27. This is War

27

This is War

Merin

T he others were up ahead, their steps heavy and their faces grim as they picked their way through the twisted, treacherous terrain of the Unseelie lands. King Oliver, who had introduced himself to Merin and the others with a quiet, regal grace that belied the pain and the weariness etched into every line of his face, was walking alongside Kieran, their heads bent close together in quiet conversation.

Merin watched them for a moment, a small, wistful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "King Oliver and Kieran seem to be getting along well," he remarked, his voice low and thoughtful. "Almost like they've known each other for years, not just a handful of hours."

Roman chuckled, a warm, rich sound that made Merin's heart flutter in his chest. "Yeah, they do, don't they? I'm happy for Kieran, though. He deserves someone who understands him, who can be there for him through all the ups and downs of this crazy, fucked-up world we live in."

Merin nodded, a flicker of sadness and regret passing over his face. He knew all too well what it was like to face the darkness alone, to feel like you were drowning in a sea of fear and doubt with no one to pull you back to the surface.

"There's something I need to tell you. Something that happened before we came here, before we found you and the others in the forest." Merin said somberly, his eyes fixed on a point somewhere beyond Roman's shoulder.

Roman's brow furrowed, a flicker of concern and curiosity passing over his face. "What is it, Mer? You're starting to worry me. What's wrong?"

Merin took a deep breath, steeling himself for the words that needed to be said. "Wanda's dead," he said, his voice low and rough with emotion. "I killed her, Roman. I took her soul core, the part of her that was infected by Ridan's dark magic, and I… I crushed it. Ended her life, snuffed out her existence like it was nothing more than a candle to be extinguished."

Roman was quiet for a moment, his expression thoughtful.

Finally meeting Roman's gaze, his eyes searching for any sign of revulsion or disgust. "Are you… are you disgusted with me? For taking a life like that? I know it was necessary, but I can't help feeling like I've crossed a line I can never come back from."

Roman then reached out, taking Merin's hands in his own. "Merin, listen to me," he said, his voice low and intense. "You did what you had to do. Wanda was a monster, a creature of darkness and evil who would have stopped at nothing to destroy everything we hold dear. You can't fault yourself for ending her, for doing what needed to be done to keep the realms safe."

"But I killed someone, Roman," Merin insisted, his voice breaking slightly. "I took a life. How can you not be repulsed by that?"

"Because I know you, Mer," Roman said firmly. "I know your heart. You didn't do this out of malice or cruelty. You did it to protect others, to save lives. That doesn't make you a monster. It makes you a hero."

Roman's hand tightened around his, a silent gesture of comfort and love that made Merin's heart ache with gratitude. "I'm proud of you, Mer," he murmured, his lips brushing against Merin's temple in a soft, tender kiss. "I know it couldn't have been easy, doing what you did. But you were brave, and you were strong, and you did what needed to be done. And I love you, I love you so fucking much, for the incredible, amazing man you are."

Merin felt tears pricking at his eyes, overwhelmed by Roman's unwavering support. "Even after this? You still love me?"

"Always," Roman said without hesitation. "Nothing could ever change that. We're in this together, Mer. Whatever comes next, whatever battles we have to face, we'll face them side by side. You're not alone in this. You never will be."

For the first time since the battle, Merin felt a weight lift from his shoulders. He leaned into Roman's embrace, drawing strength from his presence. "Thank you," he whispered. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

Roman smiled softly, pressing another kiss to Merin's forehead. "You'll never have to find out. I'm here, Mer. Always."

Before he knew it, he felt a flicker of unease, a prickle of warning at the back of his neck that made his skin crawl and his magic hum with a quiet, insistent urgency.

"Wait," he said, his voice low and tense as he pulled back from Roman's arms, his eyes scanning the forest around them with a sharp, assessing gaze. "Something's not right. I can feel it."

Rowan's face hardened, his hand falling to the hilt of his sword with a grim, unyielding determination. "I feel it too," he said, his voice ringing out clear and strong in the stillness of the forest. "We're close to the entrance of the Unseelie Court, close to the heart of Riordan's power. And if I know that bastard, he's not going to let us just waltz in and take back what he stole without a fight."

A murmur of agreement rippled through the group, a wave of tension and anticipation that made Merin's heart race and his blood sing with the thrill of impending battle. They were ready for this, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead and emerge victorious on the other side.

But even as they steeled themselves for the fight to come, even as they drew their weapons and called upon their magic and prepared to charge headlong into the fray.

And then, like a nightmare made flesh, like a horror ripped straight from the depths of his worst imaginings, it appeared. A swirling, seething mass of shadows and smoke, a vortex of pure, unadulterated evil that made Merin's very soul shudder with revulsion.

