Chapter 40

Thorne

As the monsters fled, Kaelan’s murderous gaze—and swift-moving intent—was focused solely on me. He cut through them, moving steadily toward me.

Seraphine was enchanting desperately, trying to recall the fleeing monsters back to her side. But they were gone.

Her hateful gaze flashed to mine. I would’ve enjoyed the defeat written across her face if it weren’t for the smug smile that repeated what I already knew.

Kaelan was coming to kill me.

“Save me from him!” Seraphine screamed.

But she faded into the distance, for me, at least. It was just me and Kaelan now, standing in the clearing with the twisted remnants of the monsters and fallen guards strewn around us. The air crackled with tension.

Kaelan circled me, his movements fluid and predatory. I mirrored his steps, keeping my eyes locked on his, searching for any weakness to exploit. But there were little to be found. I already knew that. Even wounded, he was a storm of strength and skill, a formidable opponent in every sense of the word.

How many times had we circled each other like this—but as friends, testing each other—in the training yard? First in our youth, sweating and grunting, steam rising off our bodies in the cold as we trained before we returned to the luxurious castle. And then, later, on the front, training to keep strong and focused in the skills we would use slaying monsters before the day’s end.

Kaelan lunged at me, his sword flashing, reflecting the too-bright sun. I leapt back from the blade. It would’ve been nice if the Snake Queen had left me with a sword, but I suppose her feelings were still hurt that I helped Ekardo escape, despite the deal we’d struck.

He pressed his advantage, moving with brutal speed and slashing sword strokes. He knew my defensive moves. The two of us spotted the fallen guard at the same time, splayed across the ground, his sword fallen a few inches from his outstretched hand.

Both of us moved toward it.

I lunged for it. He was already moving, knowing where I would be, but his wounds must’ve slowed him just enough. I caught the hilt in my hand and raised it just in time to block his brutal blow.

And the two of us kept fighting, pushing each other back and forth across the ground, with quick, desperate strikes.

Our swords clashed, sparks flying in all directions as we fought with a ferocity as intense as our friendship had been. Kaelan”s eyes burned with a fierce determination, his every strike calculated and relentless. I matched him move for move, each parry and thrust pushing me to the brink of exhaustion.

The ancient ballroom surrounding us blurred, and I had to watch my footing as Kaelan tried to press me to trip over one fallen body or another. He tried, and I side-stepped, my sword slashing for his shoulder. He blocked the blow, but not my follow-up as I held his sword locked on mine; I spun in close to him and landed a punch across his face.

I hoped I could bring him down and force the potion down his throat, but he countered, our swords slipping and locking together before suddenly, we were stumbling apart, both of us trying to regain our footing and press the attack again as quickly as possible.

Blood seeped from a fresh cut on Kaelan”s cheek, mingling with the sweat that dripped down his brow, but he showed no sign of pain. He was possessed, driven by a singular goal: to protect Hanna.

But I had the same goal.

My breath came in ragged gasps against Kaelan”s unyielding assault. He was wounded, but he was also enchanted, and clearly Seraphine’s spell channeled all his power into one terrible mission, defending her.

I twisted away from Kaelan”s next strike just in time, the blade grazing my arm, sending a sharp surge of pain. He followed up in my heartbeat of hesitation, flipping his blade around so he could punch me in the face with the hilt in his palm. The taste of blood filled my mouth as he swung his sword around again, trying to drive it into my gut.

I evaded the attack, feeling a surge of adrenaline with how close I had just come to being gutted by my best friend.

I couldn’t die here. The thought of collapsing to the marble floor of my childhood home, blood streaming out of my body, the potion bottle that could save Kaelan shattered and useless, was overwhelming.

As we fought, the twisted remnants of fallen guards seemed to be watching us, their lifeless eyes following our deadly dance.

I saw an opening, a split-second opportunity. With a swift feint to the left, I lunged forward and aimed a blow at Kaelan”s side. He anticipated my move and parried with lightning speed, but twisted my wrist at the last moment, redirecting my blade towards his exposed thigh.

My sword drove into his thigh, and he staggered. He parried my next blow, his lips peeled back in pain and determination.

