A strange calm settled over me. Something about this moment felt so strangely familiar—so right. It felt like every choice I’d made, every path I’d taken, had brought me here. I wassupposedto be in this street during the fight to save Dubnos.
One of the storm fae noticed me approaching the fight, and he rushed toward me with hands raised. I braced myself against the blast of wind he threw into my face. It batted against my armor and whipped my braid, but I held firm, my knees bent and my feet locked to the ground.
When the wind subsided, I met the fae’s glare with one of my own and called upon the power. Not my mate’s power this time, but the power that resided within me, desperate to be freed. I mingled it with Kalen’s mist, which now seeped from my own skin, and let that mist carry my dark power toward my enemy. For a moment, nothing happened. He didn’t see the threat for what it was. Instead, he sneered and started to blast his wind once more.
The mist reached his face. It writhed around him, clung to his skin, and seeped into his pores.
Shock flashed through his eyes, and he opened his mouth to scream.
Dust consumed him.
Kalen reached my side as the dust began to clear, his sword dripping with blood. Without a word, he put his back to me. I followed his lead and pressed my back against his. Our armor thudded as we linked our bodies and moved. We spun in a slow circle. He held his sword, and I curled my fists.
Two shadowfiends suddenly leapt out of the shadows, hurtling straight at us. Fangs bared, one of the beasts ran toward me. I opened my hands and sent another cloud of death mist toward the creature. It hit him only seconds before he could reach me. Kalen took on the second beast. His sword sliced through flesh and fur, killing the shadowfiend with brutal speed.
We continued on like that, fighting enemy after enemy together. With every street we cleared, my heart felt lighter, even as death clung to my skin. But we did not falter for even a breath. We persisted until the sounds of fighting faded to a dull murmur, until my soul felt spent and my body ached.
Until every last one of them was dead.
Cheers filled the city, from the battlements to the bloody streets, to the castle itself.
Even still, I did not rest. I took my tired body to the skies to do a sweep overhead. I didn’t want to leave any shadowfiend or storm fae unaccounted for.
That was when I spotted the raven swooping through the gates, followed closely by a group of warriors who raced into Dubnos with a furious battle cry. And Gaven led the charge.
Relief soothed my frayed nerves as I rejoined Kalen and the others on the street. With a smile, I told them who’d arrived, and together, we went to meet our allies and celebrate the victory, as temporary as we all knew it was.
For now, Dubnos was safe. We had won.
Fifty-One
Niamh
“We should leave,” Alastair said as I paced the length of the library. Val sat with her boots propped up on a corner table, idly flipping through one of the history books. Every now and then, she’d offer up a morsel of information—a king named Bran had sent a spy to Albyria a hundred years ago. He’d watched Teine from a hole in the wall for days before deciding the Daughter of Stars hadn’t been born yet.
On and on it all went. For centuries, the humans of Talaven had waited for the one who would save them all, or so they said. I found it fairly infuriating they were ignoring it now, all because Tessa Baran did not have a pair of wings or something ridiculous like that. They were cowards.
And yet we needed them.
“We can’t go back to Aesir without an alliance with the mortals,” I snapped at Alastair, though none of this was his fault. He’d tried his damnedest. So had I. So had Val, in fact. But they wouldn’t even listen to the pleadings of a human.
“We got what we came for. Information.”
I clucked my tongue, still pacing. “We came here to find out how to banish the gods. All they’ve told us is some ancient prophecy, one where a winged girl saves this world from annihilation.”
“And that’s Tessa.”
I slowed to a stop, my heart pounding. “But what if they’re right, Alastair? What if she doesn’t make the right choice? I won’t deny she’s special, but she’s never shown any hint of power at all. She’s just strong. That’s not enough.”
Val lowered the book. “That’s not true. She killed a shadowfiend once, when she was a child. And she hauled both of us up the side of a chasm wall while using only one hand to hold on to the rope.”
“She killed a shadowfiend when she was a child?”
“Yeah, I thought you knew. It traumatized her. Her mind locked the memory away because she couldn’t handle it…but then she remembered while she was out there with you all hunting down Oberon.”
I moved over to the table and sat down across from her. “She killed one when she was with us, too. With a sword.”
Val just grinned, a sparkle in her eye. “She didn’t have a sword the first time. Her father, the bastard, wouldn’t let her have one. She used her fucking hands.”