"Lydia," Rowan breathed, his voice shaking with a mix of anger and despair. "What have you done? What could possibly have driven you to this, to turn your back on everything we stood for and everyone who loved you?"

But Lydia just smiled, a cold, cruel thing that made Merin's blood run cold in his veins. "Oh, Rowan," she purred, her voice like silk and smoke and the whisper of forgotten nightmares. "You naive, foolish boy. You really thought I was on your side, didn't you? Thought that I cared about your precious realms, your pathetic dreams of peace and unity?"

She threw back her head and laughed, a sound that was like the shattering of glass, like the tearing of flesh and the snapping of bone. "I was never on your side, Rowan. I was always Riordan's, always his faithful servant and his willing tool. And now, at last, my true purpose will be fulfilled. Now, at last, I will unleash the darkness upon the world and watch as it consumes everything you hold dear."

Merin felt a surge of rage, of hatred so pure and potent that it nearly took his breath away. This woman, this monster, had caused so much pain, so much suffering. Had torn families apart and shattered lives like they were nothing more than playthings for her amusement.

"You guys are way too late," Lydia sneered, her eyes glittering with malice. "Riordan is close to finishing the ritual. But you'll have to get through me first."

Merin closed his eyes for a moment, reaching out with his magic, his very soul. And there it was - a darkness that clung to Lydia's essence like a shroud, like a poison that had seeped into her very bones.

Lydia attacked. Her army of spirits surged forward, a tidal wave of shadow and malice that slammed into them with the force of a thousand screams.

Chaos erupted around him, the clash of magic and steel and the cries of the wounded filling the air like a symphony of agony. He saw Rowan lunge at Lydia, his sword flashing in a deadly arc as he sought to cut her down, to end her reign of terror once and for all.

But something was wrong. A prickling at the back of his neck, a whisper of warning that made his skin crawl and his magic hum with unease.

"Roman!" Merin shouted, his eyes seeking out his mate in the midst of the fray. He was in his bear form, all rippling muscle and gleaming fur as he tore through the spirits like they were made of paper. "The Dullahan is here!"

It burst from the shadows like a nightmare made flesh, its mace whirling and its black steed rearing with a scream that shattered the very air itself.

"Shit!" Merin heard James curse, his hook flashing as he struggled to fend off a pack of spirits. "We're fucked. We're so fucking fucked."

But Merin couldn't let himself think like that, couldn't let the fear and the hopelessness take hold. They had to fight, had to find a way to push back against the darkness that threatened to swallow them whole.

He summoned his bow with a thought, the arcane weapon shimmering into existence in his hand. He nocked an arrow, his fingers steady and sure as he took aim at the Dullahan's chest.

"Hey, ugly!" Merin called out, his voice ringing clear and strong above the din of battle. "Over here, you headless son of a bitch!"

The Dullahan turned, its eyeless sockets seeming to bore into Merin with a malevolence that made his very soul shudder. But he held his ground, held fast to the courage and the stubborn will that had carried him through so much already.

He loosed his arrow, the bolt of arcane energy streaking through the air like a comet, like a falling star. It struck the Dullahan square in the chest, a burst of light and power that made the creature stagger back, its mace faltering in its grip.

"Roman!" Merin yelled, already nocking another arrow. "I'll keep it distracted. You go for the legs, try to cripple the damn thing!"

His mate let out a roar of acknowledgment, his bear form charging forward with a speed and a ferocity that took Merin's breath away. He swiped at the Dullahan's flank, his claws tearing through rotting flesh and sending a spray of black ichor splattering across the ground.

For a moment, just a moment, Merin allowed himself to hope. To believe that maybe, just maybe, they could do this. That they could find a way to turn the tide, to emerge victorious against the odds that seemed so hopelessly stacked against them.

But the Dullahan was strong, so much stronger than any foe they had faced before. It lashed out with its mace, the spiked head slamming into Roman's side with a sickening crack of bone and a spray of blood that made Merin's heart seize in his chest.

"Roman!" Merin screamed, his voice raw and ragged with desperation. But even as he lunged forward, even as he poured every ounce of his strength and his magic into the fight… he knew it wasn't enough.

He had to get to Riordan, had to put an end to this madness before it was too late. Before the ones he loved, the family he had fought so hard to protect, were lost forever.

"Benjamin!" Merin shouted, his eyes seeking out the mage in the chaos of the battle. He spotted him a few yards away, his quill staff whirling and his magic crackling around him in a halo of light.

