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I moved closer, then reached out with tentative fingers and rested my palm on his shoulder. “Remember what you said back in Pyli? ‘Trust me,’ you said. Now I’m asking you to do the same.”

He turned to me and drew me into his arms, kissing me with that passion, that desire that burned me.

Gods, how could he melt me like this?

After he’d staked his claim on my lips, my soul, he separated from me, but only by a breath. “I can’t lose you again.”

“You won’t.” I kissed him, matching fire with fire, after making a promise only the Fates knew if I could keep.

The forest was a misty maze. Branches brushed at my hair like skeletal hands, and the ground was a tangled mass of roots and debris. Staying off the road was the safest course, but it made our trek even more slow going.

The Darkwood was eerily silent. It should have been alive with birdsong and animals, but only the clack and creak of branches in the wind broke the stillness. The fog was so dense that we stayed within arm’s length. If we were to get separated, there was no way we’d find each other again. Keeping to the edges of the ancient road, we forged farther and farther into the darkness that permeated the wood. The fading suns only increased the gloom.

I was becoming accustomed to the muffled silence, seeking through it for any sounds that could signal danger. There were none I could detect, just the occasional whistle of wind, the groan of branches, and the thud and crunch of our footsteps.

Glancing at Paris from the corner of my eye, I saw he was on edge, rigid as he walked. His eyes constantly scanned the mist before us as it eddied around the wizened branches. He’d drawn a dagger when we’d first stepped under the canopy of trees and carried it now. I ghosted my fingers over the hilt of the Olympian blade at my side. I had magic and metal, two powerful allies.

Night was falling, the darkness slowly becoming all-encompassing as the mist formed a wall around us. We continued on, hoping to find more hospitable terrain to make camp for the evening. The roots were so thick here that every step was treacherous.

“There’s something in the mist.” His voice was low, carrying only to my ears and no farther. We both stopped, straining our senses into the space around us.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. He was right. Something was there, hidden in the milky-white hedge. It watched us and slowly circled. We turned along with the creature, sensing it trying to move to our flank. I summoned blue orbs into my palms, the electricity darting and dancing. I couldn’t risk fire. The trees would go up in an inferno if I let those magics out to play. Paris drew his short sword as a counterpart to his dagger.

The creature stopped and let out a hiss, no doubt unhappy that its prey intended to fight back. Tense seconds passed, neither side making a move. The hissing resumed, but now there was more than one, a virtual host of high-pitched hisses cutting through the silence. We were surrounded. Standing back to back, we waited for the onslaught that was sure to come.

Eerily calm, I kept my breathing steady. Battle was what I was meant for. There was no better feeling than destroying something that was bent on ending your life. The anticipation of an imminent clash had me spoiling for the fight.

The hisses grew louder, and I could make out the skittering sound of legs, too many legs, on trees, on the ground, even shaking the leaves above us. They were trying to intimidate us, scare us into bolting and separating. I could respect it. Divide and conquer had always been one of my favorite strategies. But it wouldn’t work this time, at least not for the hissing masses in the woods.

I allowed the balls of electricity to grow larger, my power surging through me, ready to end the threat. I looked into the mist, unafraid, and let out a long hiss of my own. A challenge.

The noises stopped. The silence returned, as if the forest held its breath. The creatures were still there. Waiting, watching. I would wait no longer. I let the power surge through me, sending the orbs flying into the mist ahead of me. The electricity cracked, sending small bolts of lightning through the foggy cloud, illuminating what lay beyond.

I gasped as a horror of legend appeared in the silver light.

Chapter Thirteen

Paris

I began swinging at the mist the minute Elena let her magic loose. Great spurts of black blood erupted from my strikes, and the hidden creatures shrieked at each hit.

“We have to run.” Elena’s voice was steady as she shot bolt after bolt of lightning and magical energy into the woods. So many wails ricocheted along the trees—too many. Our attackers had to number in the hundreds. But what were they?