Page 13

13

Lir

The first crash happened about ten minutes ago, originating from the opposite end of the cell block and strong enough to shake the very foundation of the castle. The key Malice hung a few days ago wobbled but refused to fall despite its precarious position. Ever since, the three of us have been silently staring at the small metal chunk that holds our freedom, willing it with our minds to tumble.

If I had any magical energy left in my body, I would simply make it drop, but I’ve long since run dry, and without a food source, there’s no way to restore it.

“Do you think Malice is playing a trick on us?”

Roark doesn’t take his eye off the key, but his brow furrows in concern. “It has crossed my mind.”

“Well, then there’s the source of our problem,” Cyprien grumbles. “If you think it, it becomes reality. All your negativity is fucking up the vibes.” He waves a hand in the air with an exasperated sigh. “If I were that key, I wouldn’t want to help you, either.”

Roark grits his teeth. “The key ? The inanimate object doesn’t want to help us? Is that really what you’re going with?”

Cyprien brings a finger to his lips, seemingly deep in thought. “No, that’s ridiculous. I said it didn’t want to help you out specifically.”

A low growl builds in Roark’s chest as his eyes flicker between purple and onyx, the vein on the side of his neck thrumming with a murderous rage. Before he has the chance to lunge at Cyprien, another explosion breaks the tension, shaking the walls of our cell with twice as much violence as before. Spiderweb cracks spread across the ceiling as rubble rains down on our heads, covering the ground in a thick layer of dust and stone.

“That’s not good,” I murmur, tugging weakly against my chains as the walls continue to vibrate. “Not good at all.”

Cyprien whips his head toward me with a glare. “What did I say about the negativity? You’re making it impossible to?—”

“ You’re impossible!” Roark slams his fist against the wall, carving a deep crater into the stone and adding to the violent tremors wracking the castle. “It’s not going to fall! It’s never going to fucking fall! Malice left us here to die, to laugh at us, and I?—”

A gentle tinkling noise pierces through the chaos, stopping Roark mid-sentence. We all whip our heads toward the entrance where a small iron key is lying inside the bars—well within Cyprien’s grasp.

“Oh my gods…” Roark is the first to speak, his voice filled with awe and a sprinkle of irritation. “The bastard actually did it.”

“I guess the bad vibes worked,” I say, turning to Cyprien with a raised brow. “You can admit you were dead fucking wrong at any time. I’m patient.”

Cyprien tilts his head, his expression eerily stony. “Nobody likes a sore winner, Lir.”

Irritation heats the back of my neck as I watch his mouth tip upward in a maddening smirk. Don’t react. Don’t react. Don’t react.

“You little shit-stirring, maggot-eating, sun-dried piece of rotten haggis. You have no right to?—”

“WHY?”

Cyprien and I whip toward Roark, our mouths slightly ajar at the look of utter fury pinching his bearded face.

“ Why ,” he repeats, “am I the only fucking person who would rather leave this hellhole than sit around arguing like a pair of babbling geese?”

I bring a hand to my mouth, stifling my laugh—noting that Lir does the same, his shoulders shaking silently as he tries to hold in his chuckle.

Roark’s gaze narrows, holding out his hand with an expression made of stone. “Give me the fucking key. Now.”

Choking down his amusement, Cyprien tosses the key to the murderous demon. As Roark unlocks his cuffs, I make eye contact with Cyprien, my mouth pulling upward into a rare smirk. “ Babbling geese?” I mouth.

“I know, right?” Cyprien mouths back, his expression closing off as he gestures to my left, where Roark is offering me the key. I quickly unlatch my restraints and pass it off to Cyprien, attempting to rise as he inserts it into the lock on his wrist. A powerful sigh blows past his lips as the chains clatter to the floor, his eyes rolling to the back of his skull as his raw, throbbing skin is freed of the iron. Roark shuffles over, offering his forearm to aid Cyprien despite their earlier argument.

Once we’re all upright, we look toward the cell door, the same question swirling in our minds.

“Well?” Cyprien asks. “What are we supposed to do now?”

I inspect the thick iron bars, seriously doubting our ability to knock them down with sheer strength alone. If we all work together, maybe, but I doubt any of us will be able to stand after.

A faint snapping noise draws my attention to the ceiling, noting the fine fissures spreading down to the walls, splitting the stone supporting the cell bars. The iron screams as the stone gives way around the supports, crumbling to the ground in a heap of dust and debris. And with the stone goes the bars, crashing to the cracked stone floor with a crash loud enough to wake the dead.

