Page 51

“My turn, motherfucker.”

Magnolia

Kenna and I didn’t bother changing after we got Jax fixed up. The three of us jumped directly to the coordinates—the location of the last signal emitted by August’s suit.

After Adrastos took Ally, Tessa and Damien had made certain every Grayshellian—and all their allies—had trackers fitted into their armor.

Thank the Seven Sisters for it, because we jumped directly into the familiar chaos of battle.

Death moved solemnly through the bloodshed, reaping his prizes and easing the passage of good souls damned too soon.

Smoke choked the air. Shadows appeared and vanished between breaths.

Cyrus, wings spread wide, dove into and out of the fray with lethal precision, his blades finding spines and skulls, severing necks with frightening efficiency.

My gaze swept across the carnage as a cloud of shadows opened into a portal across from us.

Moros Balaskas stepped through.

Every inch of my body turned icy hot, a tremor rocking through my hands.

Blood.

I craved his blood the way a starving man dreamed of a full belly. As though I were drowning, and only the sight of his head at my feet could return oxygen to my lungs.

Bloodlust. That was what this was. Retribution had never seemed so tantalizing.

I glanced at Jax. “Give the order to bring him down.”

“For Aren,” he agreed.

With a curt nod, he vanished, and the focus of the entire field shifted.

Grayshellians abandoned their individual fights and immediately moved into a formation I couldn’t name but somehow recognized as a coordinated strike. Shields rippled into place behind them, shimmering between our warriors and the enemies at their backs—enemies the Paladins descended upon with renewed vigor.

Moros merely smiled and closed his eyes.

No.

“Now!” I screamed, though no one could have heard me over the chaos.

When he opened his eyes, darkness had consumed them. Black veins stretched across his face and raced down his neck as he twisted it with serpentine grace.

“Fuck.”

Even as the word left me, the screaming began.

Shields.

They needed to reinforce the shields.

My gaze snapped upward, scanning for our first target. Searching for that towering frame and Grayshellian armor.

“Where is he?” I barked.

Kenna shook her head, sorrow carved into her face as she watched the bloodshed unfold.

I spotted Freya kneeling beside August, her knees sunk into the silt as he gripped her shoulder like he couldn’t get to his feet. My heart plummeted, fear racing up my spine⁠—