Chapter Twenty-nine

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

ATLAS

A s darkness began to fall, Atlas kept close to Morgan. Her plan was as dangerous as it was brilliant. Though Petre wanted them to wait until morning, when the vines fell dormant, Atlas didn't want the vegetation anywhere near Morgan when it woke hungry.

Everyone gathered behind them, armed with stone spears and torches, their hope almost painful. More than a few wore a determined expression, like this was their last chance. If they didn't make it, they would die trying.

Morgan took a deep breath, her beautiful hair curling wildly around her as she called her magic, and her soul just lit up like a beacon. The bow of the gods appeared in her hands, and when she pulled back on the drawstring, a smoky black arrow formed. Then her eyes narrowed in concentration until the tip began to glow with hellfire.

Morgan used the fluorescent goo to create a special rune that would target and burn the parasite only.

She shot Atlas and Caedmon a wink. "Ready?"

Caedmon was armed with two massive swords, his only job to guard Morgan. The man was pissed that Morgan was smack dab in the center of danger yet again. Atlas and the others had warned him what to expect, but the elf thought he could challenge fate and keep their mate in a protective cocoon, sheltered from the outside world.

The poor man was just beginning to realize that Morgan was a lodestone—her actions were what shaped the future. Through her courage and will alone, she was carving out a better future for the supernatural race.

They couldn't stop fate.

All they could do was protect her as best they could and love her with all their might.

It had to be enough.

"Ready." He drank down the sight of her as she lifted her bow and released the first arrow into the forest. She shot off four more when he called up his own magic, and the forest came alive. Three dryads stood at his side, doing the same.

It was time that they took back what was theirs.

A high-pitched shriek pierced the air as the vines caught fire, and he ruthlessly ignored the way the sound scraped along his nerve endings. The vines began to writhe and squirm as they burned, lashing through the air as if searching for a way to ease the pain. One vine wrapped around a nearby tree, tore it from the ground with a loud ripping sound as the roots snapped and broke, then began beating at the flames.

One of the dryads sobbed at the death of the tree. Atlas didn't feel it nearly as strongly, more like someone had just yanked out a patch of hair by the roots.

It stung like a bitch.

Then he pushed the pain away, knelt, and stuck his hands into the soil. Trees and branches shuddered at the rush of power, and he closed his eyes to focus. He forced the branches together, weaving them into a canopy, starting from the ground and arching it over their heads. It was slow at first, the effort making him grit his teeth, the magic dragging on his insides like his flesh was being stripped from his bones.

The trees gradually woke to his magic, thanks to the prodding of the dryads. When the forest figured out what they were trying to do, the woods joined their efforts, and the ground underneath them rumbled under the strain.

When it felt like his soul was tearing free from him, he felt Morgan's hand on his shoulder…and nearly choked when her magic began to funnel through him.

It was beautiful.

Like a reflection of her soul and it stole his breath.

By the gods, he'd known she was powerful, but he didn't think any of the others had any clue about the vast amount of power she could access. It was like she could connect directly to the void.

No wonder the elves were so intent on getting their hands on her.

Atlas was more determined than ever that no one would lay a finger on her, not while he lived.

M organ's heart stuttered when she felt Atlas fade from her mind. Without even a command, magic burst from her, tearing through time and space until she was standing behind him without even moving. She placed a hand on his shoulder, determined to hold her to him, shuddering when she realized that she'd nearly been too late.

The magic searched every inch of him for injury and healed him. Only when she was satisfied he was healthy and whole did she pull back. Knowing they didn't have much time, Morgan took a deep breath. It was now or never. "Everyone head out!"

The villagers charged forward with a roar, hacking at any vines that tried to tear apart the passage Atlas had created. They moved faster than she'd expected, working well with each other, helping everyone to keep moving.

When Atlas lurched clumsily to his feet to follow, she steadied him. To her surprise, Caedmon grabbed Atlas's arm and slipped it over his shoulder. "Go. I have him. "

They were near the last to leave, only a few of the vampires remaining to cover their retreat.

A couple of people tripped over a vine, then screamed when it quickly latched around their leg and pulled them through the wall, shredding flesh as it did. Only a few were fast enough to cut their friends free before they were taken.

