I think I’ll keep you. I’ll let you be the one to march beneath Nàdair and end them all yourself.Vairik smirked again.Let those pitiful people see the king they chose for what he really is.
A monster.
Weight pressed down on him, the wind roaring in his ears as it shoved Rion to his knees. He gritted his teeth, palms pressing into the earth. He fought to stand, his body threatening to split in half.
Rion could hear Vairik laughing in his head. The male filled an area in Rion’s mind that he’d never recognized before. It was large and tainted, as if the section had rotted and was spreading to other aspects of his mind with black shadowy tendrils.
Rion clenched his hands into fists so hard his knuckles turned white. This couldn’t be where it all ended. He couldn’t let Vairik have control. His body began shaking. Vairik wasn’t going to kill him. He’d keep him, play with him, experiment on him, until one day he just decided Rion was too boring to keep around anymore. Even then, Vairik would probably let him die slowly instead of ending things himself. He wouldn’t even care.
Would Niall take him then? Torment him for a few more centuries? Make him see visions of Arianna as he killed her over and over again? Only this time, it wouldn’t be a lie.
No, no, no, no.
Rion gritted his teeth and fought harder. A few tendrils of his magic managed to escape. Rion looked up, ready to spear those tendrils through the male’s heart, but Vairik scowled at him, then invisible magic hit Rion like a boulder.
Rion’s arms gave out. His face collided with the hard stone. Rivulets of dark blood ran across the ground, smearing against his cheek. He gagged from the smell. Rotted, as if the Dark Fae were nothing more than week-old carcasses.
His ear pressed painfully against the earth. Rion pulled at his magic again, struggling for control. He could hear everything. Feel it all, too. The footsteps. The magic moving under him. Those from his home country still snatching bodies and dragging them to a cold grave. A light set of boots flying across the field.
Rion lifted his gaze, staring into the crowd. He couldn’t see Talon or Raevina. Too many of the Dark Fae were spitting flames, trying to burn their warriors alive.
The light footfalls twisted, moving from one place to another, then back. Zigzagging as if trying to remain undetected despite their speed. Another set followed.
Voices echoed through his head. From his past, from Vairik, from his nightmares, but those footsteps rooted him to reality. As if they were a beacon.
They were close now. So close. Too close.
No.Rion tried to push himself up again, gritting his teeth against the massive force pinning him to the ground. They were heading straight for Vairik. They’d fail. They’d die.
Rion screamed, roared, let every ounce of pain he’d ever experienced pulse through his body, his muscles, the very fiber of his being. He shoved the voices out, shoved the memories away, too. They weren’t important right now. One chance. He just needed one chance. If he killed Vairik, this would all be over.
At least you’re persistent, Vairik’s voice echoed in his head. The male stalked forward, smirking again as Rion finally managed to get to his hands and knees. Rion’s head was pounding. His skin was stretched too thin, threatening to tear from his bones any minute.
Rion tried to surge to his feet. He just needed to escape the pressure bearing down on him, but he only managed to scoot his hand forward an inch. Rion tried again, fighting with everything in his body to keep the male distracted. That was all those featherlight footsteps needed. A distraction.
A shadow emerged from the left. Rion didn’t dare look at them. Then that shadow slammed into Vairik’s side with enough force to knock the male to the ground.
One dagger sank into the tender flesh of Vairik’s stomach.
The next into Vairik’s side.
The pressure bearing down on Rion vanished and Rion exploded up, darting straight for the male on the ground.
Vairik rolled and yanked the first dagger out. Two more flew at him. Then four. Rion caught her scent. His heart stuttered. She darted to the side.
Ellie.
Gods, Ellie was here.
Ellie threw two more blades, both made of iron. Vairik yanked the other one from his side. Ice exploded against an invisible wall right next to Vairik’s head. Then Vairik lifted his arms and a wave of air shoved both Ellie and Rion back again.
Rion skidded across the ground, panting, struggling to keep his shaking body upright. Ellie crouched, ready to lunge for Vairik again. She didn’t even bother looking at Rion. She was a warrior with a singular goal. The hatred in her eyes told Rion enough. She’d eliminate the one who had taken everything from her. He’d gladly help Ellie get her vengeance.
Rion lunged, but Vairik blocked him easily, as if Rion’s magic and movements were something he’d committed to memory. But not Ellie’s. No, the female jumped out of reach and darted to Vairik’s other side, fast as lightning.
She lunged, fearless, determined. She’d already drawn her twin blades. Ice ripped from her weapons, but Vairik blocked her and stepped aside. He cursed when the future High Lady’s magic sliced into his forearm. Then another gust blew her back, the tendril so violent it tore the leather armor covering her chest.
Ellie didn’t seem to notice. Or didn’t care. She was locked on, ready to take Vairik down, even if it meant giving up her own life in the process.
