Damien reared, his hooves crashing down with earth-shattering force, sending tremors rippling through the ground. The men faltered, knees buckling under the sheer force threatening to tear them off their feet.
His wrath was merciless. Everything the shadows touched crumbled into dust, into dark, into nothing. Screams that had filled the air were abruptly silenced.
Behind him, a dapple-grey unicorn emerged; his coat mottled like storm clouds, his mane and tail ghost-pale against the darkness. Moving without sound, he glided above the earth, his hooves barely brushing the ground.
The unicorn—Gregory, Luna assumed—lowered his head, angling his horn towards the soldiers and charged. Swords clanged uselessly against his hide, bending on impact. Shields splintered like brittle wood under the force of his assault.
His horn pierced through the men, and with a violent wrench, he flung their bodies aside like broken dolls.
Luna stared, stunned. For a moment, she worried ghost and shadow alike might vanish—like a mirage bornof fear and exhaustion.
But they didn’t. Together, they fought with the precision of seasoned warriors, their movements fluid, seamless. Unicorns might resemble horses, at least at first glance, but the magic in their veins made them practically undefeatable.
Yet the battle was far from over.
More men surged from the tents, pouring forward hundreds strong.
“Steady men! Take aim—fire!” someone shouted over the chaos.
A cloud of white powder exploded through the air, billowing across the camp. Damien lunged right, narrowly evading the blast—but Gregory wasn’t so quick.
Flecks of powder struck his back. He bellowed, staggering forward, his great head thrashing, horn slicing the air.
Another shot fired; this time, it struck true.
Unicornbane dust slammed into Gregory’s flank, driving him to his knees. Damien was there in an instant, his body shielding Gregory as his shadow magic ripped across the field and pulverized the men one by one.
But for every man who fell, three more took his place. And with them, more powder.
They charged again.
Damien met them head-on, unicornbane dust clinging to his coat. He powered through it, slashing men down with his horn while his shadows moved like a river of death, sweeping through the ranks, tearing men apart.
White powder choked the air, coating him as if it were ash. His black hide turned pale, almost white.
Still, he fought—stabbing, ramming, crushing—until his steps grew heavier, his movements sluggish. For the first time, he faltered. His shadows flickered, thinning for a breath, as if the magic itself was straining to hold on.
His gaze snapped to Luna’s. And for a split second, there was fear.
“Luna! Look out!” he shouted.
Hands clamped around her throat. She gasped, choking, thrashing against the pole.
From behind, William’s voice brushed her ear, low and mocking. “All this trouble for the likes of you.Pathetic.”
His grip tightened. Her breaths shortened into hollow, frightened gasps. With her hands still bound behind her, her body flailed uselessly, jerking as her lungs shrieked for air.
But her mind . . . her mind was already gone.
Tyrina had taken too much.
There was nothing left.
Damien roared, the sound of pure, feral rage. Shadows surged towards her, but the unicornbane dust stopped them, smothering the magic midair.
He ripped through the humans, their bodies vanishing into nothingness as he fought to reach her . . . but there were too many men. Too much powder.
He’s not going to reach me. The thought landed with a cold, numbing clarity.
