Page 112 of Temptation Unleashed
Grison, behind his feasting table. Cecir beside him.
“This ends now.”
Thaddeus rounded the door, casting a shield in front of him, absorbing the endless attack. Bolts and orbs splattered against his magic as he descended the stairs.
The tunnel collapsed at his back. Rock poured down the stairs at his heels.
A woman screamed.
One of the lower-caste Fae faltered.
Thaddeus lunged, felling him with one deft swipe of the sword. He turned on the second, a soldier, slammed the sword through his chest, rolled off the Fae, pulled the sword free as he cleaved his dagger through his neck. He followed the same rhythm with each man, moving too fast for them to react. As the last Fae fell, Thaddeus had already reached Cecir. He jammed the tip of the bloodied sword beneath his chin, at thehighest point of his throat, embedding the blade just enough to draw blood.
Grison shifted, a slight twitch of his muscle, but one Thaddeus recognized.
He threw up his dagger, leveled the tip at Grison’s throat, and guided the blue veins of power off the blade’s point. They whipped around Grison’s throat, coasted down his body, restraining him in a magical net.
Thaddeus stood between his two targets, the sword steady in Cecir’s throat behind him, Grison trapped within his magic in front of him. The outer perimeter of the hall began to cave in, the ground trembling beneath their feet.
“I warned you, Grison.”
“You will die if you use magic.”
“Through my blade, nay. ’Tis a failure in Cecir’s curse.” The corner of his mouth twitched. “I have danced with death twice. I fear it not. Alas, I have no expectations of surviving this eve.” He tipped toward Grison, infusing the bastard with ice from his gaze. The imposter’s face paled and his lips turned a light shade of blue. “I have chosen my end, and I have chosen to hand-deliver you to the darkest bowels of the Netherworld for everything you’ve done to Rori.”
With a tilt of his head, he stretched his fingers over the hilt of his dagger?—
“Cease!”
The powerful bellow shook through the room. Grison flinched. All the color drained from his face. Thaddeus refused to release his enemy from his grip, his gaze, narrowing his eyes on the fool. Grison’s gaze shifted toward the doorway—which no longer existed—and himself.
“Thaddeus, stand down.”
The resounding command broke through his wrath, his fury. He blinked for the first time since he returned to thecavern. The power that fed him strength and endurance began to drip away. He willed the net to retract, releasing Grison as he lowered his dagger to his side. He opened his other hand, dropping the sword, the metal clattering against the floor.
The first rush of faintness hit him like a death blow. He grappled for the table, finding momentary support in the rickety structure. Long enough to sheath his bloodied blade, unhook it from his waistband, and drop it on the table, pushing it away.
He lifted his head, a weight almost too great for him to carry, and instantly found Shaye. His old friend. The one who cut through his rage and drew him out of darkness. He stood behind the half-dozen High Fae who converged on Cecir and Grison.
Behind the King of Realms.
A resigned chuckle fled his lips. A sad smile crossed his mouth.
“’Tis over at last,” he breathed.
His legs buckled. His elbows folded. He scraped down the table as he fell to the ground, relieved, depleted.
His eyes closed. With his last ounce of strength, he embraced the perfect vision of his beloved Rori.
You’re forever safe now,mo ghrá álainn.
38
“Thaddeus, ’tis time.”
The indifferent voice drew him from sleep, a state he’d lingered in far more than not since his attack on Grison’s hideaway. His body had suffered incredible stress, far too much for him to recover from quickly. He had never completely healed from the ambush at Rori’s apartment, and despite keeping his use of direct magic during his attack to a minimum, the magic he imbued and the power he expelled…’twas simply too much.
’Twas also far more peaceful in dreams where he was forever with his beloved woman, happy, loving, no threats or impending executions. A perfect life, beyond their reach in reality.
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