I take a sharp breath.
The only thing worse than death is becoming an onpyr.
“Half?” Kahlya asks in shock, tears brimming her eyes.
“We knew the toll of war when we agreed to this,” Celine says, placing a hand in comfort on her lover’s shoulder. “Where did this happen, Mael?”
“Along the coastline. Not far from the Fae borders. We couldn’t advance further by boat; the waves too great. We disembarked a day earlier than planned.”
“Near Bradvva,” Killian states, and my blood freezes in my veins.
They’re here; they’ve entered Wrahta.
My sister is finally making her move.
Mael nods, and a graveyard silence falls upon us. We have a day at best before they attack Sangeries.
“We fled, barely escaping their clutches. We left behind our wounded, galloped all night and day to reach here. To warn you.”
“How many?” Celine asks, her gaze steely as she assesses the threat.
“I’ve—I’ve never seen so many dreadful creatures. They blackened the lands. Set fire to villages and towns. When day broke, we could still see the dark smoke. Still could smell the charred flesh.”
The door opens with a creak of hinges; the healers carry salves and ointments. Blaise and Sariah enter behind them, followed by Ereshkygall and Soren.
“What happened here?” Blaise asks in confusion.
“Morweena,” Killian answers curtly. “Her hordes have breached our borders.”
“Fuck,” Blaise whistles, passing a hand over his face.
“Fuck indeed,” Soren grumbles before turning to his sister. “We should gather the Umbras and prepare to defend the castle.”
“We can’t let them reach the castle,” I exclaim.
“Everybody out,” the healer Esmera orders. “Let us do our job.”
Kahlya is ready to refuse, but Killian gently grabs her elbow, guiding her toward the door. “He has the best healers in Wrahta to cure him. He’ll be alright.”
His impassioned stare washes over each one of us.
“My study. Now. War has arrived at our doorstep.”
The air in the study is heavy with tension, so thick it could cut through bone. Killian paces back and forth like a caged beast, his shadows coilingand uncoiling against his flesh, pulsing with a faint crimson glow and the promise of bloodshed.
“Here,” Blaise says, hunched over a massive map unfolded on the desk. He puts his finger on a spot of ink, words written in a flourished calligraphy I can’t decipher from my vantage point. It matters not, as I already know what is scribbled there.
Bradvva. The fallen city.
Before, the onpyr hordes were contained in the North, and the Saunoque Mountains stood between them and Sangeries. The city of Dithrau was a bastion to uphold, and many died defending it. Prevailing.
Now they are attacking from the South in larger numbers due to the treacherous Fae, and there’s no barrier to hinder them. Not anymore. My sister is coming for all of us, unleashing the scourge of her mindless puppets upon everything that stands in her way. My heart bleeds for all those lost to her madness, vampires and humans alike.
“We can assume everything between the borders and Bradvva has fallen. Even further since the attack on the human army was hours ago. I’ve sent scouts to gather information, but no news so far.”
“No news is usually good news, but I’m wary to believe the same in this instance,” Soren replies in his serious tone, barred of the usual contempt he displays when talking to Blaise. They seem to have put their animosity to the side, if just for a brief break. A common enemy tends to create reluctant allies, after all.
“They will stop to raze to the ground every village and town on their way,” Killian says, fists clenched at his side, seething fury seeping out of his pores. My fingers long to touch him, to provide some sliver of comfort. He fought for so long to keep his people safe, and it’s proven to be all in vain. There’s no escaping the annihilation, not until we defeat Morweena once and for all.
