57. Rhyland

Rhyland

57

W e found the horses huddled together in the woods—they hadn't gone far.

I jump onto Storm, gripping the reins tight enough to make it clear we're done fucking around. It's time to move. I cast a look back at the crew. They're mounting up fast, their faces giving away a silent understanding. We're hauling ass back to the Sun Courtand sticking around forDanithere.

We've overstayed our welcome in this shitshow ofWhispering Woodsand creepy fog.

Our horses don't need coaxing. Their instincts scream, 'Get the hell out,' and we're in tune with that plan. The map and meticulously prepped gear? Torched, thanks to my uncontrollable blaze of fury. It's my ass on the line in front ofthe Light Kingfor scorching his prized possession.

The goddamn fog clings to us—whispers nagging at the edges of my mind, trying to get in. I throw up a mental fortress; thoughts ofDanibecome my ramparts and shields against the onslaught.

Lucianpulls up next to me, and I can see his usual bullshit confidence has taken a nosedive. He's all somber and shit—like he knows he messed up big time. "Look,Rhy... I fucked up, okay? Whatever you're gonna throw at me, do it. I'll take the fall," he says, bracing for whatever hell I decide to dish out.

"What did you do, Lucian?" Erik asks from my left.

"I..." He hesitates, and even through my seething, I notice the gravity of his confession. "I gaveDanimy blood."

Erikis just staring, trying to piece together the shitstorm about to rain down on us.

"Fucking hell," isErik's only response. Two quiet words, but they speak volumes.

My hand drags down my face as I try to contain the monster inside me, roaring for blood—Lucian's specifically. This brother of mine could have just messed things up royally. No one should mess around with the sacred bond we share with our mates. Now,Lucian's bound to feel everything she goes through—from her darkest depths of despair to her peaks of joy, it will slice through him.

"What do you want me to say,Lucian?" I growl, forcing myself to shove all thoughts ofDani's body tied toLucian's to the depths of hell from where they came.

His face is all desperation and dumbassery mixed into one as he speaks. "I couldn't just stand there and watch her die,Rhy. I'm sorry, man—I shouted for you, I did. But fuck, lettingDanislip away wasn't an option! I had to act."Lucian's turmoil is clear, and a part of me understands the reasoning, even as another part wants to rip into him.

I nod tightly. "I know, little brother. I know," I reply, trying to keep my voice level over the damn cacophony of beastly rage in my head.

The ride through the night feels like the pre-show to a storm that's been brewing for ages.Axilya's getting twitchy—something about the woods being edgy tonight—andFaderyn's got his 'I sense a disturbance in the force' look going on. He thinks we're strutting into a trap. Hell, I've been feeling that for miles now.

"Feel that?"Axilya's voice is low, a whisper barely carrying over the rustling leaves.

Then the thunder rumbles, way off but closing in, the kind of sound that promises it ain't bringing anything but danger—an omen.

Erik's getting his usual 'time to whoop ass' vibe, "Stay sharp," he barks out.

The air turns ice fucking cold—like a wave of bad blood just curdled the night air around us. I don't need to see jack shit to know who's out there; we sure as hell aren't alone anymore.

"Adrian," I bark into the thickness, trying not to betray the shitstorm brewing inside me.

The silence that meets me is a little too pointed, and then out strolls the traitor himself. There's a war going on in his eyes, but he stands there, stoic as hell.

"I'm sorry, brother," he spits out, and that's my cue; Azrael, the bastard, materializes out of nowhere.

The forest mood shifts, and it feels like everything is holding its breath.

With his trademark infuriating arrogance, Azrael begins to spew his verbal diarrhea. "Oh,Rhyland, isn't it just tragic how far this pitiful little realm has fallen in such a short span? It's almost enough to bring a tear to my eye," he sneers, his voice dripping with sarcasm and disdain.

I clench my fists, refusing to rise to his bait. "If by 'short span' you mean the four shitty weeks since you last fucked things up, then yeah, things were fine before your ugly mug decided to show up again," I snarl, showing a little fang for effect.

His warped, grating laughter scrapes against my nerves like razor blades on a blackboard. "Oh, I suppose—more like an agonizing four years, give or take," he muses, his tone laced with perverse amusement.

I don't give a damn what he's on about with time—I know time flows differently here.

"Now, where oh where could our dear, sweet doctor have scampered off to? Her presence is so urgently needed," he wonders aloud, his eyes sweeping the area with exaggerated movements. A contemptuous sneer curls his lips as he searches, his every gesture a biting mockery.

I'm on a knife-edge, my beast ready to rip right out of my skin and dance on his grave. "She's out of your reach, Azrael. So fuck off."

Azrael's voice oozes venom as he mocks me mercilessly. "What's the matter,Rhyland? Did you fuck up keeping your mate under your wing—some guardian you turned out to be," he spits, his eyes glittering with malice. "So, where's our darling little songbird flown off to now, hmm? Surely you've got her tucked away somewhere safe and sound, right?"

