Page 73 of Immortal Origins (Chronicles of the Immortal Trials #1)

A cry escaped her lips as Eurus’ teeth dug deep to the bone. Searing pain shot up her arm and black spider veins grew from where his teeth punctured her. It was as though her arm was on fire as the black tendrils snaked their way up her arm, dark saliva dripping on her arm from the bite.

She pierced her sword through his heart but he didn’t let go.

She pulled her elbow back and brought it up into his face, his nose making a horrible crunch as they connected, but when she pulled away there was no blood.

Only more of the vile black tar-like substance that fell from his nose and mouth.

She doubled over as the smell of decay fully hit her, nausea knocking at the back of her throat.

The black rot dug its way into her skin, burning every nerve it touched.

She pulled the bandage from her ankle and quickly wrapped it around her upper bicep to try to keep it from spreading further up her arm.

Biting back against the pain, she raised a sweaty head just in time to block one of Podara’s blades as it went flying for her.

“I said kill her!” Danthan let out a feral screech.

The twins reached for her, fingers curling at the air as she jumped back. Their moans filled the chamber as she stepped around their bodies, hoping she could find some way to get through to her friend—if he was even still inside the decaying necromancer.

“I’m sorry I left you!” she cried. Her heart squeezed in her chest and she truly meant it. “You’re right, I should’ve stayed. I should’ ve been there for you guys.”

“It’s too late for sorry,” Danthan hissed.

“I should’ve known you needed me,” Ambrose continued, “I should’ve stayed and fought by your side—died by your side if that’s what fate chose.”

Danthan shrieked and covered his ears. “Enough!”

“I was wrong. I failed you. I failed all of you,” she pleaded. “I’m sorry.”

Podara threw another dagger that fell at Ambrose’s feet. She kicked it away so Podara’s body couldn’t grab it with whatever strength she had left in her rotting corpse.

Danthan writhed, roaring as he pressed his hands harder to his ears. “I said, enough!”

Oryon lunged for her the same time Eurus did and their bodies clashed together as she sidestepped their approach.

Their flesh made a squelching sound as they collided and their skin stuck together, flesh ripping apart as the twins pulled themselves back to their feet and limped for her again.

There was no recognition in their eyes, and nothing left of the men Ambrose knew.

Puppets on a string that had no say against their master.

A sharp pain cut across the nape of her neck as one of Podara’s blades grazed her and clattered to the ground. Ambrose turned to face her and her cold white eyes reflected none of the woman she remembered.

The three of them limped towards her, bodies stumbling under the weight of being forced to move. She held her arm as she realized what she had to do. There was only one way to help them all now.

Danthan stood in the center of the chamber, eyes glaring with pure hatred.

She couldn’t save him.

She couldn’t save any of them.

Because she left them, this is what they’d become. Their deaths were her fault and she would carry them to her dying breath.

It was time to end it.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t save you—any of you.

I promise I’ll put you to rest and hope I see you in the next lifetime.

” Ambrose lifted her hands and let her channels flow.

Let the energy inside her build to a rising crescendo as the warmth in her veins filled with love and respect.

This time, she wouldn’t wield with hate or grief.

Not with anger or fear. She brought her hand around in one sweep and let her fire explode from the bodies of her fallen friends.

Purple flames burst from their chests and quickly engulfed the corpses, slowing their movements down even more as their skin melted off and their muscles stopped moving. Ambrose covered her mouth and nose as Danthan’s furious screams filled the space.

Their bodies dropped to the floor and though they still twitched, she knew they wouldn’t last long.

Sweat pooled on her forehead, whether from the growing pain from the bite in her arm, or from the nerves in her body, she didn’t know or care.

All she cared about was helping her friends.

Danthan rushed towards her, fingers extended as though he had claws and wanted to tear her limb from limb. Ambrose stood her ground and held the hilt of her sword firmly in her grip. Tears rolled down her cheeks and she knew she would carry their memory for lifetimes.

“You murderer!” Danthan screeched as he reached for her.

She planted her feet and swung her sword until it met rotting flesh—and then nothing.

Danthan’s body stopped as his black eyes pierced hers one last time before his head and body fell separately to the ground.

For a small moment, she saw something flash across his eyes and she told herself she hadn’t seen it.

The anger she felt towards herself too strong to recognize the small glimpse of gratitude before Danthan’s body fell and the burning bodies of the fallen warriors stopped moving.

Their mana was too much, it had driven him completely mad.

How long had Casimir been holding them down here, waiting for this moment?

She looked around at the bodies. Her friends.

They no longer moved with the false life given to them, now that his magick had been severed.

Sobs racked her chest and Ambrose dropped her sword, wrapping her arms around herself as she let the tears fall. Rage she didn’t know she could produce filled her veins, her body, her soul, as her own screams of agony filled the chamber.

Rage for herself and—

Casimir.

She didn’t have time. She wiped the tears from her face and just as she had done for Felius, she pulled the ground apart and made four fresh graves that gently absorbed her friends.

Flowers that individually made her think of them sprouted from the dirt.

Picking up her sword, she placed it back in its sheath and whispered, “You can rest now.”

She didn’t have time to grieve.

Didn’t have time to rest.

It was time to go.

Ambrose picked up one of Podara’s daggers and placed it next to the one Adym had given her.

Tucked away in her corset, she welcomed the bite of metal as the tip dragged against her skin.

With one last look at where she’d just buried them, she turned and walked through one of the archways, leaving them—but never their memory—behind.