Page 19 of Voidwalker (Beasts of the Void #1)

“If you refuse to abdicate,” Verne announced. “Then by the edicts of the Daey Celva, I deem you unfit. I claim your territory.” Her voice lowered, slicing over teeth. “And if you won’t step down of your own volition, I will make you do it.”

Outside, claws scraped the walls of the chateau.

Fi remembered that sound. Remembered what came after.

Antal looked equally horrified. He scented the air, shuddering as he backed away from Verne.

A monstrous form dropped to the patio, landing with a screech of claws on tile.

The creature gathered itself in a hunch of tail and sickly pale skin, more a Beast than any other in the room, as much a nightmare as it had been in Thomaskweld.

Just as wrong , the way its pantherine limbs bent at sharp angles.

Twilight glinted off gnarled antlers, pooled shadows in the skeletal lines of its horse head.

Another growl rumbled its throat, pupil-less red irises latching to prey, saliva thick on its teeth.

Fi froze, not daring to run. Not daring to take her gaze off the creature she’d half hoped was a nightmare.

“Veshri vavrae,” Antal breathed. “Verne. What have you done?”

That was his best response to a fucking antlered-horse-panther dropping out of the sky?

Fi braced for the Beast to lunge. Energy leached from her arm and warmed her fingertips, hopefully enough for a shield. The creature came at the door in a single lurch, lean muscle shifting beneath its hide.

Then it bowed its head, heeling like a dog beside Verne. When the Beast tilted a blank red eye at her, she stroked a hand down its skeletal snout.

Fi made a sound she’d never recalled uttering in all her mortal life, some squeak between shock and outrage.

But Antal—his reaction was visceral. A hiss through fangs and breath visibly shallow.

“Have you ever seen one in person?” Verne cooed, hand resting upon the abomination’s muzzle. “Or did your travel years not take you far enough from the Twilit Plane? They’re not uncommon, out in the fiercer parts of the Planeverse.”

“Where it’s supposed to be.” Was that a crack in Antal’s voice?

Graciously, Fi granted him this one. She’d seen this abomination rip humans to pieces, yet, somehow, Verne had it on a leash?

“Daeyari are meant to wander, as Veshri did,” Verne said. “Yet those of you from the Twilit Plane? Too rooted. Now you venture here, a child whose antlers have barely curled, one mere Plane cluster away from home. And you think you know enough to rule a territory?”

“It doesn’t belong here. Much less as a pet.”

“A pet?” Verne sneered. “Of course not. They can be feral, yet still intelligent. Amenable, even, given proper incentive.” Her palm shifted calmly to the Beast’s shoulder.

Not just calm. Verne was in control, leading every step of this duel. Fi realized too late: this wasn’t a negotiation.

This was an ultimatum. And Fi was caught between two immortals.

She had no sword. No energy capsules. Not even a damn coat. Panic soured her stomach—the instincts of a hare caught in a den of carnivores. She backed toward the door.

Only to find Astrid blocking her path. While the daeyari seemed to have forgotten about the lowly mortals in their midst, Verne’s Arbiter paced the foyer. Fi had known those ruby eyes for half her life, had seen a hundred emotions spark across them.

Never hatred. Not until now. Fi tried to keep her spine straight, tried to bristle back.

Except she knew, in her hollow core: she deserved every speck of Astrid’s ire.

“This is long overdue” Verne leveled at Antal. “My humans flee to you, children playing to the more spineless parent. But we know what mortals do when not dealt a strict hand. Petty things, too quick to forget what soft flesh they’re made of.”

Antal flexed his claws, glaring at her, at the Beast to her side. “Then guide your territory as you see fit. I won’t—”

“Did you see how easily they turned against you?” Verne snapped. “Even your loyal attendants, uncaring for how kind you’d been, crawling to my hand for a meager promise of power. Their lives are short. They only value immediate gains. And you’ve proven unfit to keep yours in line.”

Even Fi reeled at that one. She’d never had kind thoughts about the Lord Daeyari of Antal Territory. And she sure as shit shuddered at the thought of Verne seizing control.

But for the life of her, she didn’t understand why he wasn’t backing down.

Maybe she couldn’t understand what a hunting field meant to a predator.

The Beast at Verne’s side traced a long black tongue over its teeth. She pressed a hand to its hide to hold it steady.

“I’ll only ask once more, Antal. Abdicate.”

“Never,” he spat. “I won’t let you take—”

Fi had an abomination to watch. She’d taken her eyes off Astrid.

Energy crackled as Astrid closed in. Her vavriter magic manifested as mauve light at her fingertips, Shaped along a metal cord with barbed ends.

When she hurled it at Antal, the cord wrapped around his waist and locked in place.

An immortal, bound. Foolhardy in most circumstances.

Antal bared his teeth, but when he dug his claws beneath the binding, energy jolted up his arms, making him recoil.

When Verne lifted her hand, her Beast lunged. Antal should have teleported away.

He didn’t.

He snarled at another surge of energy from the cord, down his legs, rooting him to the floor.

The Beast snapped for his skull. Antal dodged, hitting the ground in a flail of limbs and tail.

He sank his claws beneath the bindings again, jaw clenched against the singe of energy as he fought to free himself.

