Page 182 of A Bond so Fierce and Fragile

She could see it in his eyes. Raine searched her face, and she could tell there was more he wanted to say, but instead he pressed his forehead against her own and sighed.

When she nodded, Raine got them both to her feet, and his hand didn’t release its grip on her own as they faced the fighting again, the swords and daggers clinking as they met each other and the humans screaming as the birds ripped chunks of their bodies or lifted them off the ground and threw them off the cliffs with their strong claws.

The scene before them was devastating, and it was clear… they were losing.

Quickly.

“We need to get out of here.” Zaddock’s face appeared to her left, and she didn’t have time to wonder where he’d come from when he pointed behind Venko, who stood beside him. “There is a hidden path over there. It’ll bring us to the ships.”

Frelina only now noticed the woman in his arms, and she pressed a hand to her chest in relief, her neck bending back, when Amalise’s blue eyes opened to her own.

The blonde looked from Frelina up to Zaddock’s chiseled features, and she had the gall to grimace. “You’re the one who saved me? I will never hear the end of this.”

Loche’s right-hand man only smiled at her. “Come on. They’re not doing so fine down there either.”

Frelina caught the look Zaddock cast Kerym’s way, and something within her froze as the former took a shuddering breath before waving for them all to follow Venko as he started down a narrow, rocky path.

While she was glad Kerym seemed able to move again, when Raine squeezed her hand, she knew, somehow she knew, it would only get worse from here.

Chapter 41

Lessia

Lessia could still hear the horrible sound of the snake ripping into Thissian’s body, how its fangs had cracked through his rib cage, punctured his lungs, and burrowed deep into his flesh before Merrick killed it.

She had never wished for something as much as she wished she could have given Merrick more time with Thissian, because the devastation across his face was like nothing she’d seen before.

But the fighting didn’t let up.

The world around them continued, even if one of the good ones, perhaps even one of the great ones, who’d spent centuries in it, no longer did.

After throwing two of her last three daggers to keep more rebels away—she refused to part with the one Merrick had gifted her—she had to drag the Death Whisperer to his feet and order him to help her move Thissian’s body to the side.

Lessia tried to cover his broken limbs with a piece of black tarp whispering in the wind, and all the while she prayed his body wouldn’t get injured further, mostly for Kerym, but also for herself and Merrick and anyone else Thissian’s gentle soul had touched.

Like her father, he deserved a hero’s journey into the afterlife.

When she finished, Merrick had snapped out of his static state, but he remained a step before her as they started toward the others, no longer allowing any space between his body and hers as his sword slashed through the rebels daring to come close and his other hand held on to her with a grip that nearly restricted her blood flow.

Perhaps the one good thing Thissian’s wasteful death had brought was that it seemed like their side had found some renewed energy.

It was as if they all fought for the Fae warrior—for his sacrifice—pouring everything they had into what Thissian had died for.

For the people on these ships to live on.

But even so, Loche’s eyes shone with tiredness when she found them, and Ardow wasn’t holding back his cries of devastation as another half-Fae fell at his hands.

Even Soria, who had been staying away from the worst of it, was bloodied and dusty now, hollow-faced, having had to defend herself against two shifters who’d separated her from the others.

It was all so damned useless.

Lessia clenched her jaw as she followed Merrick, seemingly set on helping Iviry as she struggled against that terrifying cat.

Everywhere around them lay dead bodies, and the floor was thick with blood. Loche’s soldiers, some with their masks still on, were strewn across the deck—only a few of those brave men who’d decided to remain in the bow still fighting beside their leader.

Rebels were mixed amongst them, their faces in death no longer twisted with anger but soft, lonely, young…

A group of Faelings who looked too similar to those she’d grown up with lay together, eyes shut, almost as if they’d decidedto live and die as one, and Lessia briefly wondered if she’d recognize any of the faces if she looked closer.