Chapter 60

Ididn't know where to look first.

At Zor, wings trapped beneath him splayed at two totally different, uncomfortable angles, glaring up at Tavion. At Tristan and Bexley, frantically stuffing food into the bags so Tristan could fly me to the palace, even though no one had bothered asking me my opinion on the matter.

Or at Tavion, fingers tapping impatiently on the table as he waited for Zor to climb to his feet.

"What? Nobody wants to take my ten gilder?" My husband's grin faltered when my glare fell on him. "It was a joke," he muttered. "Just trying to lighten the mood. Sheesh."

"Read the room, you idiot," Raz muttered, moving forward at the same time I did, both of us reaching for Zor's arms.

"Fucking leave me be. I can do this myself." There was a biting edge to Zor's low snarl, and I snapped my hands back, but Raziel just grasped Zor's arm and heaved him to his feet.

"Stop snapping at us, you grumpy bastard. This will take some getting used to. Remember when Grenfel lost an arm and had to learn to fight all over again with his left hand? This is like that."

Zor paused and, for the first time, seemed to actually focus.

"Grenfel, huh?" Zor looked thoughtful, one wing standing higher than the other one, teetering back and forth as he fought for balance. "That fucker was a menace, even with one arm."

"As you'll be, as soon as you stop falling over," Tavion teased, his eyes glowing with amusement. "But don't worry, fearless leader, we'll keep picking you up off the floor until the day that happens."

Zor's jaw worked. "You can fuck right off, wolf."

Tavion winked at me. "Spoken like a true poet. Now, what's our plan should Lord and Lady Whitehall show up? My wife will be on her way to the palace, carried safely on the back of our own pet wyvern…"

"Fuck off, Tavion, you wanker," Tristan spat along with a burst of sparks. My dear husband only grinned wider.

"…leaving us to face them alone. Since your body is for shite right now, Zor, let's put that strategic mind to work." Gods, Tavion was enjoying this far too much, and that little possessive growl he did every time he said my wife was simply to get a rise out of the others.

"First of all, you are not the boss of me, husband, no matter how much you pretend you are. And stop being a pain in everybody's arse. And for the final time, I'm not leaving any of you behind." I stared them all down, daring them—just one of them—to argue.

When Zor scowled, I pointed to the windows dripping with rot. "Once this ward breaks, the blight comes in. Depending on the size of the opening, we might not have time to escape before we're fighting the effects of the blight. Our best chance is me shoring up the shield, keeping the rot out."

Zor's face settled into that cold, impassive commander-of-the-whole-godsdamn-army expression as he processed this information. "Then everyone leaves tonight. I stay, and when I can travel, I'll meet you there."

"Have you even tried using your magic yet?" Tavion dared. "Move from here"—he pointed to the opposite side of the room, in front of the blight-encrusted windows—"to there. If you can."

"Fuck off, wolf." Zor bristled. "Unlike you, I'm not a dog doing tricks."

"So that's a no, then?" Raz tipped his head, considering. "Has your magic changed, then? Or is it depleted?"

Even from here, I saw the herculean effort strain Zorander's face as he rallied his magic, shadows swirling through the air, lifting up the ends of his feathers as if caught in a storm. I was about to shout a warning when he disappeared.

And stayed gone.

"Godsdamn it, you two. You should have given him time to adjust before you started up with your male bullshite. He literally climbed out of bed ten minutes ago." I scanned every inch of the room. "Where is he?"

"Don't worry, he'll show up," Raz said, but he'd gone pale.

Power and shadow flooded the room, dousing the candles, turning the darkness pitch-black. There was a thump and a cough before the air cleared to reveal Zor on the opposite side of the room, exactly where Tavion had pointed, wings splaying out from his shoulders, both middle fingers up, beads of sweat gleaming all over his pleased expression.

"There, motherfucker. Are you happy now?"

Oh my gods. Zor had used his magic.

He'd actually done it.

He was also perfectly positioned to take the brunt of the attack when two blackened, twisted creatures crashed through the window, sending sharpened slivers of blight-infested glass flying through the room like knives.

One of them sliced through my cheek, another cutting a furrow through my calf.

The larger of the two crouched, arm muscles tensing before launching itself at Tavion. Frenzied, they rolled into the fire, sending burning logs and sparks flying across the rug, igniting a hundred small blazes. The demon rolled up onto its feet, Tavion tearing off his shirt, mouth open in a primal scream.

A massive white wolf took his place, ripping into the beast with brutal precision, tearing chunks of blackened flesh out of the side of the creature's—Lord Whitehall, I presumed—throat, then spitting the foul, decaying meat onto the floor with a juicy splat before the two circled each other, evenly matched in size and ferocity.

Another creature leapt through the opening, dragging in a cloud of blight, then another.

And another.

They were definitely my creations, Fae twisted into abominations, their bodies covered in black, glossy hides lined with thorns and thick, pulsing veins. Their faces were still vaguely Fae, dark brown eyes and flattened noses above gaping mouths lined with black teeth swimming in saliva.

Bexley screamed as one of the creatures rocketed toward him, the room dissolving into a melee of snapping fangs and flashing magic before a scaly, taloned foot closed around my waist and yanked me off the floor violently enough to knock the breath out of me.

I had the presence of mind to cast a wobbly shield around everyone as Tristan heaved me up into the sky, both of us swallowing a choking inhale of blight-infested air before I remembered we needed a shield, too.

The last thing I saw before Ravenswood was swallowed by darkness was the horde of hulking forms racing toward the castle on four legs.

"Set me down, Tristan." I clawed and strained at the foot holding me tight. "We can't leave them."

But the wind tore my words away.