Chapter 47

47

L iliana, Zuriel, and I were training when Drazen and Ruslan burst through the door, both half-dressed with crazed looks in their eyes. Zuriel halted his advance and spun to defend me before the bang of the door against the wall had ceased echoing around the room. He relaxed when he realized that our intruders were only Ruslan and Drazen. But the agitated energy that surrounded them nipped at my shoulders, especially as my mate rushed over and swept me into his arms. My twin swords clattered against the ground as I dropped them so as not to injure Ruslan. The ferocity with which he squeezed me stole my breath, like he couldn’t hold me close enough.

“What’s wrong? You’re scaring me,” I whimpered, my voice muffled by his strong chest. Through our bond, I sensed his terror and rage, mixing together in a deadly cocktail.

“The Night Fae approach our border,” he gritted out, fingers flexing at my backside.

Liliana sucked in a breath, a sharp and poignant contrast to the one that was lodged in my throat.

Kazimir dared attack my home?

Rage blossomed in my chest, banishing the knot of panic, and I welcomed the burning bloom, allowing it to fill me completely. The darkness inside me whipped through the crystal in time with the fire that surrounded it. I was more than ready to end Kazimir’s pathetic life and exact my vengeance.

It was time for me to show the continent who would rule them after the rivers ran ruby and the Night Fae surrendered to us.

“How far?” I asked, my voice threaded with steel.

“They’re in the foothills now. With their new magic, they could easily move into the Iron Realm at any time.” Ruslan released me, his smoky gray eyes holding me steady as a million unspoken words passed between us.

“Then we’d better dress for war,” I stated, squaring my shoulders and lifting my chin.

A wicked smirk spread across my mate’s face. “There’s my sprite.”

The five of us raced up to our apartments, Drazen and Ruslan shouting orders as we wove through the halls of Ryza Citadel. The buzz of activity was akin to that of a beehive, with anxious energy filling the air immediately. I threw up a mental shield, not wanting to absorb the emotion when I needed – wanted – to allow the blackness to swallow me whole and fuel the rage that would lead to my twin blades dripping blood.

As we reached the top of the spire that held our rooms, Liliana skidded to a stop. “What about Endre?” she asked, glancing from Drazen, to Ruslan, to Zuriel, and back. Already, she was braiding back her hair, readying to fight.

“Bring him with us,” Drazen said decisively. “Let him fight alongside us, and if he doesn’t, we’ll roast him alive.”

My brows arched at the vehemence in his words, but I said nothing. After all, these males screamed violence, and the tension building around us left no time for niceties. She dipped her chin once, then hurried down the hall, Zuriel hot on her heels.

“Where is your armor?” I asked the two Dragon Félvér.

There were no sentries at our door, and Ruslan pushed inside. “On the couch. I moved us here, thinking that’s where you’d be. We left it behind to find you.”

“We need to move quickly and plan our attack,” Drazen reminded me, hurriedly donning his armor.

Ruslan followed me into our bedroom, where the iron gray suit he’d gifted me was arranged neatly over a mannequin. I was already mostly dressed for battle, but the few plates that covered my shoulders and chest were difficult to put on by myself. Quickly, I strapped metal cuffs over my wrists and forearms, then slid on the lightweight, scaled metal armor over my legs and torso, the links bending and flexing with me. Finally, Ruslan fastened the thicker metal plates, still light enough for me to fly, but with more protection than what was underneath.

Ruslan handed me a pair of leather gloves, too. “It will be cold where we are going and I don’t want your hands to freeze when you need them the most.”

I ached for him, his thoughtfulness, his love. “Thank you,” I whispered, accepting them. Flexing my fingers, I prepared to pull them on, only for my attention to snag on the large ruby ring I still wore – the one Ruslan had gifted me as a replacement for the one he’d enchanted more than a year ago. I pulled on the right glove, slipping the ring onto a finger there, before securing the left and returning the ring to its rightful place. Let the Night Fae see it as a reminder of who my fucking mate was, should they decide to challenge me.

Fuck, so much had happened in the time since I’d left the cave, the prison of the first twenty-one years of my existence.

Dragging in a serrated breath, I walked to the mirror. A spark of shock swept through me as I beheld the warrior reflected back at me. Her long, chestnut hair was plaited tight against her scalp, the braids sitting on top and woven intricately down her back. The dark gray armor gleamed in the light, hugging her curves and rippling down her body as she shifted from side to side. In her aquamarine eyes, there was a fierceness that was breathtaking, made all the more so by the hint of anxiety that lingered.

