“When you’re inside—”
“Theo!” Esaias’s yelp was sharper than the blade he plunged into a soldier’s chest.
Theodoric tossed Amaris behind him and brought his arm up to shield them. His sword met the next blade. The muscles of his back tightened with his push forward, opening another wound. His blood mixed with the sweat and rain and trickled down, soaking the waistband of his pants. The soldier’s white teeth were a vibrant contrast to his deep-umber skin. He gritted against his strength. Theodoric brought his leg up and kicked the soldier in the chest, leaving a muddy boot print across his blood-smeared tunic. But the man only stumbled before swinging his sword again. Their feet were ever moving, circling their prey, neither yielding.
Theodoric didn’t tire. His breaths were even as he danced the duel. His eyes met Amaris’s. There wasn’t worry but a direct order to get inside.She shook her head as he finished the soldier with a single swipe of his sword to the neck.
A booming erupted from the bay, leading to the screeching of a cannonball overhead. Before Amaris could run, Theodoric was on top of her, shielding her body from the blast. It hit the wall and sent several chunks of stone raining down. He grunted as pieces of debris scattered around them and pelted his back. Her breath had escaped her when he’d pressed her into the grass, but his warmth against her further ceased her efforts to breathe. His hand tightened around her middle as another cannon fired. His heart thundered against her, and she knew if she could feel his, then he most certainly felt the skipping and tumbling of hers.
“Get inside,” he demanded. “Stay close to Adelaide.”
“She isn’t there.”
As he lifted his body from hers, breath filled Amaris’s lungs. Their gazes both turned to the beach. Adelaide was supposed to be getting the boat ready. A startling realization hit. She was either still fighting down there or dead.
“Go back to the manor,” he said, his eyes darkening.
Before she could protest, Theodoric spun, and his blade pierced the chest of another soldier, who collapsed to the ground. As he removed hissword, the silver shine was replaced with crimson blood.
Amaris couldn’t move. Paralyzed.Was it fear or shock?She couldn’t pull her eyes from Theodoric’s stance. He unsheathed his dagger, and his sword clashed with his next victim. His sleeve ripped and curled around his wrist. The muscles in his arm tensed with each swing of his sword. With another jab, he pierced his next attacker’s heart. She couldn’t leave. Esaias and Theodoric were both engaged in combat and maybe wouldn’t get to Adelaide in time. She could be injured.
Theodoric stayed close as Amaris crept up the path toward the gardens. She’d find a different route to the beach, staying far off to the side so as to not raise suspicion. When she no longer sensed his lingering footsteps, she dared a look back. He was fighting three soldiers, all armed and circling him. One had two cutlasses trained on Theodoric, while the others hesitated in their approach. With a roar, they charged. He parried each strike and hit skin with each of his own. There was no flinch or cry as blood splattered his face. He didn’t halt when their bodies fell around him, nor did he stop when more soldiers raced to meet his blade.
Amaris stepped back, her legs jelly beneath her. Esaias joined him back-to-back. They moved swiftly, each an extension of the other. Where one faltered, the other guarded, neither giving up the other’s blind side.
Amaris wished for a weapon she knew how to wield, for her bow that remained hidden beneath a tarp in her garage. She gripped her satchel, her mind for medicine the one true weapon she had. She wasn’t on Earth anymore or walking the streets of Gainesville. Automatic weapons or bows with a scope had no place in Magoria. She felt utterly useless, but she had to try.
She crouched and crawled through the grass, hiding from view as she went to the side arch she’d passed through what felt so long ago. She’d get to the beach and find Adelaide.
Chapter 39
Theo
Amaris was onthe battlefield. Theo couldn’t believe it. She’d had the nerve to run out here, unarmed no less. He shouldn’t have been surprised, since she was the most stubborn woman he’d ever met. His heart had been set ablaze when he kicked the Deavopan soldier off her and he saw her beautiful face. Seeing her covered in his blood had nearly brought him to his knees. She could’ve been killed.
Theo shook his head. He couldn’t think of Amaris. He needed to find a way to break free to find Adelaide. A sword sliced through the air, but he heaved his own and matched their swing. A face poked out from behind the blade, and Theo stalled, almost dropping his guard.
“Isabel,” he whispered.
The woman with her raised sword and freckled cheeks had bright-orange hair poking out from under the bleeding black dye, but he wasn’t mistaken. The serpents on her boots glowed against the lightning striking along the skyline. She wore brown leather armor instead of Deavopan’s military tunics. Isabel stood before him, but she didn’t seem fazed as she moved with feline grace.
A sharp smirk painted her lips. “Hey, big guy. Apparently, you didn’t figure out my warning.”
Isabel was one of them. The whole time she’d deceived him,or had she?
“You?” Esaias shouted over the rain. “I thought you were destined for a long drop on a short rope.”
Isabel ground her teeth as she skimmed her sword against Theo’s. “Sorry to disappoint,” she said but didn’t remove her gaze from Theo. The black dye continued to seep from her hair, dripping down her face.
Theo held his blade firm. “You knew of the attack. It’s why you stopped me on the docks.”
Isabel scoffed. “And you thought me a lonely woman from Duncaster. Some soldier you are.”
Theo allowed her taunts to roll off his back as he trained his eyes on hers, their golden hue tightening a muscle in his chest. Why did he know those eyes?
Before Theo could contemplate the origin of such a vivid color, she pulled back and pounced on Esaias. He blocked her lunge, but her feet moved swiftly as she twirled through the rain, grabbing a fallen sword. Her movements were fluid in the downpour, like she’d done it for years. The droplets were her fueling power.
“You can fuck off to your hovel in the Black Sea,” Esaias barked, spitting blood into the mud. A split lip trickled more down his chin as he breathed.