Fi was dumbfounded.

That was it? This fearsome Lord Daeyari she’d avoided for years, who’d promised to protect her from Verne… and he was already on the floor?

Fuck. Maybe Fi should help. She didn’t want to help. He was a daeyari, he shouldn’t need a human to—

A pulse of energy struck her back.

Fi hit the floor gasping, a hot prickle of energy thorning her skin as she contemplated cold tile beneath her fingers, a crack in one corner.

Astrid stood over her. The world narrowed until only the two of them existed.

“Astrid?” Fi spoke the name breathless. Pleading.

Fi didn’t understand. She couldn’t make sense of Astrid staring down at her with such spite.

Where was the woman who’d woven camelias into Fi’s hair while the aurora danced overhead?

Those lips that had lit her skin on fire?

Those nimble hands that made Fi sing as they’d laid together with nothing between them?

But those moments no longer defined her and Astrid. For the past ten years, only one had.

“What’s wrong, Fi?” Astrid said. “Trying to run away again?” The memory surfaced like a haul of rotten flotsam, drowning Fi with the numbing taste of twilight sorel. The clutch of hands on her arms. A frigid forest shrine.

“ I changed my mind! ” she’d shouted then.

“I was afraid!” Fi shouted now.

“ You were afraid? How did you think I felt?”

With a cry of rage, Astrid raised a cross-guarded hilt.

She cracked a glass capsule into the base; not her mauve energy, but daeyari scarlet.

A gift from her mistress. One of the boons of being an Arbiter.

As the Shaped broadsword swung down, Fi scraped energy from her forearm to form a silver shield.

Enough to save herself from losing an arm. Not enough to last. Her meager mortal energy cracked like glass against the daeyari-honed sword, sizzling Fi’s fingertips.

“Why would you side with Verne?” Fi shouted.

“You never gave me a choice!”

Astrid’s sword crackled scarlet, slicing Fi’s shoulder. Fi hissed through the sting of burnt flesh, Shaping energy along her arm as armor, but Astrid’s next swing feinted low. She’d always outshot Fi with a crossbow. Her blade skills had improved to match.

One deflection against that daeyari energy sword, and Fi’s armor fizzled like a puddle on the Summer Plane. She had no backup energy capsules, only cold muscles of dwindling reserves, not half the rage of Astrid’s glower.

Her Astrid, with Fi’s blood flecking her hands.

And Void, didn’t Fi deserve this?

A roar shook the room.

Antal skidded across the tile, sheaths of crimson magic coating claw tips to fiercer points. The cord still bound his waist. He snarled as a swipe from the Beast raked his chest, spattering Void-black blood across the floor.

A whip of bright scarlet energy caught Antal by the ankle.

“Oyzen!” he shouted as he hit the ground, claws raking stone.

Verne coiled the whip around her arm, her placid facade slipping into a sadistic grin. Fi had thought Antal looked elegant with his Shaping, but Verne’s currents were immaculate, energy singing at her claws. She’d thought the immortals would be better matched, but…

Antal lunged for Verne’s belly. After trading red-laced blows like a pair of spitting cats, Verne lashed another whip around his arm, yanking him off balance. Her Beast sprang, pinning Antal to the ground.

Oh no, he was bad at this.

Fi was bad at this, unarmed and unable to look at Astrid without shattering.

They needed to run. Some things never changed.

At Astrid’s next swing, Fi dove and snatched a glowing scarlet energy capsule from her belt.

This is your fault , screamed in Fi’s head as Astrid brought her hilt down, cracking Fi’s elbow with numbing force.

Still a coward , as Fi retreated with her prize. Even through glass, the daeyari magic sank into her palm like a heartbeat from the Void. Pulsing. Foreign. A mere taste threatened to sear her. She didn’t dare tap in without knowing how to wield it properly.

Instead, she hurled it at the Beast.

The glass capsule shattered on impact, erupting in a burst of energy. The Beast yowled as shards of red seared its hide, turning its sleek gait into a retreat of writhing paws. Fi had hoped to see more damage, yet the impossible creature seemed more startled than anything.

Good enough as a distraction. Antal shot a startled look between her and the Beast she’d diverted.

Then he dug at his bindings. Teeth gritted, he sawed with energy-sharpened claws, sparks of ozone singeing the air. Until, at last, the cord snapped.

That bastard was her best way out of here. And she very much wanted to be out of here. Fi ran like she always did, ran like she had from Verne’s shrine ten years ago.

She tackled Antal, arms locked around his waist.

“What are you doing?” he snarled.

“Stop gawking and get us out of here!”

Across the room, the Beast shook sparks of energy from its flesh. Astrid shifted her grip on her sword, ready to charge, then stiffened, when Verne raised a hand to stop her.

The daeyari coiled her whip around slender fingers. Still calm. Still in control.

“Leave, Antal,” Verne said. “And don’t come back.”

But the last sight etched onto Fi’s heart was Astrid, her knuckles white around a sword hilt. Astrid, her ruby gaze trying to scorch Fi alive.

Astrid, standing at Verne’s side—where Fi was supposed to have been.

And Fi, still a coward, left her again. This time in a lurch of black.