We share wide-eyed glances, none of us sure if what we’re witnessing is reality or some crazed hallucination.

“So fucking creepy,” Cyprien whispers, shaking his head slowly. “This is bullshit. How could he possibly know that would happen?”

“I’m not sure I want to know,” Roark grumbles, taking the first step toward freedom. “Come on. I need to find Dagny.”

My chest pangs at the mention of our mate, my veins filling with the same desperation in Roark's voice. “She can’t be far. The explosion came from the other wing of the dungeon.”

“How do you know she caused it?” Cyprien asks.

“No other being in this world could turn Slaine’s castle to rubble in one blow. It has to be her.”

I stumble after Roark into the darkened corridor, pressing a palm to the wall to remain upright as we move in the direction of the explosion. As we prepare to walk straight through the four-way split in the tunnels, a faint green light draws my attention to the hallway on my right. I grip Roark’s forearm, pulling him to a stop as the twin emerald orbs draw nearer, bobbing lightly with each step and accompanied by a low, warning growl.

It can’t be…

“ Fenryr ?”

The demon halts, eyes narrowing to slits as the growl turns to a snarl. The light in his eyes is snuffed out in a blink, eclipsed by the shadows swirling over his tensed shoulders, consuming the familiar green as his canines elongate, piercing his lower lip.

I blink past the shadows, taking in the hollow cheekbones and tattered rags hanging limply over his battered, malnourished frame. “ Fenryr… is that truly you? ” I whisper, my voice shaking with awe and disbelief.

I would advise against touching or talking to him. He’s… consumed by other things at the moment.

My gaze widens as I look past Fenryr’s shoulder, finding Kaebl’s golden eyes staring back. “You… how did you get out of your cell?”

I could ask you the same thing. He takes a step forward, careful not to brush against Fenryr. But we don’t have time to explain. We have to get Dagny out of here before ? —

Another explosion breaks out, weaker than the last but originating from the same area as all the others. An ear-shattering, demonic shriek pierces the air at the same time a blast of wind rushes through the western tunnel, powerful enough to send the group of us flying sideways through the air.

My body crumples to the floor as a series of cracking, thudding, and crashing sounds fill the tunnels, accompanied by another blast of air that sends pieces of the ceiling crumbling to the floor. I lie on my back, watching the hairline fissures spread through the stone slab, then breaking away, sending a massive chunk of debris falling straight for my head. A large, calloused palm wraps around my forearm, yanking me out of the way just before it makes impact with the ground, shattering into hundreds of tiny chunks. The air thickens with a cloud of debris and the screams of a thousand frantic demon soldiers as the foundation of the castle crumbles and falls away, drowning out all sight and sound with its thunderous surrender.

That same hand yanks me to my feet, dragging me down the passage that leads to the stairwell—away from Dagny.

“Stop!” I scream, fighting against his hold to no avail. “We can’t leave her!”

The creature in front of me doesn’t respond, just tightens his hold as he drags me up the crumbling staircase to the main level of the palace. I look over my shoulder, my vision tunneling as I search through the chaos for the other soul pieces—but they’re nowhere to be seen.

“Stop!” I command, the demon's claws slicing through my skin as I try to pull my arm free one last time. “We have to go back!”

A wolflike snarl pierces through the chaos as Fenryr whips his head to face me, his eyes pitch black and expression devoid of humanity. “We go to Dagny.”

“Dagny’s in the dungeon, you stupid mutt!” I snap, rearing back my free hand to deliver a blow.

Something solid barrels into the center of my back, knocking the air from my lungs and pushing me farther in the direction Fenryr is pulling me. I whip toward the threat, only to find Cyprien’s yellow eyes staring back, just as shocked as I am.

Kaebl and Roark stumble into view a moment later, their skin covered in soot and large gashes staining their arms and faces. I’m so consumed by the sight, it takes me several seconds to notice Fenryr tugging on my arm, desperately trying to move me toward the doorway.

The entrance to the dungeons caves in with a boom, causing a series of vibrations to travel along the ornate floor. The stone beneath my feet fissures, cracking beneath my weight like thin ice over the lake, and my eyes find Kaebl’s, reflecting the same sense of dread filling up the pit in my stomach.

Go, now!

At his order, I allow Fenryr to pull me through the open palace doors. We stumble outside, rolling down the staircase in a tangle of limbs and wings before crashing to the ice below. Pain bursts across my forearm as a small pop breaks the air, and I look down with hooded eyes to see my left arm bent at an odd angle.

