Page 65 of The Crown of the Last Fae Queen (The Heartless and the Wicked #4)

Blár should have attacked her, saved the guard, and taken her down, but all he could imagine was Gunnar’s shocked and hurt face if Blár told him that he had allowed Astrid to be killed by the Royal Guard. Or if he told him that he was the one who’d defeated her.

Blár had warned Gunnar it was a stupid plan to begin with. Flirting with a guard from the fae army? Getting close to her? It was a recipe for disaster. Especially for his friend, who was goofy, idiotic, and trusting in nature.

If Ivar had done it? Blár was convinced there would be no feelings involved. But Gunnar? He was too soft for something like this.

And now, Blár couldn’t let this woman die, even if he wanted to. Because his best friend’s heart would break if that happened.

Cursing under his breath, he made the ground beneath the guard’s feet into solid ice, and the man slipped, nearly decapitating himself when Astrid drew her sword in one swift movement.

Blár erected a shield between them in a split second, and Astrid’s blade bounced off his ice.

Her eyebrows came together and she shifted her attention to him.

It took her exactly one second to come to the realization that he wasn’t on the fae’s side.

“You—” she started.

He came to stand between the guard and Astrid, and the bitter coldness of his power leaked from him and into the streets, crackling along his feet and splintering the cobbled stones. The royal guard scrambled to find his footing, while Astrid raised her sword at him, her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“Who are you?” she asked slowly, staring at the mask and then at his eyes. “You’re not a part of Ragnarok, are you?”

He didn’t bother answering her, instead choosing to glance over at the guard. “What’s the evacuation plan?”

The man blinked. “I-I don’t know?—”

So they didn’t have any precautions set in place? Blár gritted his teeth even tighter. Fenris had either become too arrogant, or he didn’t have an iron-clad grip on his own guards. Maybe the king was too pompous to think that anyone could penetrate this deep into the country.

Astrid charged at him, and he raised a single ice barrier to thwart her attack. She continued to slam her blade against it, even as it chipped away at the metal.

“There are people running to the outskirts of the capital to evacuate; help as many of them as you can,” Blár ordered.

The guard didn’t hesitate and bolted in the opposite direction. He blew out air, his breath fogging in front of him, and turned his attention back to the angry fae.

“Who are you?” she demanded again. “Why were you guarding Kolfinna? You … I trusted you with her! What did you to her?”

“I didn’t do anything.” He frowned while she continued striking at his ice, but it was no use.

Astrid screamed something as she raced around the ice shield, but he created a ball of solid ice in less than a second and chucked it at her full force.

Not enough to kill her, but enough to stun her.

It struck her chest and she fell backward, her body crashing against the nearest house.

The back of her head cracked against the wall and she slumped forward.

Blár paused at her collapsed body. He really shouldn’t have involved himself with her. He should have ignored her …

Sighing to himself, he created an ice barrier above her head that attached to the wall she was currently against. That way she had some protection from anything falling from above.

He didn’t have time to stay and do anything else, though, so he continued on his way.

He could practically hear Gunnar shouting at him for leaving Astrid alone, but he quelled that voice.

Tremors shook the ground and he hastened toward whatever was causing all this devastation. Or more precisely, who .

Agnarr flew above the streets; his wings were gossamer thin with streaks of deep emerald green and black, but the delicate appearance was a facade given the destruction he wreaked upon the city.

Giant vines rose from the ground, swatting at buildings and Royal Guards, and golden runes flew from his hands toward whatever he pointed to, where they exploded on contact with buildings.

Blár had never seen rune magic used in that way, just like with that portal. He was beginning to catch on that the ancient fae were far more powerful and crafty with their magic than the current fae.

He breathed through his nose and steeled his resolve.

He pulled his mana, thread by thread, letting it pool in every pore in his body.

Letting its residual coldness freeze everything around him.

The temperature in the streets rapidly descended with every breath, and some of the flying fae suddenly had trouble with the ice particles in the air, but they couldn’t pinpoint the origin. At least not yet.

Blár held his hand out and created an ice spear with a pointed, serrated head. His breath misted in front of him as he kept his eyes on his target.

