A swirled blade sliced through the head, so close to my snout that I felt the whoosh of air against the sensitive black pad of my nose. Expertly wielded, the hatchet severed the succubus’s head. Two more swings and the body fell away as well.
I shifted.
And this time, my power answered.
My knees hit the ground, the black bile and churned up dirt sinking into the knees of my trousers. A raindrop fell on the pale brown hand that extended in front of me.
Mordred. My son had saved me.
I took his hand. Tugged myself to my feet. Refused to acknowledge the pain in my back. I couldn’t count the wounds; the pain was too intense. Nor could I parse the scent of my own blood from the rivers of it that flowed around me.
My eyes flicked upward. Orcadion was nowhere in sight. But Mordred stood in front of me, his chest heaving up and down in a rhythm that my own echoed back.
Arran?
The force of relief nearly brought me back to my knees.Veyka.
What’s wrong? Are you injured?she demanded, her worry flooding the connection between us. But if she was worried for me, that meant she was not scared for herself. Wherever she was, she was whole.
I gritted my teeth. I could not say the same for myself—but I also did not need her distracted with my wellbeing.I am fine.
Silence filled my mind.
I did not need her words. With the connection restored, I could feel her response. She did not believe me.
49
VEYKA
Arran was lying to me. I added it to my list of grievances to punish him for later. We would survive to have that argument.
“We need to scout ahead,” I told Lyrena, fighting at my back. “Can you grab my arm?”
“Arrrggggh!” Lyrena cried out, her back leaving mine, pushing me back with the momentum she needed to charge forward. A heartbeat later, she was back, her breath coming in uneven gasps. She stank of the black souls the succubus expelled; we both did.
“Scouting?” she managed between breaths.
My chin stabbed an uneven nod as I parried, swinging Excalibur wide across the gut of the very same succubus she’d driven back with her flame seconds before.
The monster dropped. Lyrena swallowed hard. Her smile was more of a grimace as I grabbed her arm. “Let’s go.”
It was the hardest thing I’d ever done. Whenever I fought, whether it be sparring in the training ring or facing the first massacre of Baylaur, my mind descended past thinking into a place of visceral control. But in that place, I could not reach Arran.
Our bond was emotional. It appeared that if I shut down my emotions, then that part of my heart that belonged to him, that allowed us to communicate as if we were one soul split into two bodies, that was also blocked.
How was I supposed to kill and feel at the same time?
The human woman’s screams echoed through my mind.
My husband.
I shoved Excalibur through what had once been the heart of a human adolescent.
I can still see the eastern cliffs. The succubus are thinning here, I told Arran.
Grabbed Lyrena’s arm. Through the void.
Two of the monsters converged on me. One latched onto my arm, sinking its sharpened teeth into my thick leather armor. But I couldn’t bleed. I swiped for my dagger, dragging it across the knuckles to get the succubus to release me. But succubus didn’t feel pain. I rammed the dagger into its throat instead. I didn’t let go, not when every amorite weapon was precious. The succubus reeled backward, taking me with it, bringing the second one down atop me. I pulled my knees to my chest, only to be enveloped with flame. Lyrena ripped the succubus off of me. I sprang to my feet and drove Excalibur into its gut in two coordinated motions.
