He must’ve risen because the swift kick that he landed into my abdomen made me wheeze and hack. Before I could drag in another breath, he landed another. And another.
I caught a glimpse of him. His eyes so dark they were black. The extent of his rage was terrifying, the monster beneath capable of anything. I understood now what it was that Gethrin Osa had seen that day on the landing field. What Brune had seen.
He will kill me,I knew.And he will like it.
Alaryk’s magic was sinking in my chest. I grasped at it, a lifeline, tucking it inside me like it was something I was trying to protect. I curled into a ball as Ryak continued to kick me with all his strength. I heard bones cracking, sharp pain that made me want to stop breathing.
He turned me over with his boot. I tried to lift my arms but couldn’t. I tried to fight back, but I was so tired, my body battered.
There was blood running into his eye from his temple.
At least I drew his blood before he killed me. That brought a sense of satisfaction.
And maybe he saw that realization in my eyes when he stared down at me. Because I saw that rage deepen.
When his fist connected with my face, it was sharp and oddly dull-sounding. Athumpof flesh and bone. My heart was racing in my ears, and Alaryk’s magic was bundled inside me.
And when Ryak became even more violent, I retreatedinward. I pressed into Alaryk, letting the warm current soothe me as I gritted my teeth and felt some of them loosen from the brute force of Ryak’s punches.
“Vokkingbitch,” Ryak hissed. “Don’t you dare look at me like that. Red-blood Market District filth!”
Hold on for me,came Alaryk’s voice, sharp and clear in my mind. And instead of being frightened, I reached for him like I was wrapping my arms around his energy, trying to guide him to me.I’m here,mariss.
I closed my eyes because it was too difficult to keep them open.
Stay with me, Amaia,came Alaryk’s command, urgent.
Another hit came. It sounded like a wet squelch. I couldn’t feel anything anymore. I wondered if that was because of Alaryk’s magic or because my body was shielding it. All I knew was that I was tired. So very tired. I wanted to sleep.
That was when I felt something I’d never felt before with Alaryk. A rushing of power, hurtling and forming into the sharpened end of a blade, like it was about to strike. The length of his strength, the sheer magnitude of it, was surprising.
Order him to stop,Alaryk told me.Use me, Amaia.
I couldn’t speak. Could only think the command, envisioning the spear of magic cutting straight through Ryak.
The sounds stopped. When I managed to open one of my swollen eyes, I saw Ryak had stopped, as though he were bound, his eyes bulging with confusion, frustration.
I could feel the brief flash of Alaryk’s relief. Through my dim vision, I saw Samryn circle back around, having pinpointed where I was. Nowhere to land here…and I swore I saw a figure leap off his back, the white flash of his hair illuminated by a lightning strike in the sky, the rolling roar of thunder like an Elthika’s warning.
I focused on my breath as Ryak hovered over me, trying to break past the bonds of Alaryk’s magic.
I could feel his presence, sprinting through the forest, wherever he’d landed. He’d jumped off Samryn to reach me.
I’m sorry,I thought, tears mixing with my blood.I’m so sorry, Alaryk.
Stay with me,mariss,was his only response.
He entered the clearing. I saw the glowing blue of his eyes first, his nostrils flaring when he saw me, a brief flit of shock, which steadily turned into his own form of rage, carefully coiled and ready to strike.
I wondered what he saw. I wondered what I looked like.
Alaryk, the eggs,I thought, thinking maybe I’d spoken out loud, but my tongue wasn’t working.They have them. Dresnar?—
Alaryk unsheathed a long dagger from his riding vest.
A weight was lifted from my body, Alaryk plucking Ryak off like he was nothing.
All I heard was the whistle of a blade, followed by the shocked gurgle dripping from Ryak’s throat. I saw his body slump forward, Alaryk’s eyes on mine over his shoulder, his dagger deep in the Dakkari guardsman’s belly. His arm moved. Twisting. Making it hurt.
