Chapter Forty-Eight
Saoirse
There were too many.
Saoirse panted at Zylah’s side, doing everything in her power to keep the female safe from the clutches of their enemy. She should have put her on a boat and sent her to another continent. She should have told Zylah to start her life already and leave the Fae to clean up their own mess. But Saoirse also knew Zylah wouldn't abandon her friends or family. The people fighting were the ones she’d chosen in place of those who had already been stolen from her. She wouldn’t let it happen again. Not without a fight.
Saoirse gasped for breath, adjusting her grip on the weapon in her weakened hand. The creatures had already nearly knocked it out of her grasp twice. It was only because of Zylah that she maintained her grip. She wouldn’t fall until Zylah did. She wouldn’t allow the female to face death alone.
Another jaw snapped too close, and Saoirse leapt back, sending a poisonous vine flying straight through the creature’s throat.
“We have to move,” Zylah warned. Saoirse couldn't bring herself to retort, not as she watched Zylah's wide gaze take in the Dark Fae surrounding them, then the bodies of their comrades littering the ground.
The truth was, there was nowhere else to run. No more warriors to offer relief.
Zylah panted, her body visibly shaking. Even her magic was sluggish now, slower to react, and Saoirse wasn’t faring much better. She ground her teeth, summoning the remaining dregs of her energy even as it burned through her veins.
A growl had her spinning to find a Dark Fae lunging at Zylah from behind. She grabbed the female and spun her out of the way, throwing her arm up. Saoirse summoned the woody stem at her feet.
Nothing happened.
The Dark Fae’s fangs latched onto her forearm, sinking deep. It almost seemed to smile in triumph then shook its massive head.
Saoirse screamed and her body flailed, her neck and limbs violently shaken from side to side. The teeth bit down harder, cracking bone. Saoirse screamed again and grabbed the knife from her boot before shoving it straight into the beast’s eye socket.
It released its hold, and she crumbled in on herself. The beast fell back, pawing at its face then a trunk shot straight up through its torso, courtesy of her second. He was panting too, tottering on his feet.
Another Dark Fae lunged, but Zylah’s magic blasted it away. The female slid down beside Saoirse, scrambling to draw runes in the earth that would serve as a temporary barrier. Zylah had already done it twice. It had saved their lives both times.
Nothing happened.
Zylah tried again, furiously dragging her split nail through the dirt. She did it again, gritting her teeth. Tears slid down her face. She desperately looked across the field, noting how close another horde was to overwhelming them. Saoirse’s second’s magic faltered.
Saoirse grimaced in pain, then examined her arm, or what was left of it. The limb was only hanging by a piece of muscle and a sliver of exposed bone. She was losing blood fast.
A creature with fire blasted the last of their line back. Screams pierced the air and Saoirse watched as another of their comrades had their torso ripped wide open.
She swallowed hard and looked at her mate. Zylah didn't deserve this. She deserved an easy death. A peaceful one away from such chaos and violence.
Zylah desperately tried to paint runes over Saoirse's arm next. Saoirse grabbed Zylah's shoulder with her uninjured hand and pulled her close. Zylah tried to shake her off, to tend to the wound, but Saoirse grasped her hand next.
“Look at me.” Zylah’s shoulders heaved when their eyes locked. “It’s okay.”
Zylah shook her head. “I can try—”
Saoirse held her hand tighter and positioned herself so they were sitting knee to knee. “Focus on me.” Zylah’s body trembled and Saoirse pressed their foreheads together, relishing in the way this one person made her heart sing. She reached for the bond, cradling it, and Zylah reached back. “Just focus on me.”
Chapter Forty-Nine
Rion
Everything had just—stopped.
His world.
His heart.
The very meaning of life itself.