Agnarr didn’t seem to notice him as he blasted away the Royal Guard buildings without a care. His golden hair shone in the light, and even from this distance, Blár could make out his wide grin.

In one fluid movement, Blár flexed his body and shot the spear at the male fae.

It ripped through the winterizing air and went straight to Agnarr.

The fae male moved away at the last second, but Blár was already shooting another one at him.

Agnarr continued to fly, dodging the attacks.

One of the spears grazed his bicep, and Agnarr blasted it with his other hand, but that only shot the ice spear into a different direction.

That was a good sign. If Agnarr couldn’t break his ice, that meant Blár’s mana and power exceeded his.

Though that wasn’t a good measure of winning the fight, because if Agnarr was craftier and more adept in battle than him, then it didn’t matter who had more raw power.

Agnarr turned his attention to Blár, a wide smile spreading on his face.

“I’ve seen you around.” His voice boomed down below as he flew away from the various shots Blár sent at him.

He spoke with ease, as if dodging wasn’t taking an effect on him.

“You’re one of the guards of the princess.

Or, well, it appears like you’re more of a pesky rat than that. ”

“Why don’t you come down here so we can talk properly?” Blár taunted back. This time, he sent a volley of ice arrows.

One of them nearly scraped the fae’s shoulder. Blár gritted his teeth together. Agnarr was far too skilled in aerial combat and no matter how many times Blár attacked him, he seemed to be able to dodge it with ease. Another skill the humans were ill prepared to face.

A vine erupted from the cobbled streets, aimed straight at Blár.

He rolled away, freezing the plant in seconds.

Agnarr manipulated more vines and roots, but Blár froze them while shooting his ice at the fae male.

They went on like that for what felt like hours: Blár bombarding him with ice arrows, spears, and spiked balls, and Agnarr dodging and manipulating the earth and plants.

Neither of them were any closer to defeating the other.

Further away, an explosion went off, sending a wave of heat throughout the capital. Blár glanced in the direction of the castle. Fenris was battling someone. The half-elf? Or one of the other generals?

Agnarr’s vine slammed into Blár’s abdomen and he reeled back, pain shuddering through his figure. He leaped away from the vine, freezing the plant and rolling away from a hunk of stone the fae shot at him.

Damn it. Now wasn’t the time to be distracted.

Blár filled the air with ice knives, leaving them suspended for a few seconds before he made them turn simultaneously toward Agnarr, who instantly drew his sword.

He released the knives and they shot forward.

The fae struck as many as he could with his sword, and a blast of explosions went off as he tried destroying them with his rune magic.

They struck his legs, his arms, and his abdomen.

But Blár didn’t stop there, he created more, and more, until the sky was heavy with them and Agnarr was having trouble keeping up.

Right when Blár thought he had him, a vine struck him in the chest and he flew backward.

On instinct, a thin ice armor encapsulated his body right before he knocked into a building and it crumbled on impact, the bricks cracking and scraping along his flesh.

He blinked through the pain. A sharpness prodded his chest with every breath.

Great. A broken rib.

Another exhale, and another shot of pain.

He cursed. Maybe two broken ribs.

He shoved the debris off himself and staggered to his feet, his attention swiveling to the fae male, who wasn’t in the sky anymore.

No, he was on the ground, yanking out the ice arrows from his body and storming toward Blár with a sinister grin on his face.

His sword gleamed in the sunlight, and glowing runes were written into the center of the blade.

“Why does your mana feel so different than the other humans around?” Agnarr asked. “The air around you is most definitely human, but you see, I have a particularly sensitive nose, and I can smell that you have fae mana on you.”

Blár had no idea what he was talking about. As far as he knew, he was human through and through.

As if reading his mind, Agnarr said, “No, you’re completely human. I can tell that much. And when you were guarding the princess, you were most definitely completely human there, too. So … that makes me wonder. Did you mate with a fae?”

Blár created a sword with his ice, a grin twisting his own lips. He didn’t know what the fae male was talking about, but he assumed he was speaking about the Bryllup ceremony. The mating ceremony for the fae. Did sharing Kolfinna’s bed change things? It would make sense if it did.

“I didn’t know fae could smell mana,” Blár said.

“Most can’t.”