It seemed to take forever, the vines battering at the canopy. Branches shuddered under the force, twigs and leaves raining down on them. When they ran out the end of the tunnel, Morgan turned and called for one of her blades, waiting until Caedmon and Atlas were free.

Then, without hesitation, she sliced her palm down to the bone and began to trace a sigil in the air with her blood, ghostly shapes of the runes taking form.

Vines began to streak down the tunnel, desperately searching for prey. More and more punched through the barrier of the trees. When the last of the vampires cleared the path, Morgan lifted her bloody hand and slammed her palm against the smoky sigil.

A spark raced along the lines until the whole thing caught fire and flared bright. A blast of power shot out in a whoosh, and Morgan found herself flung backwards. Arms caught her, but her momentum was too much, and they all fell to the ground in a tangle of arms and legs. Morgan wasn't surprised when she found Atlas and Caedmon surrounding her.

Flickering light in the distance caught her attention.

She turned and saw everyone frozen, staring at the forest.

Because it was on fucking fire!

The dark flames licked hundreds of feet in the air, going on for miles and miles in each direction as it spread. The majesty of it filled her with awe.

The forest itself remained untouched, but the vines curled up as they crackled and turned to ash.

"The wrath of the gods." Petre stood next to her, his eyes wide as he stared down at her in shock, and a touch of fear. "It's said that when a sin is committed against the gods, they breathe fire down on the world to cleanse it. "

Morgan huddled against Caedmon, too exhausted to explain anything.

Words weren't necessary when the villagers turned away from the fire one by one and knelt before her, their heads bowed low. Tears spilled down Petre's face as he gazed at her. "If you ever need anything, you only have to ask. This is a debt that I can never repay."

The rest of the people nodded, giving the same vow.

After a few minutes, they rose and stepped into the darkness, vanishing from one moment to the next, until only the vampires remained. "But what about the infection?"

Petre pulled up his leg to show the infection had already started to retreat. The pustule had been lanced, the angry green lines fading before her eyes. "I suspect the last of it will be gone by morning."

Moving as one, nearly a hundred vampires bowed to her, then turned on their heel and disappeared in a blur of speed that made them look like a shadow passing over the land.

Leaving her alone with her mates.

"We need to get moving before it gets dark." Caedmon pushed himself to his feet, gazing down at her curled up in Atlas's arms.

Morgan frowned up at him. "Okay, you guys keep saying that. Why are you so afraid of the dark?"

His eyebrows shot up, and he glanced back at Atlas in surprise, muttering to himself. "Of course no one would've told you."

"Told me what?" Morgan reluctantly pushed herself upright, glancing around them suspiciously, wondering what would come after them next. She traced the silver and black mating marks on her arms, unconsciously seeking comfort. They warmed under her touch, and if she closed her eyes, she'd almost swear the others were near.

Caedmon crouched in front of her, speaking softly. "The Wild Hunt rides at night throughout Faerie."

"Oh, that." Morgan waved him off and snuggled back against Atlas. "Ambrose and his men are great. Breanna would be pissed if her mate tried to harm me." When the guys continued to gawk at her, she scanned each of them and breathed a sigh of relief. "Besides, none of us are marked. They won't come for us."

Caedmon deflated a little, scooping her up in his arms, and began walking. Morgan snuggled against his chest, too tired to protest. Atlas walked next to them, looking almost good as new, and the tension in her shoulders melted away. She flashed a smile at her mates. "I know a quaint little stone cottage in the woods that will be empty—the perfect place to rest for the night."

"You would want to go back into a forest that is literally on fire?" Atlas gazed down at her in concern, his umber eyes glinting red in the night.

"When you phrase it that way, it makes me sound?—"

"Tired." Caedmon leaned down and kissed her forehead. "Sleep. I will carry you."

She should've protested.

No matter how strong, there was no way he could hold her weight all night…then his yellow eyes flashed, and she allowed her eyes to close, knowing his beast could handle whatever came. "M'kay."

When the rocking movements stopped, Morgan woke groggy and disoriented. They'd only been walking about an hour. She perked up at the sound of rushing water, then frowned when the chirping of an animal in distress reached her ears. She twisted and saw a young hippogriff mired in mud along the river, as if she'd been trying to get a drink and became stuck.

