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“I will deal with the first group,” he says, and when the first shadow closes in, his arm shoots out at vampire speed to grab it by the throat and yank.
The sound it makes is neither animal nor human, and for a second I think it’ll get free. But Dezi’s grip must be iron because he wrenches the creature off the bridge and hurls it into the dark. The next one claws at his face, but he ducks and brings his free hand up with sharp claws, splitting the thing in two like a sack of wet leaves. Blood intermittently spatters the bridge—except it’s not blood, just a silvery vapor that immediately sublimates in the cold.
Son. Of. A. Bitch.
Revelin steps up from the back, and I see the golden light build in his hands, a Daybreak trick that’s reserved for self-defense. He points at the closest shadow, and the beam is so intense that it burns the thing away in a single blast, leaving only a scorch mark on the silver. The light carries down the line, wounding the rest, and several tumble off the side, claws scrabbling uselessly.
“Guys, this trial is supposed to be for—”
Another group of three comes for us at once, and I don’t wait for Knuckles to finish—I shift halfway, letting the leopard guide me as I attack. My nails lengthen, fangs drop, and I rip the first shadow from the bridge, tearing it to nothing. The other two hesitate, like they can sense what I am, and that gives me time to look at the others.
“Keep moving. Knuckles, anyone who can take these fuckers out should. If you want in, let it loose, for fuck’s sake!” I snarl over my shoulder.
She’s right about needing to fight, but she’s not doing it, and I have no idea why.
Looking in front of us, I realize the last fifty feet are chaos. The bridge is alive with shadows, and the surface grows so slick it’s like walking on oil. Every step, I expect someone to slip, but we pull ourselves together, keeping each other upright even as the monsters close in.
Fiadh pushes past me, standing at the front now with her hands splayed out like she’s searching for a wall that isn’t there. The shadows sense her power and converge, hissing and howling as they move towards her. She has to do whatever it is she’s planning now, or we’re going to be swarmed.
Her voice is a whisper. “I need your help. I cannot win if you don’t work with me, even though we are not yet comfortable with one another.”
What the hell does that mean?
But I stay quiet as she plants her feet to throw her palms up to what serves as the sky here. The veins in her hands and neck light up with silver fire, and moonlight erupts—not like before, but as a sphere that bursts outwards, incinerating the nearest wave and stunning the rest.
For a heartbeat, she’s nothing but a silhouette in the glare, and then the light winks out.
Fi drops to one knee, a nosebleed painting her upper lip red as she breathes hard. Khol and I haul her up to carry her as she gets herself under control. The last ten feet are a sprint, all of us moving like a pack with our mate barely conscious. We hit the far platform just as the bridge behind us dissolves; the silver sloughing away into mist like it always intended to do so.
Everyone collapses on the cold stone, gasping for air. Above, the sky is now lit by a thousand stars, but all I can see dancing across my retinas is Fi bursting with moonlight and power to eradicate those damn shadow things. It was beyond impressive, and definitely something we don’t want to repeat if possible. She wasn’t ready for it, and it’s obvious by her state right now.
Knuckles wipes the blood from her face with the back of her hand when I look at her. Her lips tremble, but she doesn’t cry. “That was awesome,” she croaks, and Khol snorts, shaking his head at her attempt at humor.
I glance ahead and catch a shimmer of movement—something watching, just beyond the last of the light. The next trial, I’m sure, but we’re not quite ready yet. I put a hand on Fiadh’s back, steady and warm.
“We made it through the first part. That means we can make it through the rest of their shit,” I say, and for once, I believe it.
Dezi arches a brow as he smirks at me. “That confident, are we, kitty? We have no idea what awaits us ahead.”
“It doesn’t matter,” our mate says as she wipes her nose again. “Failure isn’t an option if we want to live, and I’ll be damned if these shitbirds are going to keep me from killing the ones who ended the only parents I remember. They weren’t perfect, but they kept Fer and I safe until we were old enough to get our powers. According to the insinuations of the Council, that’s uncommon. That alone means I’m fighting through this shit to avenge them. Got it?”
This is the woman I love—I don’t know where she was hiding for a bit there, but I’m glad as hell that she's back.
Seventeen
FIADH
The world rights itself all at once, not with a gentle fade but a stomach-lurching pop as if reality decides it’s done with the pretense and would rather punch you in the throat. I stagger forward, still half-winded and blinking away the afterimage of a bridge made from madness, and smack straight into Khol’s shoulder. He’s breathing hard too, but unlike the rest of us, he doesn’t bother pretending he needs the time—basilisk stamina is impressive.
Damn shifters and their fucking bullshit.
The room we spill into is as vast as a coliseum, and its walls are nothing but glistening crystals that fracture the moonlight into violent shards. The air hums with the high whine of magic. Each breath tastes like something sweet I can’t identify, but it feels so familiar that my teeth ache.
Tiernan’s first move is to size up the exits. “Dead ends,” he mutters, scanning the glassy perimeter, fingers already flicking through his mental armory. “No doors, no windows. Unless you count—” He gestures up, where the ceiling domes into a prismatic lattice that looks about as trustworthy as an ex with a bouquet.
Well, that’s unfortunate, because only Revelin can fly.
My rockstar runs a hand through his tousled hair, still every inch a prince even with a jacket torn at the sleeve and shadow-thingy spatter on him. “Well,” he says, “that was a helluva party. Ten out of ten, would almost die again.”
