4. Veyka

I spent the afternoon sweating. But that ice inside of me did not thaw, no matter how many times I moved in and out of the void, pushing my power to its limits. Perhaps ice was better than fire. It kept the horror of the feelings at bay.

Through the void I went. Along the edge of the lake, ten feet, fifteen feet, another ten. My feet landed on grass and dirt and sand, but my eyes always went right to the center of that lake, to the mist-shrouded isle. I arrived in that cursed clearing where no one could heal. I did not let myself think about what would have happened if Avalon had stolen all of our magic, not just our healing ability. Even after two weeks, my sharp fae senses could detect the blood that had disappeared into the grass.

The scent of Arran's blood on the shore nearly undid me.

This was not the blood I'd licked from his lips, tasted on my tongue. I did not shiver with delicious need. The blood that had disappeared into the sand and pebbles was fetid, old. It spoke of death.

I fell to my knees.

He's alive. He's alive. He's alive.

I repeated it like a prayer. I let my focus go inward, checking that the bond was intact.

He's alive.

The cold lake air filled my nostrils. Brine and waterweeds and… blood. But not Arran's blood.

Slowly, I staggered to my feet. Willed my muscles to move, my nose to inhale deeply again. It was nearly impossible to sort out after all of these weeks… but there. I found it. Thin, mellow, a mere footnote in the cacophony of scents. Human blood.

I took one step into the clearing. Sniffed again. A few more. Then I was jogging. But that was too slow. I stepped through the void again, appearing at the edge of the clearing, pausing only long enough to inhale deeply, mark the scent, and disappear once more.

Humans moved slowly, but they'd had weeks. I had the power of the void.

They were not even trying to hide themselves, arrogant fools. The scent of human blood ebbed away as the miles stretched. I found no decaying bodies. Their wounds must have healed.

I paused beside a massive tree, its branches wickedly curved. A beautiful, ancient sentinel standing guard over the creatures of the forested mountain foothills. And a human man had pissed on it.

The green sludge in my stomach threatened to make another appearance at the intensity of the scent. The whole lot of them had used this area as a latrine. Not just humans… I realized as I pressed the back of my hand to my mouth. Fae as well. That is probably why the humans were still alive at all.

I resisted the urge to jump away through the void, following the scent through the trees, knowing I was getting closer and afraid of moving too far.

But walking was slow. Walking over the frosty debris on the forest floor was even slower. No one had ever taught me to track. I was relying on all the fae abilities in my veins. It would be enough. That, and the cold rage inside of me, would be enough to find them.

I carefully maneuvered over a stream, extending my legs as far as they would reach. It took all of the muscles in my core to keep my balance and not go pitching forward into the icy water. The humans and their fae companions had not been so careful. They'd trudged through the stream, leaving deep tracks in the thick mud. I hardly needed to, but by now it was habit. I lifted my face and inhaled deeply—just as the wind shifted.

And my heart stopped.

One hand went to my ear, checking the amorite studs that lined it. Not that I was in any danger of possession, being female. They were a comfort nonetheless. But it was the blade I drew from my waist that would save me. In the filtered light of the pine forest, turned silver by cold and frost, I could just see the swirls of amorite blended into the metal blade itself.

The only thing that could slay a human taken by the darkness—the succubus—was an amorite blade. Fire could hold them back, but they'd rise again eventually. We'd learned that in the jungle clearing before Isolde had rescued us from the horde of death.

I moved in silence. I had no idea if they could smell or how they sought their prey. They'd managed to clamber through the thick vines and trees of the jungle, so they must have some sentience. But did they hunt? Were they searching for the same thing as I was?

Every instinct in my body screamed in unison—run.

I had spent twenty years learning to survive, honing my body into a weapon to ensure that no matter who or what attacked me, I would be able to face them. Now, I had my power as well. I could step though the void and escape them.

But the time to run had past.

I forced my legs to move forward, the muscles of my powerful thighs to keep me going in a steady, silent rhythm. Closer. Closer. Until the scent of that black bile filled my nose and the cold began to permeate my bones.

I was close. It had to be just behind the next tree, so close I started scanning. The trees above my head, the branches—I imagined I'd find a black demon of death, squatting above my head. But there was nothing. No unwieldly clambering through the frosty forest. Just cold and that awful, awful scent of death and decay.

My gaze traveled down, below my direct line of sight—

Every muscle froze. My fingers did not tremble, my heart did not beat. But I was too late. It had seen me or heard me or scented me.

