“To help!”
The sound of Kian's curse reaches my ears, and in a matter of seconds, he is right beside me. “Are you sure?”
I glare at him in response, and he nods, pride filling his gaze.
I am no longer a helpless human.
I never was.
I am a powerful druid princess.
I won't hide behind walls.
I won’t use others as a shield.
I embrace my true identity.
The air crackles with magic, the energy pulsing through my veins, ready to be unleashed.
The scent of earth and magic fill my nostrils, and Ibrace myself.
In an instant, Tristan materializes on my other side, giving me a resolute nod. “Let's do this, princess.”
Chapter fifty-three
Everly
We round the next street corner into hell.
Soldiers form a formidable line, their weapons at the ready, as the deadlings creep out from the depths of the forest.
With a growl, Tristan tosses me his sword. I catch it with ease, my reflexes sharper since my change. I spin the blade in a circle, testing the weight.
Giving Tristan a subtle nod, I seamlessly position myself among the soldiers. A murmur of confusion ripples through them, their voices blending together in a wave of uncertainty, but it quickly subsides as I raise my hand. Now is not the time to question my presence. They need to focus, or we will be overrun in seconds.
Stretching my free arm out, I extend my palm toward the ground, the cool breeze brushing against my skin. With unwavering concentration, I summon my magic, feeling a suddensurge of power flow through me, causing the earth to tremble beneath my feet. My breaths are sawing in and out as I try to concentrate. There's a deafening roar as a shockwave echoes through the air, rattling my eardrums. I watch as the earth rolls and buckles, a wave of energy radiating outward toward the approaching deadlings. The ground rises and falls under them forcefully, propelling them backward, their bodies soaring through the sky.
It only provides a brief respite, but I'm hopeful that it will allow more women and children to make it to the protection of the castle walls.
I can almost taste the tension in the air as the soldiers brace themselves for the impending onslaught. The deadlings, with their sullen flesh and milky white eyes, advance relentlessly, driven by their need to kill. In the dimness of the tree's shadows, I swear I catch a glimpse of the black beast's piercing crimson eyes.
With Tristan’s sword in hand, I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what lies ahead. The first wave of deadlings lunge toward us, and I swing the sword with all my might, the blade slicing through the air, cleaving through their grotesque bodies. A mixture of fear, adrenaline, and an unwavering desire to survive fuels each and every strike.
Grinding my teeth together, I deftly sidestep, kick, and dodge the relentless creatures that are intent on ripping me to shreds. With each step, the metallic scent of blood fills the air, staining my face and clothes. It fills me with a sense of desperation, urging me to keep going despite the overwhelming odds stacked against me.
I catch glimpses of Kian and Tristan, their faces lined with determination as they fight alongside me, their own weapons carving a path through the encroaching hordes. We move in sync, relying on our training and instinct, as we desperately try to push back the onslaught.
Sweat trickles down my forehead, mingling with the dirt and grime already covering my face. The cut on my head has sealed, leaving behind a crusted layer of blood.
“Everly!” Raiden’s voice climbs above the chaos.
Spinning on my heel, I see him running toward me. Hope rises in my chest. If Raiden is here, Maxon must be close. I can barely feel him through the bond with all the adrenaline pumping through my veins.
My heart jumps to my throat, and I try to scream out as a deadling comes out of nowhere, jumping on his back. The creature grips his wings and tries tearing them from his back, but Raiden is quick, dislodging it in one swift movement, sending it hurling into the wall of a nearby building. Raiden looks furious, his whole being vibrating in anger, black blood smearing his face and chest.
Another approaches him, and I watch with wide eyes as he swiftly grabs it by the throat, crushing its windpipe and tossing it aside like a rag doll. Our eyes meet from a distance, and I immediately start making my way over to him, desperately needing to find Maxon. But a sinking feeling washes over me when Raiden’s face turns pale, and he shouts something at me. I spin around and come face to face with . . .
What the hell am I looking at right now?
