“Southwest passage it is.” Lincatheron’s wings folded tight against his back as he moved toward where Varyth indicated.“Fenric, take point. Cindrissian, rear guard. We move fast and quiet. If we encounter resistance?—”
“We go through them,” Fenric finished, his tone making it very clear he was still furious and looking for something to kill.
“Try not to collapse any more of the mountain on us,” Cindrissian added dryly.
“No promises.”
We made it three steps before the passage ahead filled with bodies.
26
Nyxarian soldiers poured into the corridor like floodwater, their armour gleaming in the dim light, weapons already drawn. Too many. Far too many for our current state. Varyth could barely stand, Lincatheron was bleeding from where debris had caught him, and we were all running on fumes and fury.
A snarl ripped from Fenric’s throat, something primal and possessive that made the hair on my arms stand up. Obsidian exploded across his hands, crawling up his forearms like living armour.
Beside me, Varyth made a sound I’d never heard from him before. Low and vicious andwrong, like something breaking inside his chest. His hand shot out, fingers closing around my wrist with bruising force as he yanked me behind him.
“Stay back.” The words came out guttural. Mist erupted around us in a wave of silver fury, coiling thick and defensive. “Isara,stay back.”
“I can fight.”
“Not this time.”
Fenric was moving too, his body shifting to physically block Cindrissian and Lincatheron even as they tried to push forward. “Get behind me. Both of you.Now.”
“Fenric, what the hell?” Lincatheron started.
“I said get the fuck behind me.”
The desperation in his voice made my blood run cold. Whatever was coming, whatever had provoked this reaction from both of them?—
The soldiers parted.
A male stepped into view.
The snarl that tore from Varyth was feral.
“Don’t,” Fenric bit out, though I couldn’t tell if he was talking to the newcomer or to Lincatheron and Cindrissian behind him. “Don’t fucking move.”
I was already shifting, already preparing to step out from behind Varyth’s protective stance because I’d be damned if I let him use himself as a shield twice in one day.
But then I actually looked at the male who’d just walked into our tunnel.
Iknewhim.
Not personally. Not from this life.
But I’d seen him before.
In Darian’s memory.
Dark hair, caramel skin. Brutal, elegant features that could have been carved from violence itself.
His face was adorned with several piercings that gleamed in the soft light. A small gold ring hung from one ear, while delicate chains draped from the other, their intricate designs shimmering as they caught the faintest movement. The centre of his forehead held a single glittering black gem, dark as obsidian, yet every so often it flashed—as though lightning was trapped beneath the surface.
Power rolled off him in waves that made the air itself crackle and pop. Lightning danced across his shoulders, his arms, threading through dark hair that seemed to move with its own current.
The air around him smelled like ozone and violence.
