40. Thalos

40

THALOS

T he moment we step back into our lair, I know something’s wrong. The air is too still, too quiet. My blood turns to ice as I scan the clearing. The bonfire’s embers are cold, untouched. Laia is gone.

We left her sleeping on a pile of fur earlier, thinking we would be back after I noticed three dark elf scouts eyeing us. Kael went with us so we could finish it faster. Taking care of them only took 10 minutes, but how is Laia gone this fast?

My fists clench at my sides, rage and fear warring within me. I failed her.

Irix's voice cuts through the silence like a blade, his anger barely contained. “Where is she?!” He rounds on me, his eyes blazing with fury. “We were supposed to protect her! You asked us to go with you! What if the dark elves got her?”

The accusation hits hard—a punch to the gut that leaves me reeling. But I don’t fight back. I can’t. He’s right. I was in charge!

“I know,” I say, my voice rough with guilt. “This is my fault.”

Irix’s fist slams into my jaw, the force knocking me off balance. Pain explodes across my face, but I don’t resist. I let him hit me again, the second blow sending me sprawling to the ground. The pain is a welcome punishment for my failure.

The only thing that keeps on repeating in my head is Laia’s face and the fact that she disappeared.

“You think this helps?” Irix snarls, his voice a mix of fury and desperation. “We were supposed to keep her safe! She trusted us!”

I stay down, tasting blood in my mouth. He’s right. Every word is a knife twisting in my gut.

Kael steps between us, his voice sharp and commanding. “Enough! This isn’t helping. We need to focus. We need to get her back.”

Suddenly, a weird scent enters my nose—something that smells like dead flowers and animals. Unfortunately, this is a scent I’m too familiar with.

Eryndor.

I push myself up, wiping the blood from my lip with the back of my hand. My eyes lock onto Kael’s, then shift to Irix’s blazing gaze. “Eryndor has her,” I say, each word laced with venom and resolve. “We can’t waste time.”

The name alone sends a shiver of rage through me. That monster dared to come into our home and take her.

“I can smell the bastard,” Irix growls, clenching his fists until the knuckles turn white. “There’s no way I’ll forget that stench of death on him.”

Kael nods, his eyes hardening with determination. “Then we follow it,” he says simply.

Irix takes a deep breath, his anger simmering just below the surface but controlled now, directed toward a single purpose: getting Laia back.

Without another word, we gather our weapons and move out, following the faint but unmistakable trail left by Eryndor and his men. The scent of death leads us like a dark beacon through the trees.

We will find her. And when we do, Eryndor will pay for every moment she spends in fear.

Irix glares, his chest shaking with anger, but he nods. “We’ll kill him. Slowly.”

Kael’s voice is steady, but there’s a dangerous edge to it. “We’ll make him pay. But first, we get her back.”

My resolve hardens as my failure presses down on me like a vice. I won’t fail her again. No matter the cost, we will bring her home.

The trail left by Eryndor and his men is faint but unmistakable, the scent of death leading us through the dense forest. Every step fuels my rage, every broken branch and disturbed leaf a reminder of what’s at stake. Laia’s face flashes in my mind—her laughter, her strength, her vulnerability—and it propels me forward.

Irix moves beside me, his breathing heavy but controlled. His fingers flex around the hilt of his axe, eager for the fight to come. “We’ll find her,” he mutters, more to himself than to anyone else.

Kael lingers at the rear, his eyes scanning our surroundings with sharp precision. He’s always been the cautious one. But now, there’s a steeliness in his gaze that I’ve rarely seen before.

We push through the underbrush, the scent growing stronger with each passing moment. The trees thin out ahead, revealing a clearing bathed in eerie moonlight. Shadows move within the circle of light—Eryndor’s men.

I raise a hand, signaling for silence as we approach the edge of the clearing. The sight before us makes my blood boil. Dark elves are packing up. It seems they got what they needed from them.

“Laia’s not here, but there’s traces of her. They passed by.” Irix grits his teeth, and so is Thalos. If Eryndor has his way, they’ll probably never see her again.

“We kill them,” Kael delcares.

“Now,” I whisper, my voice low and deadly.

We move as one—a force of nature descending upon our enemies with silent fury. Irix’s axe swings in a deadly arc, cutting down the first dark elf before he can react. Kael’s blade finds its mark with precise efficiency, each strike driven by cold determination.

I look for the leader, as Eryndor isn’t here. I find the dark elf captain. I grab the dark elf’s head and smash him on a metal box at a corner, forcing him to speak.

“Tell me, where did Eryndor bring his women?” The captain doesn’t reply, so I grab the ax and smash the back of it onto his leg. The sickening crunch of bones echoes in the night, followed by a scream of agony.

“Let me tell you,” he sobs. “He brings the women back to his estate and plays with them.”

“Good, let’s leave!” Irix declares, leaving me with the captain. With cold precision, I stab my dagger into his throat, blood bubbling out of his mouth, and I let him go.

Then, I turn on my heels, following after my brothers. Under my breath, I vow, “I’ll save you, Laia. I’m coming!”

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