by Meg Anne
“Daejaran scum!” he spat, lunging toward Von.
Anticipating a hidden blade, Von dodged the attack, twirling to the side so that his flaming sword slid across the Endoshan heir’s back, the sharp edge of the blade cutting through leather and skin, while Kai-Soren’s hair went up in flame. Von smirked, enjoying himself far too much. He’d disliked the heir ever since their first meeting when he’d flung ignorant insult after insult at Von.
For all the prestige laid at the Endoshan warrior’s feet, Von was underwhelmed by the skill of their heir. He probably lets the poison do the work for him. Von snorted with derision. No true leader should be outmatched by the rest of their people. It’s one thing to surround yourself by those strong where you are not, it’s another thing entirely to be utterly incompetent. Something wasn’t adding up.
Kai-Soren’s blows were half-hearted at best, and Von was able to dodge and disarm him easily.
“Stop playing with me and end it,” the heir hissed, staring up at Von from where he’d landed on his back after Von had swept his legs out from under him.
Von gave him a long considering look. “Can’t stand to deal with the mess you’ve made of things? Where’s that infamous Endoshan honor now?”
Kai-Soren looked away, and it was all the answer Von needed.
“You’ve failed your people. You are not worthy to lead them.”
“End it, Daejaran!”
“With pleasure,” Von hissed, using his blade to slit the filthy traitor’s throat.
Von was not his Mate. When presented with an opportunity to show mercy, it did not come naturally to him to take that route. Besides, there were less honorable ways to die than on a battlefield during a war. The only mercy Von would show was not telling what was left of his people that their heir had begged for his death like a coward.
It would have to be good enough, and it was still more than he deserved.
Helena flew at the head of the pride, Starshine on her right and Midnight on her left. She could feel the heat of the Talyrian flames as they took out wave after wave of the Shadow army. With each skeletal body that was lost to the flames, she felt an answering call of satisfaction.
She focused solely on the man in black whose hands were playing with purple licks of Fire. If given the chance, he would unleash that corrupted Fire on her people, and it would not stop until it ran out of things to consume. They could not give him that chance.
Starshine roared and the Talyrians broke rank, confusing the Fire General as he could no longer anticipate where the attack would come from. They played with him like a cat with a mouse, one Talyrian swooping in low while another shot off a jet of flame. He dodged the attacks, jumping out of the way of one with barely enough time to dodge the other. He was their puppet on a string.
The General grew tired of the game quickly. He started to lob balls of purple flames up into the sky. For every Talyrian he knocked off course in their attempt to dodge the flame, another one took its place.
Starshine circled the General, swatting at him with extended claws. He raised his arms, trying to protect his face from the deadly tips but was only successful in providing easier access to his skin. Her claws raked against him, thick lines of black ichor beginning to show everywhere Starshine made contact. The General cried out in pain and rage, a ball of Shadow Fire growing in the palm of his hand.
Game time was over.
Helena swooped down, her Talyrian fangs bared as she growled low in her throat. She watched the General’s empty eyes staring up at her as her mouth opened and ripped the arm from its socket. Next was Midnight, his teeth raking the flesh clean off the other arm before snapping it in two. With the threat of Shadow Fire neutralized, the General was unable to do more than spin in an impotent circle. Starshine was last, the Talyrian Queen ripping out his throat and completing the kill.
From her place on the hill, Rowena screeched in outrage, more of her power lost. It was nowhere near enough to avenge the unfortunate deaths of the two Talyrians that had fallen to Rowena’s twisted power, but it was a damned good start.
The pride flew across the sky, their howls of victory interrupted only by jets of flame as they laid waste to more of the Shadow fiends below.
One down, two to go.
Von spun, looking for his next target. Ronan and Reyna looked like they had their hands full with the decaying General, but before he could get to them, a wave knocked him over. His skin stung everywhere the water touched him, and Von hissed in pain. He looked down to see his skin erupt in blisters. Steam rose from the water before it was absorbed back into the earth, which quickly turned to mud.
The decision made for him, Von made his way toward Kragen instead, blinking across the muddy ground instead of fighting against it.
The Water General was keeping the Chosen busy dodging his waves, but the Storm Forged were giving as good as they got. While the Chosen worked on the group of Shadows that were attacking, the Storm Forged worked to take control of the water. Every time it looked like they would be successful, a new wave would appear behind them and break their concentration, causing them to start over.
When it came to controlling Water, there was only one person that outmatched the Stormbringer, and she was currently flying through the sky with the rest of the Talyrians, but at the moment, Anduin seemed anything but in control.
“Stormbringer,” Von greeted when he appeared beside him.
Anduin’s eyes were pinched and he had broken out into a sweat. “This is the first time water has felt like it was fighting against me. There is something, unclean, about it.”
Von nodded, not surprised to hear that the element the General was commanding was tainted. It was the nature of Rowena’s Generals.
“What do you need?” Von asked.
“A distraction. Something that will let us take control of the water and cleanse it before returning it to the earth. In its current form, the damage it’s doing to the land and its potential to harm those that come into contact with it is…” Anduin shrugged, at a loss for words. “It’s bad,” he said finally.
