But I don’t waver. This is only one battle. I have to prepare for a war.
“Let them through,” I call to the Woodland Fae and he stops. Even Kaden turns to look at me, smoke billowing into our faces.
I’m reminded of the Kaden from the purification ritual. How they both have the same look in their eyes now—a need for blood, to fight and own their enemy. It worried me then, but I realize this is Kaden. He is ruthless in his technique. He’s always had to be.
“Let them through,” I say again. Now Fee looks at me, frowning. “I’ll take on what I can, and Kaden will do the rest. What’s left or we can’t handle, Fee can use her magic.”
This way, we don’t lose anymore guards. We hit them fast and return to the palace with little causalities.
“Impressive,” Kaden muses. Nodding at Mal, he commands, “Let them in.”
Mal curses under his breath and Fee extinguishes the fire to make a small opening. The narrow path only allows so many to come through at a time, bottling the soldiers. As they do, I let my magic fill my veins, the rising of a wave that wants to consume every heart.
It’s hungry. Locating the Humans’ hearts, my fingers crack and pop, knuckles distended and red. There is no pain, just the satisfying crush of hearts exploding in my ears.
The Humans drop, most of them in stages.
By the fourth one, my body sways and Kaden grabs me, keeping me upright. Blood drips from my nose, but I know I can do one more round.I can finish this.
“That’s enough, kitten,” he says against my temple. More Humans are coming but the numbers are dwindling. This is a good test of what the final battles will be like. “You’ve done enough.”
“I can still help.”
“Know your limits, love.” He kisses my cheek. “Know that you must rely on others to fight. Trust that everyone will do their part.”
“I do trust you,” I whisper. “But I’m the child in the prophecy. My job is to save the world.”
“Max,” he says, shaking his head. The Humans are coming closer, and swords begin to clash. There are just so many of them. How is this possible?
Kaden twists away as one slips beside us, slicing his shoulder to his elbow. I reach out, crushing his heart without a second thought, ignoring the flare of pain on my body. Sharing a bond is fun, until a battle puts you both at risk.
Panting, he holds me, fingers digging into my skin. “You saved me, a feat no one else could do. Let me helpyousave the world.”
At my determined but defeated nod, my mate turns back to the crowd, eyes pitch black. The shadows rise, like hands from the grave, and grip their ankles. Without another word, he lifts his chin and the shadows eat the soldiers, some screaming out in fear.
Wherever they go, they don’t come back.
Not many are left now. In one swoop, Kaden and I have almost ended the raid. Fee pouts, crossing her arms. “You didn’t leave me many.”
Laughing, I fall back into Kaden’s arms, lighter than I have in years. “My apologies. Can you handle what’s left?”
She rolls her eyes, a decidedly Fee act. “Please.”
The fire consumes the Humans, swallowing their shrieks and shouts into a blazing inferno. My fear for fire doesn’t stop me from admiring her. She only just received this gift and yet, she controls it better than anyone else here.
“Shall we?” Reid jerks a thumb. Behind the charred remains of people are bloodied Fae survivors and overturns carriages. The guards take action, helping those with wounds, or saying a prayer for those who are dead. Baris tends to a few cuts, still knowing how to treat injuries, and I’m amazed at his patience. Something I did not inherit.
Kaden stalks the ground, mind spinning, thinking. This is the Fae I love—seeing his mind work, calculate all possible scenarios. This is the male who will make a great king.
“This was pointless,” he growls, crossing his arms.
At my silence, he holds out his hand. “Why did Griffin send people here? There was nothing to take. I thought maybe it was to steal lords, but the Woodland Fae usually are not taken.”
“Maybe he’s changing tactics?”
“Or he was sent here.” He runs a hand through his black locks, aggravated. “That’s the only thing that does make sense. He was sent here. Maybe for something. Or a distraction.”
“You forget your history,” Baris says, walking to stop beside me.
