There was a distant shout, a flare of blue and green flame, and the surge of fallen souls slowed, but Rune ignored it.
Everything he needed was in his grasp.
Calla appeared beside him. “The Seraphs are advancing, sire. Their weapons are burning through our ranks. We need to fall back. Now!”
At the warning, Rune spared a glance over his shoulder.
Kahssiel and that damn sorceress of his had managed to disintegrate half of his army. The tide was turning. But Rune glanced at the Shadow Keep and continued the siphon.
He was doing this all for her.
“We hold,” Rune growled.
“Sire—”
“I will not stop now. Not when I am this close?—”
Jorik lifted his head. His eyes were white and glowing with a familiar rage. A rupture of blue light burst out, disintegrating Rune’s shadows pinning him. Jorik took hold of Rune’s arms in an ice-cold grip and removed them with an unholy strength as he sat up.
And a voice echoed from his lips that was not his own.“You were never meant to rule the dead, brother.”
Rune’s breath stalled in his lungs. “No. The gods cannot interfere in the matters of mortals, Jökull. This realm is mine!”
“My power is not.”
Sana and Jalen reappeared behind him, each holding glowing chains. Before Rune could react, they struck. Manacles clamped over his wrist. He bit back a cry at the burn of metal against his skin.
Neshek Hael.
Blessed iron.
The chains were etched with golden glyphs, shining with the light of the Heavens.
Jorik snarled, looking at him with his father’s eyes.“At last you crumble beneath your pride.”
Rune roared in fury and disbelief. His power was thinning like sand slipping through clenched fists. His markings dimmed, shadows diminishing.
“No,NO?—!”
Not again. He could not lose to him again.
The black clouds above thinned and the darkness around the battlefield roiled, clawing at the air as if desperate to stay. But the sunlight broke through.
Rune helplessly watched his demons disintegrate to ash wherever it touched, and the fleeing fell beneath a wave of seraph fire. His Harbingers flew to his aid but disintegrated to smoke in the light before they could reach him.
A sharp, searing agony tore through his chest.
Not like this.
A violent rumble shook the earth.
Jorik rose to his feet, glancing past him. “And so at last, it falls.”
Rune whipped around. A fissure split down the center of the Shadow Keep, cracking so loud his ears rang.
The black structure groaned and folded, crumbling down on itself. A scream ripped from Rune’s throat as he broke away from Jorik. The chains followed as he ran, ignoring the fire in his wrists, the light burning his skin.
“Alora!”