Von nodded. A distraction he could do. “Regroup and wait for my signal.”
The Stormbringer nodded, looking relieved that someone else was taking control.
Kragen was wiping black ichor from his blade when he looked up at Von. “Slimy little fuckers,” he said by way of greeting.
Von laughed and nodded. “That they are, brother.”
“I wouldn’t mind so much if it wasn’t for the smell,” Kragen continued conversationally, decapitating another Shadow with his blade as if this was a normal occurrence. Perhaps these days it was.
Seeing as how they did emit the distinct aroma of rotting vegetation and feces, Von wasn’t about to disagree.
“Do you remember that one time during training, where the recruit tripped over his own boot and went flying into Ronan?” Von asked.
Kragen gave a snicker of laughter. “I can hardly forget, especially after Ronan bashed the kid upside his head and sent him spinning, but is this really the time to dredge up our fondest memories?” Kragen punctuated the question by driving the tip of his sword into the chest of another Shadow before pulling it out and gutting him.
“We’re going to recreate it.”
Kragen paused only long enough to look at Von and ask, “You want to trip over your boot and into me? Now?”
“No, dumbass, I want you to launch me into the General so I can knock him over and distract him long enough for Anduin to gain control of the water.”
Understanding flickered in Kragen’s dark eyes. “You don’t want him to see you coming.”
“Exactly.”
Kragen grinned, his eyes crinkling with unconcealed delight. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I am damned sure I am going to enjoy this far more than you. Brace yourself.”
Von was by no means a small man, but Kragen still towered above him. With less effort than he would have liked, Kragen grabbed Von by the back of his shir
t and hauled him up into the air. Von could feel the tingle of power as Kragen reinforced his throw with Air. Within seconds, Von was flying, his arms spindling out of control as he flew like an arrow straight toward the General. By the time the bastard noticed him catapulting toward him, the General could do nothing except fall under Von’s weight.
There was a loud grunt and crack. After a quick mental check, he was certain that no major injuries were sustained, at least on his part. The General tried to push Von off him, but Von continued to shift and move, keeping the General pinned beneath his weight.
After a moment of the wrestling, Von realized it was absolutely stupid to wait for a distraction when he was in such a prime position. He hoisted himself up just enough to pull one of the daggers he’d knicked from Kai-Soren and drove it into the side of the General’s neck. Black ichor spewed from the wound as he drew the blade back out.
“Nighty night,” he crooned as the General gasped before wet gurgles of ichor bubbled from his mouth.
Von was enjoying himself entirely too much. Such was the way of the bloodlust.
Kragen stood above him, staring down with such a downcast look that Von was concerned. “What’s wrong?”
“Can’t you save some for the rest of us?” Kragen winked, and Von shook his head.
“Help me up, Sword, and I’ll see what I can do for you.”
Kragen grasped Von’s forearm and pulled him up with ease. Together the two men turned to face the Storm Forged, who were using the last of the corrupted water to capture and drown the Shadows nearest to them.
“Remind me not to piss that guy off,” Kragen said in a low voice.
There was a scream, and the world began to shake.
“Brother,” Von said, “the Stormbringer is the least of our worries.”
Ronan grunted as the razor-sharp nails of the Shadow scored his skin. They’d been ambushed by the cadavers as soon as they’d gotten within reach of the General.
Reyna took one look at the blight that spread out in a ring wherever he stood and ripped her necklace off. Ronan gave her a baffled look but did not have time to wonder what in the Mother’s name she was doing.
A jet of Talyrian fire helped take care of a few Shadows, giving Ronan a chance to breathe and re-center himself. He’d lost track of the battle raging around him, focusing only on the opponents before him and clearing a path to take down another of Rowena’s Generals.
Reyna was muttering something under her breath, and Ronan gave her another look.
“What are you doing?”
The Night Stalker blinked up at him. “Summoning the Watchers.”
It was Ronan’s turn to blink. “I thought that they had fulfilled their promise in the Vale.”
Reyna shrugged. “It’s all in how you look at it, I suppose. What matters now is that they’re here.” She gestured toward the horizon where the trees seemed to shift and stretch.
“But—”
She slapped him on the shoulder. “Save your deep thinking for later, Shield. We have enemies to kill.”
Ronan shook his head, amazed at how fast the trees had transformed. He recognized the lumbering tree men from the brief time he’d seen them during the Battle of the Vale, but he’d forgotten just how impressive they were. The trees moved slowly, but their massive size more than made up for it by helping them cover the distance quickly; their method of execution by stomping was probably the greatest thing Ronan had ever seen.
Second greatest thing, he corrected instantly, seeing two golden Talyrian wings carry Helena across the sky toward the hill Rowena cowered upon. He still did not understand where the ability to transform had come from, but he was endlessly thankful for it. If Helena was moving toward Rowena, it meant that there must only be one General left.
Ronan sprang back into action, hacking at the Shadows without end. Soon there was nothing between Ronan and the last of the Generals. The man opened his mouth and blew. Ronan watched as a thick green cloud flew from his mouth.