At the base of another massive pine tree, the dark-shrouded form rose. Pushing itself up from the ground, a jagged bone poking out of one of the elbows, it turned those unseeing black eyes to me. The mangled jaw fell open in what might have once been a smile. But noxious black bile poured from its mouth as it hauled itself up. Tried to—and failed.

My eyes began to sort out what I was seeing. The legs were not just mangled—they were gone entirely. Only the upper torso of the fae male remained.

Fae.

But that did not slow it.

It began clawing its way across the ground, an unearthly strength lining those desiccated muscles that should have been unable to move. Whatever senses remained honed in upon me. That gaping black maw would tear me wide open, feasting on my flesh until there was nothing left to heal, nothing for my companions to find.

I did not have to think. A few yards of frozen pine needles separated me from the monster. I made use of every inch, digging in my heels and launching myself forward. I came down on top of it, the lines of the wolf carved into the pommel of my dagger digging into my palm. My wolf was with me as I slammed the knife into the creature's neck, the tip lodging in the dirt below.

The succubus stopped moving immediately, but I did not. I pressed all my weight into my knee, pinned in its back, and sawed my dagger side to side. I did not flinch at the crunch of bone or the crackle of frozen pine needles as the succubus' head rolled off of the remnants of its body.

I dragged in a breath, nearly gagging at the reek.

There was no trace of fae scent left on him. There wasn't much left of him at all. The pointed fae ears were the only way I knew.

It wasn't a fae I'd killed. It was a succubus. Not him—her. All the succubus were female.

It was time to start calling them what they were. No more nightwalkers, no more talk of possessions or being taken by the darkness. I'd killed a succubus. I suspected I would kill many more before this was all over.

I recognized the remnants of clothing beneath the black poison. One of the fae warriors who'd fought at Gorlois' command. All of them had worn amorite pendants in the clearing. It was supposed to protect from this…

Even as new fear and alarm lit in my gut, I kicked over the remains, toeing around with my boot. There was no amorite pendant, no earring, anywhere to be seen. Maybe the amorite pendants had not been about the succubus at all. Gorlois had certainly known about the effects of the cursed clearing, the way it prevented healing and preyed on the mind. Maybe that was all he had known. And when the warriors retreated, when this one stupidly removed the amorite…

The shiver that snaked down my spine had nothing to do with the ice encasing my heart or the descending cold of late afternoon.

Taliya had spoken true. The succubus could overtake the mind of a fae.

If they had come to the human realm, they would come to Annwyn. I might be afraid to jump between realms, but the succubus was not. They had come for the human messenger sent from Eldermist, held in the bowels of the goldstone palace all those months ago. Now they would come for my kingdom as well.

Above my head, a lone brown leaf from one of the few deciduous trees in the forest shook loose. I watched it fall, drifting side to side, but ever down, until it came to rest on the bed of evergreen needles.

The true horror of what I faced, what Annwyn faced, came down upon me as surely as the downward path of that leaf.

We would not be battling succubus in human bodies, terrible but distinct, distant, without fae strength and magic. It would not be strangers from a different realm who faced us on the battlefield. It would be our sons, our fathers and grandfathers, uncles and cousins. The males we'd once called friends and family who would attack us while we slept. While our children played.

Children—Evander, the horrible Goldstone Guard I'd dispatched all those months ago to see to the children's disappearances near the Split Sea… what chance was there that those were not related to the succubus as well? But if Parys and Guinevere knew, if they'd heard from Evander, made progress… I had no way to know. Because I was in another realm. On the other side of the continent. With a mate hovering near death who I wasn't even able to fucking see.

I shivered again.

It was a reminder—ice. Cold and hard. That was the only way for me to survive being crushed by the weight of it all. I could not buckle. Not now—not when I was on my own.

I dragged in another breath and instantly regretted it. Still, my stomach had the audacity to rumble, reminding me that I'd been out all day with nothing but stale travel cakes and mushy green stew as sustenance.

I would kill a dozen succubus if it got me a chocolate croissant.

Carefully modulating my breath, I surveyed the trees around me, the barren ground, the pockets of gray sky visible overhead. The sun was well past its zenith, and my steps though the void had taken me miles from the lakeside camp.

I did not have time to wait and see if the succubus would rise again if I did not burn it. I missed the absence of Lyrena and Cyara's flames as I gathered tinder and kindling, and then left what remained of the succubus to burn.