Page 38 of The Path of Blood and Betrayals

My mind worries about my siblings, but I know better. Fee is a warrior, trained since birth to lead. And I trained Reid. They’ll both be fine.

Griffin’s guards fall by the dozens as hours drag on. The raiders feel like a never-ending wave, cutting down their forces with strong strikes. Dripping in blood, I scream as a moment of distraction causes me to be injured.

Two daring red soldiers flinch when I look over my shoulder, amber eyes swallowed by black. They’re both incredibly young, Human and stupid to attack me. My shadows react, called on by my need to fight, and I lash out, black hands grabbing their throats.

It’s barely more than a twitch before their necks are crushed, heads bent at an odd angle and bodies discarded. My shoulder burns, body already mending the cut but it doesn’t mean it’s pleasant. All Fae can heal but it hurts to fuse our skin back together.

Until now, I’ve refused to use my magic. It takes more energy than raising a sword, and in the middle of battle, it’s the opportune time for my beast to seize control. I can’t allow that to happen.

But right now, all those thoughts have fled me as my body aches and the smell of blood growstoo much to ignore.

It’s been too long since I’ve tasted blood. But I can’t risk my control.Not now.

The beast rampages inside me as I stalk the battleground, dispatching brave raiders. Leaping out, my shadows crush bodies, slamming them into the ground or castle walls. Palace guards watch, mouths slacked but I don’t care. Wrangling my beast, I shove it further back, white knuckling my control as my magic annihilates.

I kill everyone. Royal guards, raiders, they all look the same.They all die the same.

Once the rush stops, I drop against the palace wall, face sweating, body sore and close the lid on my beast. He goes with a fight, thrashing, clawing and I wince, feeling those nails rake into my skull.

It’s been so long since he’s been unmanageable. This doesn’t bode well for my mission.

Pushing my head into the stoned wall, I close my eyes, exhaling through the grit and ignore the call of blood. It’s there, sweet at candy, but I refuse.I can’t.

An aroma, ripe and full of life, assaults my nose and my beast howls, lurching from his mental cage. Falling to my knees with need, my fingers dig into the mortar, holding firm.

What is that?

Glancing up, I seeherin the window. Her black, almost violet strands billowing in the air, soot painting her pale cheeks to a stark gray. Her eyes catch me though, red dripping from their corners like a fallen goddess.

Her fingers raise, tips black from my angle, twisting into odd patterns with an unnatural grace. She plays with the strings of life, a goddess of life and death as I follow her gaze.

The Witch swings his sword at a raider with another advancing from behind. I’m too far to do anything, but I don’t need to. The woman above me sees it. Fingers move and the solider jerks, feet stopped, eyes wide.

I can smell his terror from here.

Blood pours from his mouth as his hands claw at his chest,digging for a way to ease the assault. But it’s not there, and I inhale, smiling at the surge of magic coming from above.

His body crumples, blood soaking the already covered ground as life explodes from his eyes.

The advisor—Max’s magic is beautiful, so strong it stirs my beast into a godsdamn frenzy.

But how?—

Blood magic.Surprise slaps me across the face, pieces falling into place quickly. She’s a blood summoner—she can control a being’sblood.

The Witch finally finishes his kill, looking to the dead body in confusion. When I peer up at the window, she’s gone. No one would know she saved the Witch.Except for me.

Something in the way her eyes had looked, full of carnage and beauty, hits my chest,hard. My monster thrashes against his bars, begging for release as I walk away. I need distance otherwise, my control will fail completely.

Walking a few paces, I see the lord who attempted to assault her run into my path.

Impaling a soldier, he leans over his corpse, stumbling back. Somehow the weasel is still alive. I’d be more impressed if I didn’t want to rip his throat out for daring to touch her.

He dared to harm a woman—not just any woman. One who matters to me. My resolve snaps and I fly across the battlefield, Fae speed abnormally quick.

He barely registers me before I’m grabbing his throat, his weak Human legs dangling over the dirt. He gurgles something unintelligible, but I ignore it, beast howling, rage coursing through my veins.

Smiling at his struggle, he freezes, his terror seizing his lungs and I grin, inhaling his fear.