But she – I – was so fucking strong, and I would not let my fear rule me. I wasn’t a victim, and I would never let anyone make me a victim again. If we lost this war, I’d ensure that I went down with a fight and took as many motherfuckers with me as I could.

The insidious bloom would reveal herself before the battle was over.

Ruslan stepped up behind me, his massive frame dwarfing mine as we locked eyes in the mirror. He too wore dark gray armor in a similar style to mine, though where roses were hammered into the finer parts of my armor, Dragons were hammered into his. Metal gloves covered his hands, and he ran them back through his dark hair, his eyes hungry as he perused my form.

“You are so fucking sexy, sprite. I can’t wait to slaughter the Night Fae with you.”

I grinned back at him. “So you’ll prove you’re worthy of marrying me?”

“When it’s all over, I’m going to fuck you covered in their blood. And then, you will marry me ,” he growled, then kissed the top of my head in a tender move that contrasted the violence in his tone. He wrapped his arms around me from behind, inhaling deeply as we stole one last moment together.

“I love you, Ruslan.”

“I love you, Izidora. Until my dying breath, and after.”

Voices drifted beneath the doors of our room, breaking our moment and forcing us to face what waited in the Agrenak Mountains. With a low groan, Ruslan unwrapped me, but he did not release my hand as we strode into our living space, where Liliana, Endre, Drazen, and Zuriel were all dressed for battle.

Endre had donned pieces of metal armor over his leathers, a symbol of his loyalty that wasn’t lost on me. His peridot eyes shone with a hardness that surprised me for the sensitive male, and he dipped his chin at me, acknowledging his future empress with deference.

Stepping forward, I looped my arm through my mate’s, and the others closed in around us, easing Ruslan’s magical burden. With a lurch, we landed in the war room at the barracks, where the officers were already arguing and soldiers raced in and out, requesting orders and rushing off to relay them.

The chaos ceased the moment their emperor arrived. Ruslan stood at his full height, his presence commanding obedience and loyalty in a way that made my core clench. He launched into battle plans, deciding that we had to attack first and control the field. The Night Fae could pop into existence beside us, and we needed to keep the fighting out of the Iron Realm.

Drazen, Artur, and the others agreed readily, and given they hadn’t seen the Dragons flying overhead, we had an element of surprise. The sun was dipping lower in the sky, and I chewed my lip as I glanced repeatedly out the window. If we were going to attack, we’d need to do it soon, before we slipped into darkness.

“The Night Fae’s magic is stronger at night, shouldn’t we wait until tomorrow?” I said, my voice wavering slightly.

“No. We need to attack now.” Ruslan’s tone was firm, and I narrowed my eyes at him.

“Trust me,” he spoke mind-to-mind.

Without missing a beat, he continued, “We’re vastly outnumbered, so we need to be smart.” His voice dripped with ferocity, and I returned my attention to the room, scanning the faces of every last person gathered around the war table. Each held a grimness that came with the seriousness of battle, and only a few allowed the hint of fear that tasted like a bitter potion to show on their faces.

Rares entered the room, breathless as he shuffled forward. “The Mages and others who possess the talent are ready to move you, My Emperor.”

“Good. Any last questions?” Ruslan braced his metal-covered hand on the table and leveled a serious look at each attendee.

“No, My Emperor,” they said in unison.

Ruslan waved a hand, dismissing the group.

Then he turned to me, a darkness shining in his eyes that made my blood sing and my own darkness rise to the surface. “We stay together out there.” In one step, he closed the distance between us, a haunted expression emerging. “I’ve trained you well. Zuriel has trained you well. Drazen has trained you well. But I would die without you, Izidora, and I need you by my side as we fight. The Night Fae have proven they have hidden tricks, and I don’t trust them for a moment not to pull some other shit. I’m not arrogant enough to think we will win this without a lot of bloodshed, given their numbers against ours.”

He cupped the back of my head, supporting it as I gazed up at him. “But we have secret weapons too,” I whispered around the knot in my throat. “You’ve prepared well for this.”

“We do,” he murmured, his thumb caressing my cheek. “Give me your strength, and I will give you mine.”

“Us against the world,” I said, hands crawling up his armor until I stood on tiptoes and yanked his head down.

The moment our lips locked, the world fell away, and he consumed me like a wildfire. The kiss was desperate, filled with love, lust, and longing, the ache down our bond insatiable as we faced what was surely our end. We’d been playing defense this whole war, and as my body trembled against my mate’s, I wasn’t sure if it was from desire or genuine fear that we might lose.

Breathless, we broke apart, staring deep into one another’s souls and accepting that the prophecy that predicted we would change the world was about to come to pass.

