Page 86 of A Flame of the Phoenix (An Heir Comes to Rise #6)

CHAPTER EIGHTY-FIVE

Izaiah

H e’d fought many battles over many centuries, but none had come close to the endless and relentless fighting that had raged on for days. Izaiah was tiring, switching from fighting with his sword to tearing through the enemy in various large-cat forms. The panther was always most efficient for him. Its dark, sleek coat and agility made it a swift predator.

Once, he’d used the Phoenix form, until the Phoenix Blood potion in his system seemed to have worn off at least. He was too aware of the second vial he had, but he didn’t want to get it wrong this time.

Izaiah had been in torment, believing he’d taken the first dose too late to save Marlowe, who’d provided him with the portions. Why had she given him two? Was he supposed to give the other to someone else?

Something scored thorough his side, and Izaiah roared in his black panther form as he leaped. He skidded in his landing, twisting at the threat. Shadow creatures. He was surrounded by five. In all the chaos of fighting, it was hard to maintain an efficient tag team to take out the pesky shadow foes.

They needed to find that damned rift that was letting them into their world.

The number of shadow creatures grew over his east side suddenly. Izaiah wondered…

What if the rift could move location? And now it was close…very close.

Izaiah snarled at the five shadow creatures that made him his target. He needed comrades to notice and kill them while he held their attention.

No one was noticing, and they closed in around Izaiah. In groups, they moved slow, as if knowing they had their prey trapped and they enjoyed the anticipation of the feed.

Izaiah braced to lunge.

Darkness met darkness in a horizontal sheet that cut through all five shadow creatures. When their wails died out and their forms blew away on the wind, Kyleer stood behind them.

Izaiah shifted back into his fae body, catching his breath and examining the slash on his side with a hiss. He said, “Excellent timing, brother.”

Just then, Tynan dropped down from above. “I was just about to intervene.”

The dark fae had been covering the skies of their east legions.

Kyleer said, “You’re wounded. You need to retreat back to the healers’ tents before you keep fighting.”

Izaiah waved him off, but he knew the wound was particularly nasty and would impair him. He couldn’t leave now. Izaiah didn’t want to tell them he suspected the rift was nearby. He figured it would be easy to lose them in the thick of the fighting.

He pulled his blade free. “I can go a while longer. I’ll retreat if I need to.”

Kyleer’s brow furrowed in protest, but Izaiah was already darting into the masses of enemies and comrades.

The days of war were tiring; the nights grew long and blood-soaked. Izaiah couldn’t be more proud of the resilience of the warriors who kept following him to battle.

He gained distance from Kyleer and Tynan, pushing through the front line and heading to the edge of the mountain. He knew a series of passages ran through the fringe behind this main peak, and that was where he’d drift away to investigate if the rift was here.

When he was out of the thick of the battle, he ran through the narrow passages, killing any stray foe that tried to use the labyrinth to slip by. Many of his soldiers were guarding these hidden passages and didn’t stop him as he passed.

Izaiah shifted into a hawk to fly and scout faster. Forms grew out of the shadows cast by rocks. It has to be close.

Then, behind the next peak he soared over…there it was.

Wedged into a small open plane between tall peaks. It were as if a scar had torn through the air, rippling with darkness and opening a thin, eye-shaped door into a deathless void.

Izaiah’s adrenaline burst. He might have lost his mind, which would cost the ultimate price if his belief was wrong.

That was all he had…a strong desperation and the belief he could do this.

Izaiah flew lower, staring into the mouth between worlds and wondering if he was a complete fool. It was too late to deliberate anymore. The rift was closing, the eye of darkness slowly drawing together, and it would relocate again. He wouldn’t get another chance to make a great impact for all his warriors in this fight. For his brothers. For his queen.

He got so close, feeling the gentle, chilling strokes of shadow reaching out as if to greet him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the winged figure about to catch him, and Izaiah had to adjust course, tilting his body and descending low enough before shifting back into his fae form.

Tynan landed, facing off with him wearing an absolutely loathing stare.

“Maybe in another life,” the dark fae threw those words resentfully.

Izaiah almost flinched. “Your reading is coming along, I see.”

That was the note he’d given him, though Izaiah didn’t expect him to find the time to figure it out so soon with all the mess they were tied up in.

“I’m not going to let you do this. Sacrifice yourself. Because if that was your cowardly attempt to confess you care about me too, then you’re staying the fuck alive to say it better.”

Izaiah could have laughed. A delirious grin split his face because it was too late.

“Maybe in another life I’ll give you the grandest confession you desire, Tynan Silverfair. In this one, I’m afraid I’m the asshole who let you down. That should make it easier for you.”

Tynan’s jaw worked and his stance shifted, preparing to fight him to stop him if that’s what it took. Izaiah didn’t want to hurt him, but he had to… to save him.

The void sounded like trapped roars and strained wails swirling in powerful gales of wind behind him. It tousled Tynan’s dirty blond hair, lashing strands across his pleading eyes. Gods he was beautiful. In a way so precious Izaiah had never admired a person like it before when it struck him far deeper beyond the surface of natural attraction. Izaiah had come to look at Tynan as though he were his.

“What do you think you’re doing?” That harsh demand didn’t come from the dark fae, and Izaiah’s sight slipped to Kyleer as he landed.

“We’re not children anymore. I need you to stop acting like a damned suffocating parent for once.” His bitter words carved in himself as much as they caused a wince on Kyleer’s expression.

Izaiah had thought Kyleer missing his memory might be a temporary blessing. Just for this. Yet his brother was still looking out for him as fiercely as ever.

“We don’t know how to close that void,” Tynan argued. “I assume that was your objective.”

“We do know how,” Izaiah argued.

Tynan’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not walking into that thing. If it wants a life, I’ll go.”

Izaiah gave a dark chuckle. “Don’t act a hero for me. It’s pitiful.”

“Arrogant of you to think I’d be sacrificing myself for you.”

Izaiah took a long backward step closer to the rift behind him, and both Tynan and Kyleer jerked forward as if they could stop him if he twisted and ran. His frustration grew.

In his peripheral, Izaiah caught the moving shadows. They were seconds from being swarmed, and Kyleer’s eyes widened on him, terrified.

“You’ve always looked out for me, brother. Always sacrificed for me and shielded me.” Kyleer’s eyes widened on his, and the pain slashing through him for this goodbye was immeasurable. “It’s my turn for once. Because you deserve to be happy in this life that has made it difficult for you to find those things.”

“IZAIAH!”

Kyleer’s scream of his name attacked his very core, while Tynan’s pierced his heart. Neither could stop him as the shadow creatures reached them first and they were forced to fight, giving Izaiah the opportunity to spin on his heel, sprint toward the rift, and leap through into cold, reaching arms of Death.