I also wouldn’t mind a night in my own bed.
We could really use Xavier’s help, but I couldn’t imagine what he was dealing with right now. His own mate doing this to him? His mother? I glared ahead. My anger for him, toward the Fates, fueled my power as it rose a little too quickly to the surface.
He had apparently been feeling Zara’s every emotion, even seeing visions, as she healed from her memories being reunited. According to Xavier, he suspected she was in some sort of deep sleep, reliving her entire life as her mind stitched itself back together.
Gunnar had been working with him to block her out, and I hoped he figured it out soon. He looked a real mess the last time I saw him, and I’m not sure how long we can keep going on like this. Which is maybe why the witches were doing it. Trying to tire us, so that when they made their next big move, we would be too weak and at a disadvantage.
It’s why I pushed for the guards to have more frequent shift rotations. We all needed to be rested and prepared for the battle I knew was going to come. These were only scrimmages, and we were used to them. For the past four hundred years, it has been an everyday occurrence for us. Daka and witches attacked, and we fought. Repeat. However, they had always been random and unorganized. Now they had an army, a plan.
I scoffed as I shot two strikes at a daka who was sneaking up on an unsuspecting group of soldiers. A blonde female had turned around in surprise at the strike and in her fear, thrown fire at the beast as it crashed to the ground in front of her. The girl blinked, looking from her hands to the beast, and smiled, turning back to the fight going on behind her.
I resisted rolling my eyes.
My stomach growled again, and I grunted as I joined another group who were taking on three daka and a witch.
I just wanted a damn sandwich.
Chapter 6
Zara
Blood ran down the side of my face, sticky and hot as my fangs sank into flesh. The vibration in my blood hummed loudly as I drank, my power buzzing with the need for release. I was half witch, half Fae. I didn’t need blood to fuel my power, but it helped replenish it faster.
To any other Fae, blood would taste like blood–metallic, salty and thick. But to a witch, it was like a drug–euphoric, sweet and rich.
The hot, sweet liquid ran down the back of my throat, and I almost moaned at the sensation. A vision formed in my mind—a flash of emerald eyes, a broad chest. Large, calloused fingers moving up my bare thigh.
My back stiffened, and with a growl, I threw the male I had been drinking from aside, watching as he crumpled onto the stone floor, too weak to move.
Shit.
Guards who had been positioned at the large glass doors of the library lazily walked forward. They avoided my gaze asthey bent down, lifting the now pale and unconscious male off the ground by his arms and started to drag him from the room.
He wasn’t dead. I never killed them, at least when it was up to me. I wiped the blood from my mouth with the back of my hand, guilt weighing on me as I turned, catching Lana's gaze.
She was lounging comfortably on a padded, ornate wooden chair next to a long oak table full of scattered books. Her inky hair was braided on either side of her head, the plaits tight against her scalp. Mud dripped off her thick leather boots, which were propped on the table as she absentmindedly picked at her nails, her lips twitching in amusement as her yellow gaze held mine.
Lana was wearing a black silken shirt that buttoned in the middle, and my head tilted as I noticed it. Why did it look familiar? I looked back to Lana and her smile grew as she watched me. My jaw clenched as I glanced back at her shirt again, my brows furrowing. The shirt was familiar somehow, and I kept staring at it, trying to figure out why it had caught my attention. It looked too big on her, as if it were meant for—
My stomach twisted sharply, and I couldn’t stop the surge of magic that rose to the surface of my skin. Shadows blasted from me, but I managed to stop them getting too far.
I glared as the black, wispy tendrils pulsed around my body like static. The stone beneath me turned black as my power tried to push from me.
The rage I felt at seeing that fucking shirt.Hisshirt onher.The emotions were all-consuming… but why did I fucking care? His scent drifted toward me, and I growled louder, the shadows darkening in the room.
I took a deep breath, as my magic fought against my skin, wanting to be released again.
Fucking fates, get it together.
Lana let out a laugh, and I snapped.
Before I could register what I was doing, I materialized in front of her, my fist already flying toward the side of her marred face.
She must have expected it, as she had already jumped to her feet, her forearm knocking my fist off its path toward her face with ease. My boot lifted, and I crashed it into her sternum; she grunted, air leaving her lungs, as she flew backwards. Wood splintered underneath her as she landed on a nearby table, the crack of the wood echoing around us.
Lana was on her feet in an instant, but I was already in front of her again, my fist finally connecting with the side of her face. The skin on my knuckles broke open from the force as her skull whipped to the side. Satisfaction rang through me, but my triumph was short-lived as Lana’s fist slammed into my fucking throat. I took a few stumbling paces back, choking on my next breath. Her attack disoriented me enough that I wasn’t prepared when her boot slammed into my chest, launching me backward.
Glaring at Lana’s smug face, I shadowed midair and landed gracefully a few feet away. My hand extended, and a long, black rope appeared in my palm as I whipped it through the air toward her. It wrapped around Lana’s ankle, and I pulled. She snarled as she was thrown backwards, her back slamming onto the stone floor.
