Her figure was tall, slender, poised, a predator who had long since grown accustomed to her surroundings. Her fine, straight black hair flowed around her, catching in the breeze, brushing at her waist. But it was her eyes, wholly black, cold and unblinking—that truly held my attention. There was a wild, dangerous spark in them, a calm awareness that hinted at a readiness to strike if needed. The fire and smoke swirling in the air parted for her as she moved.
Lincatheron turned. Spotted her. And his body went rigid.
He didn’t even look at me as he snarled just one word. “Run.”
His glaive gleamed as he shifted into a stance I had never seen him take before, his body braced, tense.
“Isara.Now.Run.”
My grip tightened on my daggers. My breath came harsh but steady. “No.”
Lincatheron swore low and rough, but there was no time for more.
The woman’s smirk widened as she slowed. “How touching,” she mused, her voice rich and dangerous. “She doesn’t listen to you.”
“Wildfire!”Kaelen’s roar almost drowned out all other thought, fury and terror bleeding through our bond.“Get away from her. Now.”
Lincatheron lunged. His glaive swung with toward her, the air around it crackling with power. But the woman didn’t flinch. She moved with a fluid grace, the world slowing around her.
She met his strike with a curved, elegant sabre. It appeared from nowhere, the gleaming blade catching the dim light of the battlefield.
Their weapons met with a clash, steel against steel, a sound that echoed through the air. The force of the impact rippled outward. Magic writhed in the air around them, seething power that hummed.
“Still so eager to kill me, Lincatheron?” Her lips curled, her blade twirling effortlessly in her fingers. “How precious.”
Lincatheron growled as he swung again. She let him come to her, let him press forward. And then, with blinding speed, she lashed out.
I didn’t catch the movement before blood splattered across the mud. Lincatheron stumbled back, a deep gash splitting across his cheek. His hand flew to his face, fingers coming away red.
The warrior’s laughter rang out across the battlefield, a chilling sound that brushed against me like a breath I didn’t want to feel. I gripped my daggers tighter, focus darting between Lincatheron and his terrifying opponent.
Above us, I could sense Kaelen’s desperate flight pattern, trying to break through the wall of shadow dragons that seemed determined to keep him from reaching me. The frustration and panic radiating through our bond made my chest tight.
“Is that all you’ve got, Lincatheron?” the woman purred, dripping with mock disappointment. “I expected more from the great commander of the Luceren.”
Lincatheron spat blood onto the mud-slicked ground, his eyes blazing with a fury I’d never seen before. “Why don’t you crawl back to your court, Bloodwitch,” he snarled, the name laced with venom. “Tell me, does Ashterion know you’re out here without your leash?”
Bloodwitch. The name fit her perfectly. Crimson clouds pulsed and writhed around her, tendrils of it reaching out hungrily towards anything that dared get too close.
“I’m not here to give you another scar, Lincatheron.” She twirled her sabre lazily, as if this were a game. “I’m here to deliver a message.”
I watched in horror as her magic launched towards Lincatheron, a seething mass of crimson that devoured the air around it. Time slowed to a crawl as the attack hurtled towards him, and I found myself unable to breathe.
But Lincatheron was ready.
With a fluid motion he raised a hand.
A roar rippled through the air as the ocean itself rose to meet her. A surge of water erupted from him, cascading outward in a violent, crashing wave, its depths swirling with shimmering oceanic power. The liquid twisted into a barrier, translucent but unbreakable, a living current, gleaming with the silver-blue of a sunlit tide.
The woman’s magic struck the wall of water with a thunderous crack, the impact shaking the earth beneath our feet.
For a moment, the battlefield was drowned in mist and steam, the two forces clashing, snarling against one another—dark hunger against unrelenting tide.
Lincatheron stood firm, unmoved, his eyes glinting like deep, storm-tossed waters as his power pushed back. But while Lincatheron’s power surged against hers, locking them in a moment of violent equilibrium?—
Bloodwitch struck. Her sabre arced, deadly and precise.
Lincatheron reacted a second too late.
