Just then, two dozen soldiers appeared, the same way they had at Ridine. These men, however, weren’t waiting under their shields. Instead, they surged forward at once.
“Now!” Ailan shouted.
Uziel opened his maw and shot a volley of flame at the men. Those who acted fast enough raised their shields, but at least half screamed as they fell to the blaze.
Another group of soldiers appeared. Then another. Luckily, Uziel’s flame wasn’t their sole defense. The flash of light had triggered motion from the woods. Now human and Elvyn soldiers ran forth to meet the enemy forces, even as they grew in number. Uziel roared and snapped but could no longer risk his blasts of fire, lest he harm their allies. The allied troops kept the space around Ailan, Uziel, and Cora clear, funneling the enemy soldiers away. Yet Darius made no attempt to drop his fighters near them. He wanted to face Ailan alone.
The sound of steel against steel drowned out the waves, rose above the wind. Would Darius ever stop bringing his soldiers? Had Cora been wrong?—
Darius appeared before them, far too close for comfort. Uziel growled, but he couldn’t blast Darius without risking harm to Ailan and Cora. He curved his body around them, but Darius only worldwalked to the side, keeping Ailan in view.
“Go,” Ailan muttered to Cora as Uziel tried to hide them again.
Cora blew out a shaky breath. As much as she wanted to ensure her allies weren’t outnumbered, that they truly could defeat their enemies, she’d already done her part here. She’d lured Darius, and now he’d fight Ailan.
Meanwhile, Cora had another mission to complete.
Ailan stepped forward, leaving the safety of Uziel’s proximity.
With a grin, Darius disappeared and reappeared directly behind her.
Cora’s heart leaped into her throat?—
Ailan parried his sword just in time, moving as swift and as smooth as the night breeze.
Never had Ailan looked so unlike the elderly Nalia Cora had known.
She could trust this warrior to hold her own.
Cora had a job to do. People to protect. And an entire world to seal away.
With a deep breath, she closed her eyes and left the fray behind.
The hair roseon the back of Larylis’ neck as sounds of battle clashed farther down the coast. The clang of steel was too loud, too near the most precious location of all. The hidden tear just north of his post. Mere minutes ago, he’d witnessed an enormous black dragon—the same that had attacked Ridine—appear out of nowhere at the edge of the cliff with a rider on his back.
The blond-haired Elvyn stationed at Larylis’ side had tensed at the pair’s appearance, his fingers curling around the hilt of his sword. Not in fear of the dragon or its rider but yearning. Frustration. Impatience.
Fanon wanted to defend that rider. Ailan. The Elvyn who was his consort.
Though Larylis and Fanon could communicate, courtesy of the charm hanging from one of his gauntleted wrists, the Elvyn had said very little to Larylis since they’d taken their positions. Yet even without words, Larylis understood him, could read the terror etched on his face as he watched Ailan in the distance. She and the gray-haired man had been locked in combat for several minutes now, the latter’s moves impossibly fast. Fanon’s tense posture mirrored Larylis’ own. They both wished they could be elsewhere—Fanon defending Ailan, Larylis defending Mareleau—yet both had taken up the duty to protect the location of the tear and intercept anyone who got too close.
Already the battle was creeping this way.
Soon they would need to act. Fight. Protect.
Larylis could hardly believe this was happening. No textbook had ever described anything close to this. There were no kings he could emulate, no warriors he could try to embody. Never had he read about a bastard who’d become king, only to relinquish his crown to save two worlds and be with the people he loved. Never had humans fought alongside Elvyn warriors to protect fae magic.
The nearest fighters continued to clash, though the enemy troops soon outnumbered the allies. Larylis’ squad could no longer remain in waiting, nor could Fanon’s.
“We join,” Fanon said, his words translated through the charm.
Larylis tightened his jaw and forgot every great king he’d ever admired. Every line of text he’d ever used to construct an ideal version of himself—a standard he could never reach. Instead, he thought of Mareleau, Noah, and everything he held dear.
All he could be was himself.
That was enough.
Larylis Alante, battle on Khero’s western coast, Year 171 of the Dragon. Loved his family more than life. Destroyed their enemies until victory was his.
