Malik moved with a harsh velocity, latching onto Finnian’s arm and hauling a blade straight into his gut. Liquid pulsed up Finnian’s throat and clogged in his mouth. Jolts of agony lanced up his torso.
He smiled through blood-stained teeth and wrenched Malik by the forearm.“Sangre hirviendo.”
Malik’s skin sizzled and bubbled against the inside of Finnian’s fingers. Between them, a sinuous trail of smoke curled in the air.
Malik’s face twisted from the pain, and he recoiled.
Finnian tightened his grip around Malik’s arm, ensuring both he and the dagger remained immobile. The lodged blade in his torso was a dull pain compared to the incessant years of Shivani’s torture and being feasted on by executioners.
Malik hoisted his free fist back, knuckles wrapped in brass and aimed for Finnian’s head.
Finnian caught him by the wrist, gripped tightly, and forced his arm up. The harshsnapof his elbow reverberated in Finnian’s palm.
With a furious look in his eyes, Malik ripped his hand from the knife's hilt as his convulsing forearm crunched back into place with an unsettlingpop.Flexing his fingers, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a thick, fanged blade.
The shadows steadily rose to their waists like black mist.
Finnian’s eyes clicked over to Mira. Marina no longer stood nearby.
Malik twirled the blade in his fingers before gripping it and firing it at Finnian’s chest.
Finnian lifted his knee and threw out his foot. With a forceful kick to Malik’s abdomen, he plummeted backwards. Finnian tore out the blade lodged into his stomach. A warm crimson fled down his pelvis.
The shadows surged up his spine and over his nape, consuming the room with a prickling, black chasm.
“Belyse.” The incantation lit his vision.
Nightrazers whirred and stepped out of the inky mass—phantasmal forms with swarthy faces and folds of needle-edged teeth. Their low growls rumbled throughout the room, a barrage surrounding him.
Finnian positioned his hand in front of his chest, extending his index and middle fingers under his chin. “You spent your whole life mocking Naia for hiding behind Wren when you are no different with your nightrazers.”
Malik’s blurred silhouette flashed in Finnian’s periphery.
He spun and held out both arms. With magic crackling in his palms, he readied himself to unleash a fiery torrent.
The end of a blade pierced through his hand, driving him back on his heels.
His back slammed into the wall, the breath knocking from his lungs. Another blade punctured through his other wrist. The impact strained his shoulder.
With a sudden jolt, he tried to pull himself away, but Malik swiftly slammed him against the wall.
Malik’s blood-curdling smirk shone wickedly through Finnian’s brightened vision. “Brings up old memories.” He cocked his head, driving another blade deep into his diaphragm. Finnian’s nostrils flared against the echoes of pain shooting up his chest and into his throat. “I suppose it’s my turn to get even now. After the bullshit you pulled back at your hall.”
A fire eviscerated the nausea seething in Finnian’s stomach. Fueled by pure spite, he summoned the energy to push against the blades that penetrated him. The slits in his flesh widened as he strained against the knives. Pain wept up and down his arms. He pressed his tongue against the backs of his teeth as the hilts carved through his meat.
With his arms free, he caught Malik by the hair and slammed his face into the crystal wall. Fissures cracked across the sheen surface. Ruby red filled their creases.
Malik grasped at the knife stuck in the wall and tore it free. Finnian bent backwards, the dagger’s end swiping inches from the tip of his nose. He staggered as Malik rotated and swung the blade again. The tip scraped over Finnian’s chin, the pain like a cat’s scratch.
Malik’s infuriating smirk was accentuated by the sight of his ripened sinew and cracked skull. A murderous thirst throbbed in Finnian's veins—to put Malik in his place once and for all.
Finnian snapped his arm out, palm pointed at Malik. “Thoir do chridhe.”
Malik halted mid-step and slapped a hand around his throat. A choke seized his breath. His eyes pulled back and went bloodshot. He gagged and hunched over. The blade in his hold clinked against the floor, lost in the pool of blackness.
Finnian curled his fingers like a claw, pulling at the control he had over Malik’s internal system.
Blood soaked down Malik’s torso. The pressure of bones splintering in his ribcage resonated; the sound of cartilage and muscle shredding followed. His heart bulged against the material of his shirt, like a magnet pulled to meet Finnian’s command.