Benjamin turned to him, his face tight with strain and exhaustion. "Mer! What do we do?"

Merin swallowed hard, his jaw clenching with a grim, steely resolve. "You and the others, you stay here. Keep fighting, keep the Dullahan and Lydia's spirits at bay for as long as you can."

He locked eyes with Rowan, a silent plea passing between them. "Roman and I, we have to get to the Unseelie castle. Have to stop Riordan before he finishes the ritual and unleashes hell on earth."

Benjamin hesitated, his eyes flicking to Roman's prone form with a look of quiet, aching sorrow. "But Mer, what about - "

"I know," Merin said, his voice cracking with emotion. "Believe me, I know. But this is bigger than us, bigger than any one person or any one love. We have to think of the realms, of all the innocent lives that hang in the balance."

He turned to Vale, his heart pounding and his mind racing with the sheer, desperate urgency of what needed to be done. "I need you, buddy. Need you to get us to that castle, fast as you can."

Vale snorted, his unicorn form shimmering with an otherworldly light. "You got it, boss. Hop on and hold tight. This is gonna be a bumpy fucking ride."

Merin locked eyes with Benjamin one last time, a wealth of words passing between them in that single, charged moment. "Hold the line," he said, his voice low and intense.

Benjamin nodded. "I won't, Mer. I swear it on my life. Now Go!" he shouted over the chaos, his voice strained with effort. "I'll clear the way, give you as much time as I can!"

"Adrian!" Merin called out, his eyes seeking the dragon shifter in the midst of the fray. "We need cover, need something to keep these bastards off our backs while we make a run for the castle!"

Adrian's head snapped up, his eyes flashing with a fierce, unbridled determination. "I'm on it," he growled, his body already beginning to shift and change, scales rippling across his skin like a living, breathing armor.

In a matter of seconds, he had transformed fully, his massive, icy form towering over the battlefield like a glacier, like a force of nature given flesh and form.

He reared back, his jaws parting to unleash a blast of frigid dragonfire that tore through the spirits like a scythe through wheat. The Dullahan reeled back, its headless form shuddering as the icy flames licked at its rotting flesh, as the cold seeped into its bones and turned its black ichor to sludge in its veins.

"Fucking hell," Merin heard Roman mutter, his voice filled with a mix of awe and incredulity. "Remind me never to piss off the big guy, yeah?"

Despite the gravity of the situation, despite the fear and the desperation that clawed at his gut, Merin couldn't help but crack a small, wry smile. "You and me both," he said, shaking his head in wonder. "Pretty sure I'd rather face down a whole army of these ghostly pricks than get on Adrian's bad side."

But even as the words left his lips, even as he let himself be buoyed by the momentary flicker of humor, of camaraderie in the face of certain doom…

The Dullahan struck back. Its mace whirled and spun, a blur of spiked metal and malevolent energy that slammed into Adrian's flank with a sickening crunch of scales and bone.

The dragon let out a roar of pain, of fury, his icy form shuddering as he struggled to stay upright, to keep the deadly rain of blows at bay. But even with Benjamin's magic bolstering him, even with the raw, primal power of his shifter nature coursing through his veins…

It wasn't enough. The Dullahan was too strong, too fast, too utterly, terrifyingly relentless in its pursuit of death and destruction.

"Fuck," Merin breathed, his heart pounding and his mind racing as he nocked another arrow to his bow, as he loosed bolt after bolt of arcane energy into the fray. "We have to move, Roman. Have to make a break for it now, while we still can."

His mate nodded, his bear form rippling with tension and coiled, barely-contained power. "I'm with you," he said, his voice a low, rumbling growl that made Merin's blood sing and his magic thrum with anticipation.

Together, they surged forward, Vale's lean, muscular form carrying them through the seething mass of spirits like an arrow loosed from a bow. Merin kept up a steady rain of arcane fire, his bow thrumming and his eyes blazing with a fierce, unwavering focus as he picked off the stragglers that managed to slip past Roman's whirling claws and snapping jaws.

And through it all, Vale's horn shone like a beacon, a pulsing, shimmering shield that turned aside the worst of the spirits' attacks, that gave them a fighting chance to push through, to reach the looming walls of the Unseelie castle that rose up before them like a promise, like a whispered prayer of hope and salvation.

"Almost there!" Merin shouted, his voice raw and ragged with exertion and adrenaline. "Just a little further, Vale. Give it everything you've got!"

The unicorn snorted, his flanks heaving and his eyes wild with the thrill of the chase, the rush of the fight. "You don't have to tell me twice, boss," he said, his voice filled with a fierce, reckless joy. "Hold on tight, boys. We're going in hot!"