Reyna hissed, moving from somewhere behind Ronan to his side before he could comprehend the movement. She shoved him down, throwing her body on top of his.
“Do you have no regard for your life?” she raged.
“What?”
Reyna scowled, looking as furious as she had when she’d slapped the shit out of him. Once he got over the shock of it, he’d been rather impressed. No one had ever left such a perfect handprint on him for any amount of time, let alone the three hours hers took to even begin to fade.
“He was trying to poison you, or are you too stupid to notice?” Reyna snapped, pulling him back to the present.
Ronan pushed her off, rolling until he was above her. Reyna squirmed beneath him, and Ronan gave her a look that had her going still.
“Thank you,” he said dryly, before looking around to see where the General had moved to.
What he saw next had him jumping to his feet.
In the minute he’d been pushed to the ground, the world had gone to shit. Or part of it had. Everything that had come into contact with the General’s plague cloud had withered and died. That included two of the Watchers that had been the closest. The ground was littered with Night Stalkers and Chosen alike, the rotting tree men standing over their bodies like morbid sentinels.
Reyna looked at the bodies of the dead, her own body vibrating with fury until wisps of shadow were floating away from her.
“Reyna,” Ronan cautioned, seeing the General turn his attention back to them.
But she was already gone. Shadow-stepping to a place just behind the General, Reyna’s daggers flashed as she slid the sharp surface along his neck. She was fast, but so was he. The General had time to puff out one final breath of toxic air. Ronan watched Reyna’s eyes go wide, the whites showing as she fought against the General’s grasp.
“No!” he roared, fear turning his blood to ice.
Reyna vanished, staggering when she reappeared beside him. Ronan looked at the once flawless face that twisted and sagged on one side, one of her forest green eyes now a milky white.
“Ronan?” she asked, her fear making her voice child-like.
Years of bearing witness to fatal injuries were all that helped him school his face. His expression gave nothing away. Scars meant little to him, he’d had his fair share for years before Helena had taken them away. He ran his hand along the uninjured side of her face, his fingers weaving into her hair to hold her still while he pressed a gentle kiss to the unmarred part of her forehead.
“Ronan?” she asked again, her fingers biting into his arms hard enough to bruise.
Before he could try to murmur nonsensical words of comfort, a scream of inhuman pain filled the air and the ground began to quake.
Chapter Thirty
Helena stretched her wings as she glided through the air, loving the feel of her powerful Talyrian form. The battle raged on below, her Chosen laying waste to the Shadow army. She watched from the sky as her friends took out Rowena’s Generals, one after the other, and she itched to join them in battle. They were close, so close, to her finally being able to go after Rowena. She felt like a dog on a chain. The beast in her was eager to be unleashed, and the anticipation of being free was causing her blood to roar in her ears. Until the last one fell, she didn’t want to risk getting too close. For all of the perks that came with being a Talyrian, she was also a much larger target.
While removed from the bulk of the fighting, Rowena was by no means idle. She was busy shouting orders and trying to replace her fallen Shadows by picking off the Chosen closest to her. A few had fallen from her efforts, but between the Talyrian fire and the speed with which the Generals were being taken out, Rowena could not balance out her losses. It was a fact that brought Helena no end of pleasure. For once they had finally taken, and managed to keep, the upper hand.
After sustaining the loss of two more Generals, the Corruptor was looking decidedly worse for wear. Her hair was falling around her face in limp strands and her pale
complexion was a mottled red. She was furious and desperate, a dangerous combination.
Helena knew the moment Rowena decided to change her strategy. She abruptly stopped targeting the Chosen and scrambled her way to the top of another small hill, zeroing in on Helena. Unsure what to expect, Helena swooped down low, which proved to be a costly mistake.
Rowena’s mouth fell open in a cruel smile when she saw Helena coming back into range. With a high-pitched scream, she unleashed a jet of corrupted Spirit aimed straight for Helena. Helena was able to easily dodge the first jet, but soon bolt after bolt was being flung her way. She ducked and wove, but it was soon impossible to navigate the sky as it became filled by the evil purple bolts. All Helena could rely on was instinct as she tried to avoid them, but eventually she chose to bank right when she should have dropped down. It was a move that allowed her to avoid one of the glowing jets only to end up flying headfirst into another. Seeing her error, Helena tried to jerk back, using her wings to pull her up, but it was too late.
Searing pain radiated from her chest, and Helena let out a surprised roar as she began to fall from the sky. As she fell, she heard Von echo her cry, his voice a blend of shock and pain as the blow reverberated through their bond. It wasn’t just the physical pain they felt, it was the huge drain of power Helena experienced as a result of the leeching shadow bolt. That thieving bitch just stole my power, Helena thought with an angry snarl.
Rowena cackled manically, the injection of power more than enough to regenerate her depleted power stores.
Helena tried to beat her wings, but it was as if she’d lost the ability to control them. She continued to tumble through the sky, feeling her body fighting against the transformation back to human as she did. She started to feel true fear as the ground loomed closer. A fall from this height would mean only one thing unless she could find a way to cushion the landing. As she flipped through the air, she caught sight of Von’s inky black hair as he raced across the ground.