The foothills of the Agrenak Mountains provided cover for both our army and the Night Realm’s, unfortunately. Legion by legion, we moved across the border, re-entering what I had thought was my home, once upon a time. I chewed my lip as I surveyed the landscape, looking for each of my friends.

Zuriel and Ruslan were with me, leading an elite unit of Félvér, and at our back a massive white bear-like creature – a Fehérmedve – paced restlessly back and forth. My cousin went to the beast, threading a hand through his snow-white fur, and he calmed, gazing forward at the hill that barred us from view.

In the distance, Liliana, Drazen, and Endre directed foot soldiers toward what would be our front line.

Anton and Slavian were somewhere in the distance with more Félvér, and Xorrek and Gozzak, the two Demons whose blood had made such a difference in this war – and in my recovery. I couldn’t stress about all of my friends and family now, and as much as it pained me to do so, I locked my worry away in the far recesses of my mind.

Our army was scattered between the last sharp peak and the hills in front of us, preparing to circle and strike from every angle, splitting the Night Fae’s attention.

Kriath dove toward us in his massive Eagle form, shifting at the last moment and landing lightly on his feet in front of Ruslan and me. “All units are ready, My Emperor.”

“Good. Join Savich and the Telivér on the western flank,” Ruslan instructed.

Kriath brought his flattened palm to his forehead and offered Ruslan a sharp salute. His hands didn’t even tremble as he returned them to his side and called on his bird form again. With one last look at us, he soared away toward the far side of our army.

With a nod at Artur, Ruslan signaled the Dragons to shift and take to the skies. The giant red Dragon roared his fury as the shift tore through him, and he used the hilltop like a launchpad to spear into the air. The spikes on his tail smacked against the ground, sending dirt flying forward and toward the surprised Night Fae. Shouts rang out as more and more Dragons took to the sky, the dying sun glittering against their scales.

“Put up your mental shield now,” Ruslan reminded me.

Tapping into the white fire-wrapped crystal in my chest, I blocked out everyone around me, not wanting a repeat of the emotional pain I’d experienced when we popped into the middle of chaos the last time.

Across the battlefield, unit after unit crested the hills, Félvér archers taking aim and firing in rapid succession, covering the infantry as they charged forward. My best friend disappeared from view, and I tore my attention back to Ruslan, who watched on, ensuring everything unfolded according to plan. Zuriel hopped onto the Fehérmedve’s back, settling between his shoulders and fisting his fur. He leaned down as Ruslan yelled, “Charge!” and we raced forward as a unit.

My two swords were heavy as adrenaline blew through me, and every nerve was alight with anticipation.

On the other side of this hill, my destiny, or my death, awaited.

The revolting smell of burnt flesh hit me first, a line of charred Fae collapsed on the ground from where the Dragons had burned a path forward. But already, another line of soldiers waited to oppose us, undeterred by their brethren’s deaths.

The scream that tore from my chest promised violence as I engaged the first male to dare approach me. A haughty gleam brightened his eyes, and he barely flicked his sword at me, thinking he could so easily disarm me.

A manic smile spread across my lips, and I hoped it appeared as crazed as I felt. “That was your first mistake,” I laughed, and only then did something else flicker in his eyes.

With black flaring in my chest, I launched forward.

Our blades met in a clash of steel that reverberated up my arms and rang in my ears. Using both blades together, I flung his sword to the side, attempting to knock him off balance. He stumbled over a half-melted pommel, and I did not hesitate to bring my swords back around and slice him in the side with one while I stabbed the other into his belly. With a hefty kick, I ripped my blades free and flattened him on the ground. Using his chest like a stone, I leaped over him, on my way to my next opponent.

The first of many my blades would drink from.

Ruslan fought mercilessly mere feet away, blood spraying in all directions as he pushed forward, putting a dent into the fiercely held line. On my other side, Zuriel rode the Fehérmedve, whose growls were nearly as terrifying as those of the Dragons roaring overhead.

I sank into the rhythm of the battle, all fears and worries melting away as my only thoughts became slice, dodge, attack, parry, blast. No space for other thought remained, not when a horde of Night Fae waited for us, continuing to rise as their comrades were slain. We were outnumbered, and for every one of us they killed, we needed to kill three of them.

Gritting my teeth, I braced my blade against a large male’s, his mouth set in a firm line as he put his weight behind it. Sweat poured from my temples, and my arms trembled beneath his weight.

“You will not win,” I spat out, slipping to the side and allowing his weight to fall forward. My blade lingered in the open space and bit into his side.

