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They remained standing, continued to fight, but the darkness receded. It had fueled their movements briefly, turning them faster. Harsher. Deadlier.

Now, as the shadows were chased away, their army slowed.

And we struck.

Chapter Seventy-Two

Tolek

“We don’t fucking know when she’ll wake up!” Santorina shouted at Lancaster, a savage edge to her words I rarely heard. “She’s trying to save our entire army, and it’s kill?—”

Rina’s words cut off as Ophelia writhed in my arms.

Again.

Whatever that toxin she’d swallowed did, it was brutally abusing her. Sweat dripped down her face and neck, but aside from the squirming and wrinkle of her brow, she appeared fine, which was even worse.

They were attacking her internally, and I knew how much that fucking hurt. How much I couldn’t do anything about it. All I could do was guard her here.

The cuts Kakias’s power left across her skin were healing, but her agony clenched my chest as if it was my own.

“The queen’s power has gone,” Lancaster reminded us. How he thought we could forget the way it had inexplicably incinerated, swallowed in a snap of golden light, was beyond my consideration as Ophelia writhed again. “That was her purpose.”

Angels, I was regretting calling on this damn fae.

“The power is gone from here,” I growled, “but clearly Ophelia’s battle is not over.”

I took her hand in mine and held her closer, wishing I could kill whatever was doing this to her. Protect her, that was my promise. And I was breaking it.

Sapphire nervously nudged my shoulder. I didn’t know how I knew it was nerves, but I somehow did. This horse was the only one who may love the girl in my arms as much as I did.

“She’ll be okay,” I encouraged.

She would come back. She had to.

My throat tightened at the consideration of any other result.

“What I meant,” Lancaster retorted, “is that if the power is gone, Ophelia is likely dealing with the after effects of it.”

“We understand,” Rina snapped, barely looking up from monitoring Ophelia to cast the fae a gruesome look. “Just because we are not pompous immortals does not mean we are dense.”

Mora snickered, gliding over to us, but Lancaster was properly chastised enough to remain silent. He returned to assisting Barrett and Dax. The general was unconscious from his wound, teetering on the edge of death. Barrett kept mumbling about how Dax couldn’t die. The fae male’s reassurances that he would save his consort did nothing to appease the prince. Spirits, I understood that sort of desperation.

Mora squatted next to me, extending a hand. “May I?”

I nodded, frantic for any kind of answers. Mora assessed Ophelia, with what fae power, I didn’t know. But she pressed her hands gently to Ophelia’s body and closed her eyes.

“She’s burning up,” the fae finally said. “She’ll likely be in pain. But her heart is strong, Mystique. Do not fret.”

She left us then, returning to where Kakias was tied, her body limp but very much alive. Mortal, immortal, I did not give an Angel’s fuck about it now.

Not as Ophelia’s temperature spiked, heat burning through her leathers. My heart thudded painfully, each beat audible as I watched the crease between Ophelia’s brows deepen, her lips trembling.

“Come on, Alabath,” I whispered. “You can beat it. You can beat these damn Angels, or whatever it is in there.” I dropped my forehead to hers. “I came back to you. Don’t leave me now.”

“Tolek,” Rina said softly. “We need to get her?—”

But her words were cut off by a shadow blocking out the moon. Long, scaled legs and razor-sharp claws shattered the glass ceiling. Shards rained around us, so small they were practically dust misting the air.