellations for cover while observing the battle. The air was thick with fear, anticipation, charged with the energy of a storm about to break.

The king himself wore silver armor, his helmet adorned with a green stripe worked into the metal. He stood a couple hundred footspans away, on the northwestern intersection of the city walls, his gaze on our enemy in the distance.

The scent of the sea mingled with smoke and iron. At our backs, the city stretched out, Rekja’s people running for their lives.

The soldiers around us moved with purpose, armor clinking softly as they adjusted their helmets, checked their weapons, joked uneasily with those they would fight and die next to.

A horn blew in the distance, and the ground seemed to undulate as thousands of creatures shot toward the city. My teeth began to chatter. Lorian’s hand found my shoulder and squeezed. He didn’t say a word, simply stood next to me, a silent support.

Skyrions darkened the sky, flapping feathered wings as some of them split off, perhaps to chase after Daharak’s ships. Fog rolled over my mind, until I could only think one word—Telean.

We weren’t currently speaking. Neither of us had said goodbye before I’d left. By now, I should knowbetter than to tempt fate that way. My aunt was on one of those ships, and—

No. If I thought like that, the terror would cripple me.

I caught a glimpse of one of the skyrions, highlighted by the moonlight. Long arms ending in clawed talons, a hunched spine, glowing red eyes… My stomach roiled.

On the ground, terrovians sprinted toward the walls. Their fur was dark, so sleek it seemed almost like oil dripping across the ridges of their muscles. The creatures’ heads swayed, low and intent, sending a shiver down my spine. It was like watching shadows come to life.

I dragged my gaze away and caught a muscle ticking in Lorian’s jaw. His hands fisted, and I could practically feel the frustration eating at him.

“You can kill them all, can’t you?”

“The power that burns through me when you are in danger…I can access it once more. I can likely kill everything in the sky,” Lorian said. “It’s too difficult to differentiate targets on the ground, and the fae fire would spread, doing more damage to the people remaining in this city than Tymedes’s army.”

“You…you kept your fire contained in Eryndan’s castle.”

“Because it burned for mere moments in a confined space. This would ravage through anything it touched.” His eyes turned intent. “I will be almost powerless if I do this. You currently don’t have any access to your own power.”

And the protective part of him that insisted he shield me from everything dangerous was urging him toconserve that power.

“Do it. Kill the creatures in the sky.” Lorian was death with a weapon in his hand. But I’d heard from Asinia just how much damage the winged creatures could do.

The first skyrions reached the city walls, tucking in their wings and aiming for Rekja’s soldiers.

“Fire,” one of Rekja’s generals screamed.

Arrows filled the sky. But where each skyrion fell, another took its place, slashing out with teeth and claws, lifting soldiers from the wall and throwing them to the ground. I reached for my power out of habit, uselessly watching as one of the soldiers went over the wall, his gaze locking with mine.

I grabbed Lorian’s arm.

“Innocent people are dying!”

A muscle feathered in his jaw. I shouldn’t have attempted that kind of logic. Lorian would save innocents whenever he could, but if it came down to me or them, he would choose me every time.

“I’ll protect her,” Galon said behind us. “You know I have enough power to do it.”

Lorian turned and studied him. His cheekbones seemed even sharper than usual, his eyes wild.

“Please,” I begged.

He gave a stiff nod, turning to the sky. His expression turned almost serene. Relaxed. As if it had taken everything in himnotto use his power, and this was some kind of mental and physical release.

His eyes turned white, the way they sometimes did when his lightning had slipped free. But it wasn’t that power that he aimed. No, it was fae fire that sweptthrough the sky. Red, orange, yellow, and purple. My breath caught. It was as beautiful and deadly as the man himself.

Every skyrion in the air turned to ash.

Choked gasps sounded behind us. Footsteps sounded, as if someone had turned to run.