The one thing that became clear was that none of them were going to be able to stop the death of the king.
“Blood of death,” the creature hissed again, and Razik could swear its mouth tipped into a smile.
A swirl of smoke and ashes appeared in the midst of everything, and before Razik could comprehend what he was seeing, two arrows were flying through the air. Whoever had shot them was gone in the next blink. Cethin’s back was to the newcomer, but he somehow knew to move, lurching to the side the moment before an arrow would have embedded in his back. His hand snapped up, catching the second arrow, while the first one struck the being.
And stuck.
The shaft protruded from the being’s chest. He released Cethin, stumbling back. Its perfect features were twisted into rage as his eyes flared brightly.
“Your kind is not supposed to be here,” he hissed, yanking the arrow free. It drifted away, becoming the same wispy light that he was. Except for the arrowhead. That fell to the ground, and the being scrambled away from it.
It tipped its head back, releasing a final wail of rage as white wisps poured out of its mouth before the entire being faded into the darkness, leaving black ashes and what appeared to be faint embers behind.
Cethin still held the other arrow, spinning and searching for the one who’d nearly injured him but also saved him.
There was another swirl of smoke, and a female stood among the destruction. Her bow still held in one hand, she stooped and swiped up the arrowhead. Razik had seconds to take her in. Hair as black as night. She was on the shorter side, and her black dress had deep slits up both sides that reached to her hips and revealed the brown skin of her thighs.
Another swirl of smoke and ashes, and she was gone.
Razik stalked forward. Or he tried to. It was probably more akin to a limp, but he didn’t want to think about that. The others followed, Cethin and Tybalt stopping on either side of him, all of them staring at the same thing.
A single pair of ashy footprints.
The female had been barefoot.
“An Ash Rider?” Cethin asked, twirling the other arrow between his fingers.
Razik didn’t have it in him to answer. Or to care, for that matter.
“Jarek?” he rasped out.
He heard the Cadre member move before he felt him behind him. “What do you need, Razik?”
“Take me to Wren. And someone grab Valric’s body.”
A hand landed on his shoulder. His duty was done. Cethin was out of harm’s way, and one of the others would see that he made it back to the castle. He thanked the Fates when he felt the familiar tug at his navel before he was pulled through a rip in the air. Jarek landed them outside his quarters, and Razik pushed the door to his rooms open.
Then he was thanking whatever god was responsible for Wren being there and not in a hundred other places she could have been.
Her navy blue eyes went wide, and she lurched to her feet. Tea spilled all over the floor as she rushed to him.
“By the gods, Razik. What happened?” she cried.
Razik didn’t answer. He grabbed her arm and forced himself to pull a dagger from where it was sheathed at his hip, rather than simply sink his canine teeth into her flesh. When his reserves were completely empty, knowing he could simply take her blood and have instant relief was so godsdamn tempting…
“I’ve got it,” Wren said gently, taking the dagger from his hand. Her movements were slow, as if trying not to startle or provoke him.
He hadn’t realized he’d stilled. The struggle must have been evident in his features. Wren had been his Source for years now. They knew one another’s tells.
She slid the blade across the back of her right hand, directly over the black Source Mark. Then she turned his hand over, gliding the blade through the flesh of his palm. The scent of her blood hit him a second later, and he lost any control. He grabbed her hand while shoving her back and back and back until she was against the wall. His next inhale was stuttered as he reached for her power, yanking and taking. He heard her gasp, but he couldn’t register it. All he could comprehend was that she could give him back his power, his dragon, all that he was, and he was going to take it.
“You’ll be okay, Razik,” she murmured, the words sounding pained as he pulled more and more magic from her.
Of course he’d be okay. He was always okay. He’d learned long ago how to beokay.
Several minutes passed before the power-depletion craze started to lift. It was then he realized he was holding Wren up where she’d sagged against him.
“Godsdammit,” he muttered, scooping her into his arms.