I blink against the searing agony, struggling to my knees as a mournful howl echoes into the barren landscape. I turn to find Fenryr crouched on all fours, his chin tipped back as the hollow note bursts from his open mouth.

A flapping sound draws my attention to my left, where Cyprien is lowering to the ground, his face pinched in agony as his broken wings beat erratically against the roaring wind. Kaebl and Roark stumble down the same stairwell Fenryr and I used, their wings hanging limply from their shoulders, brushing the frozen steps and coating the tips in ice.

Just as they make it to the bottom, Fenryr latches onto my forearm, his eyes glinting with a terrifying desperation as he attempts to haul me away from the crumbling palace. I pull against him, refusing to let him take me any farther from my mate—my Dagny.

“No!” I yell. “No! I won’t leave her down there!”

Fenryr snarls, jumping away just in time to dodge the blow intended for his face. He crouches low, his chest heaving as his gaze flickers with shadows, his shoulders trembling as he tries to gain control of his beast. “ She’s going… going to meet us there.”

“Meet us where ?” Cyprien demands. “We have to save her before the castle?—”

Before he can finish, Fenryr turns and starts running in the opposite direction of the palace, his injured and bleeding legs taking him as fast as they’re able to the line of welwigs that line the outskirts of Slaine’s territory. Kaebl stares after him for a few moments, then turns his attention to Roark, his chin tipping in an inconspicuous nod.

Roark lunges, grabbing Cyprien’s arm in his massive palm and using his inhuman strength to haul him, snarling and fighting, across the ice after Fenryr. I try to push to my feet, to run back into the castle, but then Kaebl is there, his face like fire as he blocks the entrance.

We have to go, Lir. We have to follow Fenryr.

“But Dagny?—”

She’ll be okay. He looks over his shoulder, his eyes pinching in jealousy. She’s with Malice.

He reaches for my arm, his intention clear—but we both know he’s not strong enough to handle me the way Roark is Cyprien. I wave him off, rising to a stand and casting one last, mournful glance toward the castle.

Lir, we have to go.

My breath billows out in a thick cloud of vapor as I stumble after Kaebl, the tree line seemingly miles away. Fenryr is a pinprick in the distance by now, racing full tilt toward the welwigs despite the toll it’s taking on his body.

We make it halfway to the trees before a massive tremor shakes the earth, accompanied by a thunderous roar of cracks and pops that has us freezing in place. I turn, and my heart skips a beat at the chaos that greets me.

Unlike earlier, the rumbling refuses to cease, causing the ice beneath the castle to fissure and break away. In the next blink, the ground caves in, giving way to a massive chasm that seems to split the earth in half. The great stone towers fall inward as the foundation collapses, crushing the flood of soldiers attempting to flee the crumbling structure. All at once, the castle is lost to a cloud of thick, billowing snow, spreading across the land in a great white explosion.

“NO!” The scream that tears from my chest threatens to cleave the sky apart, filled with enough rage and anguish to bring me to my knees. The ice rumbles beneath me, answering my pain with a cacophony of cracks and grinding as the fissures spread across the landscape at an alarming rate.

Come on! Kaebl yanks me backward across the ice, refusing to look back at the wreckage, focused on making it to the tree line before the ground gives away. Kable makes it one single step beneath the canopy and collapses, dragging me beneath the shimmering white leaves just as another wave of energy travels across the land, widening the chasm and causing the world to shift on its axis.

I peek through the curtain of leaves, looking at the cool gray sky as dread settles in the base of my throat. She has to be okay… If she’s not, I can’t… I won’t be able to go on.

The bond vibrates, warm and soothing and filled with a living, breathing energy that assuages all of my fears. I blink, and a ball of bright light shoots toward the heavens, cloaked in swirling red shadows and accompanied by a piercing demonic scream. The shadows turn, beaming straight toward the line of welwigs at an alarming speed.

Through the haze, Malice’s face appears, eyes filled with the same darkness swirling around his shoulders and lips peeled back in agony. His wings are in tatters, his skin scorched and falling off in places, but none of that matters. Because in his arms is the creature my soul has been crying out for.

Dagny.

Standing against the thick fog are a pair of wings—beautiful onyx feathered ones that drape luxuriously over Malice’s forearm. Her eyes are closed, her body limp, but the glowing silver light pulsing from her skin is bursting with energy, with light, with life. The sight has my eyes misting, my soul singing, and suddenly, everything is perfectly, utterly fine.

She’s alive.