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He was stumbling.

I refused to watch him fall.

Beside the queen was a stack of open letters. Instinct, or not, I rushed for it, scanning the pages, desperate for some sort of guidance, anything. Love notes, strange spells for love and affection and what looked like pleasure filled the pages, but I came to a halt on a short message on the front page of the pleasure spells.

Open the pits of rage for your love. Stand shoulder to shoulder, side by side, warriors for your hearts. In those moments, where you would give it all, that is where your power lies.

The pits of rage for love. I wasn’t certain I knew love, or even what it was, but there was an undeniable frenzy taking hold inside, a sort of anger that stemmed from deep fear. It grew fierce enough the need to flee weakened, and something else grew stronger.

I would not watch Kage Wilder fall in defense of me while I cowered in these walls. I glared at the window, a molten burn in my blood. I’d only just gotten a taste of him, and he was trying to die on me.

My body trembled in a strange sort of anger. All heat and untamed pressure in my veins. I had no weapon, no real plan, but I spared a look at the sleeping king and queen. “I won’t let him die.”

I sprinted out of the room and out of the cottage.

CHAPTER 25

Kage

I snatchedup a bone from one of the shattered, discarded arms of the Immorti. What drew them here? I’d battled a few here and there. Creatures that arose when death was manipulated.

They were here because someone had taken Arabeth’s heartstone.

There was no other reason to steal the joy of a soul if not for dark spell casts involving the dead.

I slid my hand over the gnarled bone, my Soturi magic burning in my blood, and swiftly manipulated the shape into a sharp bolt. One dagger I’d kept sheathed on my leg had snapped between an Immorti’s jaws, and the rest of my blades remained in the supply hut. Bone swords would have to do.

A bit of relief clung to my chest knowing Adira was hidden. This was not a nuisance of one or two Immorti, this was as siege.

Sleipnir whinnied and kicked his massive hooves, snapping the spines of the undead creatures whenever they got too close.

A hiss and reek of rot came from behind. I swung the bone bolt. My frenzied attack was blocked. I reeled back again. I jabbed, sliced, tried to break free of the groping fingers of the cursed beings.

“Kage!”

No. Adira sprinted away from the cottage, hair free, skirt gathered high over her knees.

The point of the bone dug into the throat of a spindly Immorti, spilling out the corrupted, fetid blood from its swollen veins.

“Get your ass back in the cottage!”

“No!” was all she had time to shout at me before a new, petite creature lunged.

“Adira!” I clenched one fist, wordlessly crushing the skull of a beast, and ran for her. This was desperation. A fear, sharp and cruel, took hold from behind. Unlike anything I’d known before, I could not watch her die.

Not again.

I shook the rogue thought away and quickened my step. An Immorti hissed in my path, spewing its rancid spittle in my face. I cried out my frustration and opened my arms wide. From the crooked ribs, the beast split in two.

Fatigue wore heavy in my veins. I was a battle mage, but Immorti fed on the magic in mage blood. So many all at once, it was only a matter of time before I could not even snap a finger.

Adira cried out when the Immorti reached for her. She ducked, hands padding over the grass.

Get up, Adira. Run.

Breath burned. I pushed harder.

Adira raised her hands again, only now a dark, heavy rock was held between them. She screamed in fear and anger, smashing the stone against the skull of the Immorti. The creature crumbled like ash at her side.