With a final, mighty surge of power, Vale reared back, his horn flaring with an otherworldly light as he channeled every ounce of his magic, his very essence, into the shimmering shield that surrounded them.

They burst through the castle doors, the ancient, weathered wood splintering and shattering like kindling before the force of their charge.

Merin leaped from Vale's back, his bow already drawn and his eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of movement, of threat. Behind him, he heard Roman's heavy tread, the scrape of claws against stone as his mate shifted back into his human form, ready and willing to fight by his side.

"We have to seal the entrance," Merin said, his voice low and urgent as he glanced back at the gaping hole where the doors had once stood. "Buy ourselves some time, keep those spirit bastards from following us in."

Roman nodded, his eyes flashing with a grim, unyielding determination. "Leave that to me," he said, his voice a low, dangerous growl.

His mate was moving, his body a blur of speed and strength as he lunged towards the shattered doors. With a roar that shook the very foundations of the castle, Roman slammed his fists into the stone walls on either side of the entrance, his magic flaring and his muscles straining as he poured every ounce of his power, his very will, into the crumbling masonry.

And slowly, inexorably, the walls began to shift. To groan and shudder, the ancient stones grinding together as they moved, as they realigned themselves into a new configuration, a new shape.

A barrier. A wall of solid, unyielding rock that sealed off the entrance, that cut them off from the chaos and the carnage of the battle raging outside.

A scream echoed through the castle. A sound of such raw, agonized terror that it made Merin's blood run cold and his heart seize in his chest.

"Mira," he breathed, his eyes widening with a sudden, sickening realization. "Chrissy. They're here, Roman. They're in this fucking castle, and they're in trouble."

They tore through the castle like men possessed, their footsteps ringing against the cold stone floors and their hearts pounding with a desperate, frantic urgency. Merin could feel Riordan's magic growing stronger with every step they took, a towering, crushing presence that saturated the air like a malevolent fog.

"Top floor," he panted, his lungs burning and his legs aching as they pounded up the winding, endless stairs. "Whatever fucked up ritual he's planning, it's happening there. We have to hurry!"

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of climbing and running and praying to every god they knew, they reached the top floor. A massive set of double doors loomed before them, ornate and imposing, the dark wood thrumming with an energy that made Merin's skin crawl.

"This is it," he muttered, his hand tightening around his bow. "Whatever's behind those doors…it's not going to be pretty."

Roman nodded, his jaw clenching as he shifted back into his bear form, ready for whatever awaited them. "We can't waste any more time," he growled. "Stand back and brace yourself, Mer."

Before Merin could respond, Roman charged forward, his massive form slamming into the doors with the force of a battering ram. The ancient wood groaned and shuddered, then burst inward with a deafening crack.

They stumbled into the room, weapons drawn and magic at the ready. But the sight that greeted them made Merin's blood turn to ice in his veins.

In the center of an intricate pentagram, Mira and Chrissy knelt, their faces pale and streaked with tears. And looming over them, a twisted smile on his face and a gleaming athame in his hand, was Riordan.

"Ah, Merin and Roman," Riordan purred, his voice dripping with malice. "So nice of you to join us. You're just in time to witness the main event."

"Let them go, you sick fuck," Merin snarled, his bow trained on Riordan's heart. "It's over. Your little scheme ends here."

Riordan threw his head back and laughed, the sound cold and cruel. "Over? Oh, you are all mistaken. It's only just beginning."

With a flash of movement, Riordan brought the athame down, the razor-sharp blade slicing across Mira's shoulder. The phoenix screamed, her blood welling up and dripping onto the lines of the pentagram.

As the crimson droplets hit the stonework, the castle began to tremble. The floor quaked beneath their feet, dust and debris raining down from the ceiling.

"No!" Merin screamed, lunging forward. But it was too late. The ritual was complete, Mira's blood the final component in Riordan's twisted spell.

A crack appeared in the center of the pentagram, widening and spreading with each passing second. The air grew thick and heavy, saturated with a dark energy that made Merin's magic recoil in horror.

From the depths of that unnatural chasm, something began to rise. Something ancient and terrible, a being of pure shadow and malevolence.

The demon.

Merin felt his heart stop, his breath catching in his throat as he stared at the monstrosity taking form before them. Beside him, Roman let out a roar of rage and defiance, his bear form rippling with primal power.

But Riordan just smiled, his eyes gleaming with a sick, triumphant light. "You see?" he crowed, his voice rising above the chaos. "You're too late, little seer. Far, far too late. The realms will fall, and from the ashes, I will rise as king!"