Yet there was still the head of the snake that needed to be dealt with before this could really be over.
Darion chanced a look toward the palace where Selene still held her post with Phaedra and Jordana. She pointed upward, a look of worry on her face. He tilted his head and saw sunlight pressing down on the curtain of darkness the Ancient had constructed with the crystals.
And now that he was looking, truly looking, he realized the unnatural night they had been fighting under was fading fast. It was burning off, soon to be full daylight overhead.
Holy hell.
Darion whistled to catch the attention of the warriors near him. Kade and Rio caught his signal, both of them glancing up at the threat of the sun.
The same ultraviolet light that would finish off the invading Rogues would also take out Darion and every Breed member who wasn’t a daywalker.
Why was the darkness lifting?
He glanced back up at Selene, but she was gone now. Jordana had disappeared too.
Out in the harbor, the disabled boat was nearly on its side. The Ancient was no longer standing at the bow with his box of crystals.
No, he was on the deck, poised for battle in front of Lucan with murder blazing in his eyes.
Then he pounced.
Fuck.Darion sped into motion, flashing past the skirmishes still taking place on the hill and the beach below. He took a running leap off the sand, soaring over the water and landing on the boat deck in a crouch.
The Ancient and Lucan were locked in a brutal hold, their boots slipping in the shocking amount of blood that soaked the deck. The Ancient had already lost a hand in the fight, but the disadvantage didn’t seem to be slowing him down.
Darion had his long blade in hand, but there was no way to get to the Ancient’s neck until he could get him away from Lucan.
Sheathing the weapon for now, Darion stalked forward and grabbed two fistfuls of the Ancient’s shirt. He yanked the huge male backward and threw him off. The Ancient’s boots skidded on the blood-soaked decking, but he didn’t go down.
He bled not only from the amputation of his hand, but from a catastrophic cut to his shoulder and chest. Lucan held a blade in his hand, slick with the Ancient’s blood. The wounds he’d delivered were severe, but not enough to take the bastard down for good.
Darion drew his weapon. “This ends here. You end here.”
Before he could strike, Lucan charged forward in a turbulent blur. He swung his own sword at the Ancient’s neck, but the otherworlder grabbed the blade in mid-strike and held on. Blood oozed from between his fingers, running down his wrist and arm.
Darion didn’t waste a second of the opportunity he’d just been given by his father.
He spun, cleaving his blade through the back of the Ancient’s thick neck in a clean blow. The head tumbled to the deck as the edge of Darion’s blade sparked against the broad side of his father’s sword.
They had done it together.
Darion stared into his father’s fiery amber gaze--the same gaze he had seen in the faces of the countless other Rogues he’d slain over the course of the past several hours.
He didn’t want to accept it.
He refused to accept it.
“Come on,” he said, nodding to Lucan. “Let’s get out of here.”
Lucan hesitated, his expression pained both emotionally and physically. He took a step--then staggered.
“Dad?” Darion threw down his weapon so he could catch his father before his big body hit the deck. “Ah, shit. You’re injured.”
His hand came away from Lucan’s back coated in blood.
“Darion.” Selene was on the deck with him now too, apparently having teleported the distance.
As the Ancient’s curtain of darkness dissolved away and sunlight began to blaze down over the boat and battlefield, she retrieved the three errant crystals and conjured a softer cloak to shield everyone from the searing rays.