The deep gash gushed blood, and he spun, holding his weeping wound with one hand, still brandishing his blade with the other. “You bitch. How dare you choose him over your own people. We loved you.” Faster than I anticipated, he lunged. A sharp pain blossomed on my upper arm, and I cried out, dropping a sword. Hot blood seeped from the slice, but I had no time to examine it as the male came forward again.

I flung my remaining blade up, causing his next strike to glance off it. The awkward impact sent me stumbling, and I tripped over a fallen soldier, my ass smacking the ground with a painful thud. Slightly disoriented, everything slowed to a crawl as he arced his blade toward my chest.

A rainshower of ruby scattered across my face, the male’s torso flayed open. He crumpled to the side, revealing Zuriel and the Fehérmedve, his claws dripping blood and gore. My cousin leaped from the beast’s back and rushed to my side. “Are you hurt?”

“My shoulder,” I managed to say through clenched teeth as I sat upright.

The Félvér in our unit raced around us, providing us with much needed cover.

Zuriel crouched on the grassy hillside, examining the wound. White light flared beneath his palms, and the throbbing in my shoulder abated. Ruslan’s raspy voice rang out over the din of battle, giving orders to hold the line while he raced to my side.

“I’m okay,” I reassured him before he’d even reached us.

“Thank fuck,” he swore, checking me over anyway. “Stay closer.” His tone left no room for argument as he hauled me to my feet.

“Thank you, Zuriel,” I said, and the Angel nodded, racing to his steed to return to the fray.

We ate up ground on our next push, claiming another hillside and closing in on the encampment. Ruslan and I stood at the top of it, trying to catch our breath and survey the area. His eyesight was better than mine, so it was no surprise when he found our target first.

“He’s there,” Ruslan confirmed, pointing toward the back of the army.

I followed his line of sight, finally spotting an ornate tent erected among a series of interconnected ones. A flash of dark hair caught my attention first, the tent flaps flying as Kazimir entered the dusky air. The light was quickly fading, and fires – not started by the Iron Realm – popped up throughout the camp.

“It’s like they don’t even care that we can see where everyone is, even in the dark,” I murmured, chewing my lip as a wrongness slithered through my belly.

A horn sounded in the distance, drawing my attention toward Kazimir once again. He blew the carved instrument repeatedly, and thousands of wings burst into existence as the rear guard prepared to launch their assault. The sound as they erupted into the air was akin to an explosion, and a shockwave from their wings swept across the battlefield. Bows gripped in hands, they notched dripping arrows and drew the string, preparing to fire.

“Archers!” I screamed, trying to warn my people of the incoming danger.

Dragons dove toward the advancing fliers, picking off a few before the Night Fae aimed and littered a purple Dragon with arrows. She careened to the ground, flailing her one good wing toward the encampment so as not to land on her own people. Even knowing she would not survive, she tried to help in whatever way she could.

A wave of gratitude and sadness swept through me as she collided with the ground, skidded, and then released her final breath and returned to her Fae form.

Thinking better of an attack with claws, the Dragons flew higher, trying to stay out of range while blasting the Fae below them with a rainbow of fire. As the battle in the sky raged on, more and more Night Fae joined it, leaving the ground to aid their brethren above.

And then the sun slipped below the horizon.

Blasts of silvery magic soon filled the sky, sending Iron Fae and Félvér scattering in every direction, only to be shot with an arrow a moment later.

“Their magic is stronger now that night has fallen,” I said, gripping Ruslan’s arm as a flicker of fear dimmed the white fire burning in my chest.

With predatory slowness, he turned his head and revealed the sinister smirk spreading over his face. “We need to retreat.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but his low laugh cut me off. “We all know their magic is stronger now. By retreating, they will follow us into the mountains where we have the advantage.”

“You planned this all along, didn’t you?” I replied, wiping my brow and likely smearing blood in the process.

“I told you to trust me,” he purred, reaching out and brushing a sweaty tendril of hair away from my face. “I needed our soldiers to believe that this was the place where we’d make our stand, to make a dent in the army. Now that we have, we need to entice them to follow us.”

My brilliant mate.

“Then what are we waiting for?” I grinned, giddiness rushing through my veins alongside a new wave of adrenaline.

Ruslan winked, then shouted orders to retreat. Zuriel relayed them to Drazen and the Demons telepathically, and the message passed quickly across the battlefield.

The Night Realm’s archers dropped from the skies, watching us race into the narrow, rocky paths that led toward the Iron Realm’s border in the mountains. A cheer rose through their army as they were told to stand down, and when Ruslan took my hand, I allowed him to move us ahead of the others and into Zherzha Pass, where I’d started to fall in love with him.