But now, I was able to take advantage of his momentary weakness. With a swift kick in the chest, I slammed him off balance, and he sprawled across the floor, his sword tumbling away.

I was panting for breath, my body dripping with sweat and blood. But I didn’t hesitate to throw myself into him. The two of us wrestled for dominance as we had a thousand times before.

But this time, the stakes were life and death.

Greater than life and death.

The stakes were Hanna.

I managed to get my hand around Kaelan’s throat, pinning him down as he strained upwards, his icy blue eyes beginning to bug out slightly as he struggled for breath and to renew the fight.

I fumbled in my pocket for the potion bottle, half expecting to have my hand come away bloodied by shards. But it was intact.

I knew every distraction was a chance for Kaelan, that he would exploit, but all that mattered was getting this potion down his throat. I gripped the cork between my teeth and yanked it out.

His struggles increased. His blood was pumping out of his leg between us now, and my knees were sliding in his blood flowing across the marble.

I grabbed his jaw, holding him still, in one desperate attempt to pour the potion down his throat. He thrashed, but I suceeded in getting it into his lips. I tilted the bottle.

The potion went down his throat.

“For Hanna,” I told him.

But as he sputtered and swallowed, some of the potion going down his throat and the rest of it coughed into my face as he fought, he was finding renewed strength too. He took advantage of my focus on the potion to throw me off his body.

Suddenly, I was flung across the room as Kaelan mustered every ounce of strength he had left to break free of my grip. The force of the impact sent me skidding along the cold marble floor, staining it further with my blood. I lay there, gasping and dazed, while Kaelan staggered to his feet, his leg wound still bleeding.

His eyes met mine, now filled with rage and pain.

He charged toward me. Thank the gods that in his fury, he forgot his sword; he attacked me with his fists. Seeing the murderous intent in his eyes was terrifying; he had always been a formidable opponent, but I had never seen him from this angle when he intended to truly harm. I had only seen him fighting from my side as my friend.

He threw punch after punch that I blocked, trying to hold him off while the enchantment took hold.

“Traitor,” he choked out.

I ducked a particularly vicious hook, the force of it almost knocking me off my feet, and took advantage of his momentum to knee him in the stomach. He doubled over, gasping for air, and I seized the opportunity to grab his arm and twist it behind his back. But he knew my tricks and he spun with me, leveraging my power to throw me to the ground.

I rolled with the momentum and came up onto my knee, then staggered to my feet just before he threw himself into me.

His brutal fists rained blows down on me, and I could only block some of them. I felt my ribs give under one punch, shattering, the broken bones pressing into my lungs with the next blow. I stumbled back, tasting blood in my mouth.

I landed hard on my ass. My head slammed into the marble, hard enough to make the world into a dizzy blur.

But beside me was another fallen sword. Kaelan’s own sword, now.

I could’ve reached for it.

He loomed above me, his eyes wild, blood dripping down his face.

I could grab the hilt and raise the sword as he leapt at me, impaling him. It was my last chance to survive.

“Not a traitor,” I managed through my broken lips. “Still your friend.”

The thought seemed to fill him with fury.

He dropped on top of me. His fists were hammers, and I was the anvil, enduring blow after blow. Pain bloomed across my jaw, my broken ribs—revenge for what he saw as a betrayal.

”Fight it, Kaelan! Remember!” I cried out, catching his wrist, trying to still the tempest in him with words, with pleading, since the potion hadn’t been enough to break through. Yet. Would it be, in time? Would he wake to find what he had done to me… in time to protect the real Hanna?

But for now, the enchantment was a fortress around his mind, impenetrable, cold.

His free hand found my throat, squeezing the breath from me, his face a mask of righteous wrath. My vision wavered, darkened at the edges, each labored inhale a battle with my screaming, punctured lungs. Still, I wouldn”t hurt him; I couldn”t.

”Kaelan,” I wheezed, my voice barely a whisper now, the world tilting dangerously. ”please...”

He slammed my head into the ground, then rose. For a second, the world was nothing but blinding pain, and then my vision cleared.

Above me, Kaelan loomed.

His boot pressed against my chest, pinning me with the full weight of his obsession.