Page 54

“With the others. I will take you,” he tells me as he points toward the castle, and he runs ahead while I stagger, trying to keep up with him. I can hear fighting and the chaos of war.

Peter runs up the incline as more children rush down the hill with staff. I see Clarice standing at the top when she suddenly screams, making my heart splutter in my chest, and adrenaline fuels me to move faster.

I slip on the wet grass, coming up behind her to see Azalea stop, and Trey screams out for her at that exact second. I track her movements to see her go after Logan, who is walking into the line of fire and in the wrong direction. My eyes widen in horror, and my heart pumps erratically.

A gasp escapes me when I see Azalea run directly into the path of the hunters to retrieve him. It feels like everything slows down, time almost stopping for a few fateful moments. Or maybe I think it does as I watch my mate risk her life to save the boy.

Trey shoves Tyson into Clarice’s arms and runs after her just as I regain my footing on the slippery slope when Abbie screams out to her.

Azalea lifts her head and looks at Abbie just as Abbie’s body collides with Azalea’s, her arms locking around her in a hug, and at the last second, Abbie pivots.

That’s when I notice the hunter with his gun aimed directly at her.

As the echoes of the gunshot tear through the air, a heart-stopping silence falls. I see Abbie’s body jolt against Azalea, their forms entwined. Time slows, almost to a halt, as the dreadful reality unfolds before my eyes.

Azalea’s face, a mask of raw, unfiltered horror, twists in agony as she clutches Abbie closer.

Her scream—a soul-shattering wail—cuts through the chaos, slicing into the marrow of my bones.

It’s a sound that etches itself into the core of my being, a haunting scream that makes my entire body cold as if bitten by frost.

The profound pain that erupts through our bond is glacial, that seizes my heart and squeezes mercilessly.

It’s as if Azalea’s anguished spirit reaches through the bond, clutching my soul, shredding it with her grief.

At that moment, my own heart feels scorched, incinerated within my chest by the ferocity of her despair.

Clutching my chest, I can barely keep my balance as I stagger down the hill, each step heavy, drawn toward Azalea’s grieving figure.

She cradles Abbie’s limp form, an image of devastating loss painted against the chaotic backdrop of battle.

Azalea’s cries pierce the air again, a broken, haunted melody of utter devastation.

“Abbie! No!” Her scream booms and cracks through the air like thunder, her agony doesn’t just scream, it erupts something from within her, knocking me on my ass. Sitting up, I find everyone shaken, sitting up like they too felt the agony through my bond with her.

Gannon’s howl rips through the sky, a sound of such profound loss that it mirrors the void opening inside me from Azalea. Tyson, his little face streaked with tears, breaks from Clarice’s grasp, his cries for his mother adding to the chorus of heartbreak.

Trey tackles the hunter just as another shot fires, a near miss that sends a shiver down my spine. But all I can focus on is Azalea, her voice ragged as she rocks back and forth, clutching Abbie to her chest.

“Abbie! Abbie!” she screams into the void, her voice nothing but raw agony. She pleads, begs, her words a mantra of despair. “You promised, you promised. More than my life, Abbie, more than my life!” she wails.

Her cries don’t just break the silence; they shatter it, sending shards scattering into the hearts of all who hear her.

This isn’t just grief; it’s a soul being torn to pieces, a vivid, visceral loss so intense that it threatens to consume everything in its wake.

It’s as if her soul is dying with her. Just then, I notice the Eclipsarian nestled between her cleavage blink, catching on the light, making me look up.

But there is no sun. My brows furrow, goosebumps lacing my skin from the cold void eating away at my insides.

Hunters lay strewn across the ground, most of them dead as my guards and the Landeena guards take out the last of them on the hill.

Yet I can see more are coming up from the river and from around the sides of the castle.

We are severely outnumbered, and all I can think is I need to get to Azalea, yet she isn’t moving, and isn’t letting her go, she just stops as if a part of her has died along with Abbie.

Logan escapes from in between Azalea and Abbie, running to Clarice as Azalea rocks back and forth on the ground with Abbie clutched in her arms. “More than my life! More than my life!” she screams, her fingers tangling in Abbie’s hair, as if saying it loud enough will bring her back.

Gannon, reaching her, falls to his knees, clutching his dead mate in his arms, forgetting the war going on around us.

I am lost in the tragedy when I feel a blade slice down my back, forcing my attention back to the fight.

I am forced to fight my way to them as I spin to find a hunter has come at me from the side, his dagger embedded in my side.

I pull it free, my claws sinking into the side of his neck as I slash at him.

Trey moves alongside me as hunters suddenly come from everywhere. From up over the hills, out of the forest, and spewing out from the castle, they just keep coming. Even those who had run for safety in the bunkers are now spewing back onto the battleground as hunters chase them back toward us.

The Landeena guards and my guards form a circle around our Queen. Clarice flees with the kids, and Peter barely makes it past our circle of defense that offers little safety as all the guards move to cover their Queen.

Guns are drawn and aimed at my body, my back becoming a target as they unleash on us. I groan as a bullet hits me in my side, then my stomach, making me clutch it. Pain ricochets through me, and I stagger as I keep fighting. Nothing else matters, only Azalea does.

Another bullet pierces through my shoulder when I hear her scream as she feels my pain.

The ground shakes, and I am brought to my knees, my lungs wheezing for breath.

Everyone pauses at the tremor in the ground, but I hear no explosion, which has me looking around nervously when Crux’s booming voice echoes through smoke and dust as they surround us.

This day will always be remembered as the day the Valkyrie Kingdom fell.

The day the hunters took the Lycania Kingdoms down.

We are circled entirely as Crux steps out of the shadows and smoke and onto the battlefield. His smug smile of triumph sears into me. He is a traitor to his own kind. A betrayer to all.