Morgan was awed by the majestic creature. The hippogriff should've looked awkward and ungainly—she had the legs, wings, and head of a giant eagle, while the body, hind legs, and tail of a horse—but Morgan had never seen anything so beautiful.

"Put me down." Morgan shoved at Caedmon's chest, her heart aching at the creature's distress. When his arms tightened around her, she glanced up at him in confusion. "What's wrong? "

"We need to reach the castle before they close the gates. The guards will be patrolling soon, and we can't be caught outside the walls." Caedmon tightened his hold and began heading toward the bridge in the distance.

The hippogriff gave a warbling chirp, too tired and exhausted to fight any longer, and Morgan just couldn't leave the beast. It had nothing to do with the trial…it was just the right thing to do. She placed her hand on Caedmon's chest.

He instantly stopped, like her hand had the power to keep him in place. He gave a defeated sighed, his shoulders drooping, and he gently lowered her to the ground without saying a word.

She leaned up and brushed her lips over his cheek. "Thank you."

Atlas stood with his arms crossed, his legs splayed, shaking his head at the other man, an amused twinkle in his eyes.

Caedmon rolled his eyes, his expression all grumbly. "Don't even pretend that you would've been able to resist her."

Atlas just arched a brow. "Touché."

When the three of them approached the massive beast, the muddy creature tried to rear back, frantic to escape.

And failed.

The action exhausted the creature, her hide twitching with anxiety. Morgan hummed softly, and the hippogriff stilled, cocking her head to the side as she listened. Atlas grabbed the back of his shirt by the collar and dragged it over his head. He approached from the side, sneaking up in the blind spot, grimacing when he sank into the muck up to his knees with each step. When close enough, he slipped the shirt over the beast's head.

The creature tried to buck and toss her head but quickly ran out of steam. Her tail flicked in agitation, splattering Atlas with mud each time. Atlas shot her a look that promised retribution, and Morgan couldn't resist giving him a cheeky grin. He flashed his fangs at her playfully, then tore his eyes away and secured the sleeves around the beast's head.

He ran a hand down the creature's feathery chest, and the hippogriff chirped then leaned into his touch, rubbing against him affectionately.

Morgan sighed at the adorable sight, but it was the reverent look on his face that made stopping worth all the trouble.

"While Faerie might be deadly, there is magic to this place that can't be found anywhere else," Caedmon murmured, pulling her back against his chest.

Morgan leaned against him, taking comfort from his nearness, then saw Atlas glance at the beast's hindquarters and frown. "She's been injured, probably driven to the river and got stuck."

Caedmon tightened his grip on her, and they both turned to scan the tree line in the distance. "What kind of injury?"

"Claw marks the size of my hand," Atlas responded, doing his best to keep the hippogriff calm.

"We need to get her out of the mud. She's a sitting duck." Morgan nudged Caedmon, waiting until she had his attention. "Give me a sword…one you don't care if you lose."

He didn't hesitate, reaching behind him and drawing a blade out of midair.

She really needed to learn that damn trick!

Grabbing the weapon, she called up her magic until the metal moved into the shape of a harness, tiny links keeping it flexible. When she walked toward the river bank, Atlas held up his hand to hold her off.

"Don't." Atlas grimaced as mud sloughed off him. "Toss it to me. I don't want you caught in this muck."

As much as it pained her, Morgan did as instructed, watching him hook the straps around the hippogriff's legs and shoulders. The creature stood obediently. Atlas had just pulled himself free of the mud when a roar sounded from behind them.

Morgan whirled in time to see a zheng lope out of the trees at the sight of his prey being taken from his grasp. She gawked at the large cat-like creature. He looked like a prehistoric cheetah…if it weren't for the curved horn on the top of his head and the five fluffy tails that swooshed almost hypnotically behind him. Th ough massive, his body was sleek and deadly—the perfect predator.

And it was pissed.

Caedmon pushed her toward Atlas. "Get them out of the mud. I'll deal with the cat."

Before she even had a chance to protest, his loup garou burst from him and roared at the zheng in challenge.

Fuck!

The sooner they could get the hippogriff free, the sooner they could get the hell out of dodge.