Page 3 of As Above, So Below

“Protect the Sovereign King.”

My brows raise.

Not simply some fae lord, but a Sovereign King of a fae country. The reasons behind Netharis seeking his soul become clear.

“Send for the healer!”

“Send for the guardian!”

The orders ripple through the field, echoed by various voices as soldiers shift, fighting to gain ground, to get closer to their king. In my chest, the hunting instinct grows feverish, it won’t be much longer before I can collect his soul.

The first of the soldiers reaches Thalion, leaping over the dying horse to remove Thalion’s helm. Bright crimson blood pours down the side of his face and he begins to cough. Of the two creatures dying, I’ve more sympathy for the steed.

Kneeling beside the creature, it stares up at me with wide, dark eyes, nostrils flared with labored breathing. Standing on the precipice of death, it sees me clearly now. Deep red blood leaks from the gash in its ribs, showing no evidence of slowing soon.

“I wasn’t here for you,” I whisper, reaching for its nose once again. “But I will give you painless release.”

With my touch, it looses a long breath, its eyes growing unfocused as its chest deflates. More soldiers begin to emerge from the fighting, creating a protective ring around Thalion, trapping me inside with them.

If only they knew the depth of their mistake.

“You should leave,” Thalion’s voice rings out, weak compared to the orders he’d shouted moments ago.

Lifting my gaze from the horse, I’d expected to see him speaking to the soldier beside him. Instead, vibrant violet eyes meet mine.

“Your Majesty,” the soldier believes his king is talking to him, “I cannot—”

“Go!” he barks the word, the force of it causing yet another coughing fit. His eyes don’t leave mine as I stand.

Hesitating, the soldier pulls himself to a stand and reluctantly backs away.

“Not yet, Death Bringer,” he says, his voice so low I barely hear him.

Unable to ignore the call of the hunting instinct, I leap over the horse, wings extending, and land, kneeling beside him. A small, knowing smile curls my lips.

“You signed a contract.” My eyes narrow. “There is no escaping the god of death.”

“I think you’ll find there is,” he laughs, letting his head loll back against the stone.

A strange sensation unfurls itself in my chest, a tugging. Similar to the hunting instinct, but it doesn’t lead me to Thalion. Instead, it beckons me to the right. Head swiveling, Thalion smiles.

“Brother,” he wheezes, a sound that would have been lost to the cacophony around us had I not been so close.

His chest heaves and falls and does not rise again. The light in his violet eyes fades, his stare growing blank. Wasting no time, I plunge a hand into the center of his chest, curling my fingers around his soul. With a firm pull, my hand breaks free, fingers wrapped around a palm-sized ball of red light.

Its color proof the soul has been promised to my father.

A sanity shattering scream tears through the air, the sound laden with loss and mourning. It appears Thalion’s mate is somewherein this fight, and their bond now lies broken.

The radiant red glow of the soul illuminates the area around me, washing over Thalion’s pallid face. A flash of a silver blade streaks toward my throat and freezes centimeters from its mark. Confused, I freeze, gripping the soul and my innate tight.

“Return him,” a male demands, pressing the blade to my throat.

The voice resonates in my chest with a familiarity I don’t understand. It’s as if I’ve heard it thousands of times. Too stunned to move, struggling to make sense of the feeling, of the situation, I remain still.

The blade rises, forcing my chin up. Through the corner of my eye, I trace the blade to its wielder, and a pair of golden eyes stare down at me.

“Do not make this mistake, mortal,” I manage through clenched teeth.