The Nephilim brings down its giant fist, missing me by mere inches. The force of its blow still makes me stumble, nearly falling on my sword. What an embarrassing way to die. I quickly right myself and charge again, this time skewering my sword through the creature’s foot.
Audible war cries break through the clearing, signaling I’m no longer alone. The centaurs reach mefirst, but the trolls follow in suit, with Finnick leading them. He looks little more than a small shimmer, but he’s a powerful force in his own right. I jump out of the way just in time as the centaurs stampede past me, eyes focused on their target. They lock in battle instantly.
“Are you okay?” Finnick is at my side again. “You held your own against a Nephilim. That’s no small feat.”
“No,” I pant, allowing my muscles to unclench now that I’m no longer alone. “No, it’s not, but I’d rather not fight one alone again.”
“My fool of a brother thought a stern voice would keep me in place,” Finnick snorts.
And, well, fair. I doubt it mattered how Niko spoke to Finnick. The sprite would have done what he wanted to do, regardless. The only thing that would stop him is if Niko locked him away in a jar or something he couldn’t escape. However, I suspect Finnick would find a way to do the impossible.
“Who screamed?” Finnick reminds me why we ran over here in the first place.
“That woman there.” I point to her unmoving form on the ground. “Don’t know who she is, but she was holding a pan.”
“A pan? Like something you’d use in the kitchen?”
“That’s the one.”
“Huh,” Finnick hums in thought. Probably getting some weird idea or inspiration from the cookware.
There’s a sudden flash of fear through my connection with Niko, and I gasp, clutching my chest.
“Zephyr?” Finnick asks, concerned, but I barely register him. My mind is desperately trying to connectwith Niko, making sure he’s okay. That bastard told me not to die, and I’ll be pissed if he didn’t listen to his own orders.
“I need to go…” I grunt, my chest heaving.
“But what about the girl with the pan?” he asks before I can leave.
I curse silently. “Just stay with her until she wakes up. Make sure she’s okay.”
“But—”
“Finnick, I have to go!” My voice comes out sharper than I intend, but I can’t afford to care at the moment. Maybe I’ll regret it later, but right now, every instinct in me is screaming to find Niko and make sure that reckless bastard isn’t injured, or worse. I have to believe this strange woman is in good hands with the sprite.
Without another word, I turn and sprint back the way I came, leaving Finnick and the mysterious woman behind. The air is thick with the scent of smoke and magic, the distant clash of battle ringing in my ears. But none of it matters.
I push forward, straight into the heart of the chaos, desperate to reach my mate.
Chapter 6
Niko
My body betrays me. My strength and magic are depleting quickly. I’m not the only one affected by our lack of food in the kingdom. My soldiers, once a fierce and deadly unit, lack the grace they once fought with. Their moves are weakened, sloppy even. They tire easily and make careless mistakes. Hunger has a way of taking over the mind and the body, making everything else require great effort.
Despite this, there’s no giving up when faced with Nephilim. Only half of them remain standing, but half is still too many. Their strength and magic are as strong as ever. Each slam of a fist against the earth or blast of powerful magic has me stumbling back or jumping out of the way of their destruction.
I use the small reserve of my powers and split the land. The Nephilim coming straight at me realizes what I’ve done too late and has no chance to get out of the way before the earth swallows it whole.
I bury it alive, stitching the earth back togetheragain. The furious roaring is soon swallowed up, bringing a tentative silence that only lasts until the last two Nephilim see what I’ve done to their fallen brother. They bellow their outrage, hurling a burst of power at the fae attacking them. It’s not a killing blow, but it’s still effective, sending those in close proximity flying backwards before crashing against the damp earth.
There are no more obstacles in the Nephilim’s way. As one, they approach me, magic sparking around them. It’s palpable and powerful, nearly suffocating me with its potency. I raise my sword, but it may as well be a twig compared to the strength and power of the Nephilim before me.
“NIKO!” is bellowed with sickening torment that can only belong to my mate, Zephyr.
I look toward where his voice came from, seeing my fearsome mate rushing through a clearing, eyes wide with fear. He looks between me and the quickly approaching Nephilim, probably noting I’m alone. He’s too far away to reach me in time, but that doesn’t stop him from sprinting toward me, conjuring up ice shards to throw at the Nephilim. However, like me, he’s quickly tapping out of his supply.
Magic isn’t limitless. It needs rest, time to refuel. Normally, our magic can withstand long periods of time, but that’s only if we are in our prime, something we haven’t been in a long time. Opening up the earth to swallow the Nephilim has drained me, leaving me completely unprepared to deal with the two bastards nearly upon me.
