Lowering its head, the enormous borgon thundered toward us, malice dripping from its obsidian-black fangs.
I leaped off my husband and placed myself between him and the beast.
With my blades lifted, I prepared myself to defend him.
38
Reyla
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Merrick-Lorant lurching to his feet, using his sword more as a cane than a weapon. As the towering borgon thundered our way, he staggered over to stand beside me.
His blade scraped the cobblestones as he dragged it along with him, but his eyes were locked on the borgon barreling our way. Blood streaked what was left of his tunic, his chest, his own mixed with all the beasts he'd killed.
“Get back.” My blades tight in my hands, I thrust myself in front of him. I’d face this creature no matter the cost. My husband had suffered enough, and he’d lived despite a horrifying wound.
Howhad he lived? I couldn’t process what had happened. No time. No way to figure it out. But I would not let anything take himfrom me now. If that meant being his shield, his savior, and his weapon, that was who I’d be.
Snarling, the borgon roared closer. Its sheer size made the ground quake, the cobblestones cracking under the hammering weight of its steps. Its jagged jawline dripped. Every slick scale shimmered like polished onyx. Heat rolled off its body in thick waves.
If I died here, it wouldn’t be in vain. My husband would live. He had to.
“Stop.” His voice tore through the air, a blend of the man who loved me in daylight and the one who consumed my night, settled into something new.
And the borgon…
Its claws scraped against stone as it came to a standstill only a few paces away. It loomed over us like a jagged, two-story building about to collapse and crush us. Smoke billowed from its flared nostrils, and its muscles bunched as if it wanted to leap but suddenly couldn’t. The scent of charred flesh and steel hung in the air. As the creature huffed, its smoke-tinged breaths channeled across the front of my bloody leathers.
Snarling into its face, I didn’t waver, my blades primed.
But for some reason, I could not strike out.
The creature inhaled, its cavernous chest expanding. It lowered its massive head, the thick ridges of its skull catching the light. Its eyes gleamed like molten amber, focused onhim. One pupil dilated, the other narrowing, as if it was trying to see something in this man that wasn’t visible to me.
The menace radiating from the borgon shifted like the tide rolling back, leaving the shore cracked and steaming. Its massive right front claw scraped against the cobblestones as it sank down.
Bowing.
No, that could not be right.
Yet its massive head dipped farther, brushing against the ground, its eyes narrowing to study my husband before slanting its gaze at me. This wasn’t submission, but it also didn’t strike us. The silence around it felt louder than its earlier snarls.
My husband's expression mirrored my confusion. He stood straighter now, no longer leaning on his sword.
The borgon eased up onto its haunches and backed away one step. Another. Slowly dragging its bulk across the debris-strewn cobblestone. Its gaze didn’t leave us, though. Even as it slunk farther away, its towering frame rippled with coiled tension. Heat pulsed against me as it exhaled.
It extended its neck and tipped its head back, roaring, a deafening cry that vibrated through the city.
I braced myself, expecting it to pivot and charge at us again.
After one last look at my husband, then me, the borgon lumbered around to face the other direction, its claws scraping the ground. It sent another ear-piercing roar toward the sky and launched itself into a sprint, all speed and force as it surged toward the city’s upper wall. The rest of the borgons thundered after it, their monstrous bodies a tide retreating from shore.
As they clambered over the city walls and surged into the forest beyond, a hushed, almost waiting quiet fell.
I lowered my blades, and they clanged when the tips hit the stone. Taking good care of them at all times had nearly been beaten into me, but I could barely hold onto them with my trembling grip.
Cheers erupted around us as the villagers realized they were safe—for now.
“Praise King Lorick,” someone cried, his voice echoed by others. “Long live King Lorick. Long live Queen Reyla!”