I'm fighting to stay on top of the anger I'm about to unleash, the fury threatening to consume me whole. "Not now, asshole—" is all I manage to grunt before the shadows yank me from Storm's back, slamming me to the ground with all the grace of a wrecking ball. The impact knocks the wind from my lungs, leaving me gasping for air as I struggle to regain my footing.

Shadows and ghostly figures swarm us, their ethereal forms dodging our blows and laughing at our attempts to bust through their ranks. It's like trying to fight smoke: Our fists and weapons pass harmlessly through their insubstantial bodies, meeting nothing but empty air.

We're punching shadows, our efforts futile and ineffective, whileLucian's andErik's desperate swings go right through them, their blades slicing through the murky darkness without finding purchase.AxilyaandFaderynare in the same predicament, subdued by the relentless onslaught of the shadow horde. The damn shadows absorb everything we throw at them like a black hole, leaving us drained and powerless.

Then, as if to add insult to injury, I'm met with chains—no matter how much power I summon, how much strength I pour into my struggles, these chains are like the ones I faced with Amara—goddamn fae-cursed, sapping everything I have, leaving me weak and helpless.

Out of nowhere, a horde of these shadow pricks wrenches me to Azrael. Their ghostly hands hold me fast, their grip like iron despite their insubstantial forms. Suddenly, my face becomes intimate with the dirt, the grit and rocks scraping against my skin as they force me to the ground.

Azrael's boot collides with my jaw in a nauseating, bone-shattering crunch, an explosion of white-hot agony radiating through my face as he viciously grinds his heel into my battered flesh. "Know your place, you miserable, crawling maggot," he snarls, his voice as frigid and unforgiving as the icy kiss of a steel blade pressed against my vertebrae, its razor-sharp edge slicing through the fabric of my clothing to bite hungrily into my skin.

Adriansteps forward, carrying that smug 'I-got-secrets' look. My pulse hammers a warning, andAdrian's gaze is full of shit I don't want to see—like apologies, he doesn't mean that feels like a slap.

Azrael, the sadistic puppet master orchestrating this hellish circus, delivers the coup de grace with a twisted flourish. "I must extend my gratitude, dear Viking, for so graciously providing the perfect bait. Your preciousDaniwill come sprinting straight into my waiting embrace like a moth to a flame," he purrs, his voice dripping with perverse anticipation. "And oh, the delightful surprises I have in store for her when she arrives."

I sneer at Azrael, my lip curling in defiance even as the shadows hold me fast. "The hell you playing at?" I spit, glaring up at him as he leans over me, all cocky and self-assured, the shadows he's whipped up swirling around him like a living cloak.

"There's someone positively writhing in anticipation of being reunited with you," Azrael hisses, his eyes smoldering with pure, unadulterated malevolence. A vicious, warped smile contorts his features into a nightmarish visage of sadistic glee.

I can barely follow his gloating as the shadows yank me through the abyss, their icy tendrils wrapping around me like a vice, dragging me into the heart of darkness. Zipping through the shadows is a goddamn gut-twister—my stomach churning, the pitch-black void pressing in on me from all sides, an aroma of sulfur thick enough to taste coating the back of my throat.

We slam to a halt, and I'm dumped unceremoniously on the ground. My body hits the unforgiving stone with a bone-jarring thud. I hurl up nothing but blood, the coppery taste mingling with the lingering sulfuric stench, courtesy of that hellish ride we just blasted through.

His shadows yank me up like they're Azrael's own damn hands, their grip bruising, and I find myself staring at a nightmare I never wanted a replay of. Amara's perched on her throne, her eyes cold as the ice queen she is, and she loves every moment of my humiliation, drinking in my pain like it's the finest vintage.

Azrael struts his victory, convinced thatDaniis coming for me and that he has the perfect bait to lure her into his trap.

Amara throws me a frosty look, and her voice drips with mock warmth, a sickly sweet poison that coats every word. "My pet, what a treat it is to have you back. You're like a walking, talking riot wherever you go." Her words slice through the chilly air as she lords over me from that nightmare of a throne that seems carved out of terror, a monument to her cruelty.

"Yeah, a real fucking pleasure to see you too," I sneer back at Amara, my words dripping with sarcasm.

Azrael barks out an arrogant laugh."Oh, he's the ideal little maggot to dangle on the end of our line," he remarks with a smug, self-satisfied smirk. Laying it all out there, no bullshit. "Our dear, heroic savior won't be able to resist rushing to his rescue. And when she takes the bait, we'll be primed and ready to spring the trap."

Amara gives me a look that could freeze hell over, her eyes boring into mine with a malevolent intensity that sends a shiver down my spine. "Oh, pet. Such secrets. Have you forgotten all about my lovely lessons?"