Rayna dropped to her knees, guilt and grief washing over her as the creature placed its sword against her back. She pitched forward, instinct pushing her away from the blade, but the Da’ Gammorn pulled her back. It slammed her onto the bloody ground as it wrenched the knife from its shoulder. She writhed, her eyes streaming as she met Ash's dead stare.
“Bayne!” She cried out for her uncle, but even he would not be able to hear her, pressed into the mud and her friend’s lifeblood. The Da’ Gammorn placed its blade against her neck.
“Do not move, wolfkind.”
“Ash, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“He cannot hear you now, either,” the demon said.
No, but I can, Channon snarled as he pushed his claws through the monster’s back, slashing the demon’s mark on its still and shrunken heart. It pitched forward, not bones like the others. The body was not old enough for that. The blackness left Coer’s eyes as he fell and hit the ground as he should have been, an empty shell.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Mina reloaded her bow, eagle feathers slipping past her nimble fingers. Between the other archers' huffs of exhausted breath and shouts of joy when a target was hit, the unintelligible roar of battle buzzed in her ears. She scanned the scenes below, sending her arrows where they would be the most help.
A familiar face appeared in the confusion: Lurenia's brother, Winiam. Mina had met him on the journey from Sinthahelm to the battle. Blood and distance distorted his face, but there was no mistaking his boyish features. He faced a pair of Corsairs. Alone.
Mina aimed her arrow, but the Corsairs moved quickly and were too close for a clean shot. She hesitated. A Corsair's sword met Winiam's with a resounding clap, knocking the Alvornian's weapon from his hands. He backed up, unsheathing a dagger.
Mina slung her bow over her back, racing down the hill, twin daggers in hand. She slashed her way toward the young Alvornian, envisioning the sorrow on little Lurenia’s face if her brother were to die.
Winiam lay on the ground, one Corsair ripped Winiam’s knife out from his own side, roaring with anger. Mina leaped into the fray, placing herself between the Alvornian and his attackers.
“First a child, now a wench?” The uninjured Corsair laughed as his bleeding partner spat on the ground.
Mina balanced her stance. ”Why not?” Her leg connected with the closest Corsair’s face, knocking him into the other. “After all, one wench–” she slammed her first dagger into the man’s chest, “–can stick two of you pigs!” She plunged her second dagger into the remaining Corsair's neck.
Winiam took Mina's offered hand, coming to his feet. “Look out!”
A bolt grazed Mina's cheek. She turned. A Maenoren arbalist pointed his crossbow at them. He was too far away to attack with daggers. Mina yanked the bow off her back, but she would not be fast enough. She looked up, fumbling with an arrow.
The arbalist was on the ground. A red-brown wolf leaped off him and approached Mina. Taking the form of a tall, muscular man, he placed his hand on Mina’s shoulder.
“You two all right?” he asked as he peered around for other threats.
“Yes. Thanks to you.” Mina, Winiam, and the newcomer stood back-to-back as more enemies converged around them. “I'm Mina, by the way,” she said, sending an arrow into an oncoming Maenoren.
“Roxen.” He smiled, shifting wolf and running to meet the attackers.
Rayna did not move. She stayed in the muck, between the bodies of her two friends, until Channon pulled her to her feet. Snow, or maybe ash, had started to fall.
“You knew him?” Channon asked as he returned Coer's knife to her belt. She nodded, looking at Coer’s body again. Channon had closed Coer’s eyes, and he looked almost peaceful, aside from the gaping hole in his chest. She wanted to explain to Channon who Coer was—that he had told her how to break the hex and how to escape from Rhael’s clutches. But before she could, the battle surrounding them reasserted itself.
Silver cried out as Negiol, one-armed but still fighting, swung its sword across her thigh. She toppled, but before Negiol could strike again, Pike flew to her aid. The huge black wolf was missing a chunk of ear and bled heavily, but he shoved the Da’ Gammorn away long enough for Silver to escape. Channon and Rayna rushed to help. Bayne fought his way to Silver and clutched at her wound. Gar had freed himself from the horse; he limped toward Pike.
Negiol swept its glistening, black gaze over them before gesturing to its ever-growing reinforcements. A hideous sound that was not quite laughter rasped from its throat. “After we kill you, we will tear the filthy seals from your necks. Your bodies shall be host for our will. You are nothing but meat, tools for our use.”
Gar launched into the air. He crashed into Negiol, knocking it backwards onto the antlers of an enormous dead elk. Negiol screamed as one of the prongs emerged through the front of its chest. Its heart had been pierced. Negiol collapsed to dust.
But the victory was short-lived as Corsairs and Kyreans converged on them.
Silver forced Bayne aside, facing the attackers. “Bayne, get to Rhael. Go; we’ll hold them off.”
“Silver, I can’t leave you.”
“Silver’s right!” Rayna dodged the sword of a Kyrean and embedded her claws in his throat. “We have to kill Rhael. He said he wanted you and me alive. Let’s make him regret that.”
Channon shifted human after dispatching a Corsair. He touched Rayna's face with his blood-soaked hand. “Go. Make him pay.”
Rayna covered his hand and allowed herself one breath to capture the feel of his skin on hers. She did not want to think it might be the last time they would see each other, not when she had just gotten him back. She buried her fear in determination. She had done the impossible to save Channon. She would do it again if it meant they could stay together. If she died fighting Rhael, if she took the Overlord with her, at least their souls would be safe from his dark arts. She and Channon would be together again, either in life or in death, but no power on any plane would keep her from him again. Rayna exhaled, taking her wolf form as Bayne did the same. Together, they left their hearts behind and charged up the side of the valley.
Despite their bleak chances, there was no one Rayna would rather face Rhael Demetrian with than her uncle. If anyone could defeat Rhael, it was Bayne. Rhael was inhuman, an agent of the truest evil. But Bayne was her uncle. He had loved and protected her from the day she had been born. If there was any way to stop this madness, to save the pack, he would find it.
They reached the top of the hill and found Rhael waiting. They were torn and beaten, and he was whole and unblemished. A smile lit his face, and Rayna wondered how she'd ever thought him handsome. His square jaw and high cheekbones were nothing more than a mask. He was not a lion, as she had once thought. He was a viper whose venom had poisoned her for too long.
“If I had known my lambs would come to the slaughter so willingly, I would not have wasted my lieutenants on fetching you. But,” he raised his broadsword, “it is no matter. I can always make more.”
Bayne shifted into his human form, unsheathing his Alvornian steel dagger. “Is this how you fight wars, Rhael? You hide behind your army?”
“I’m not hiding, Alpha Bayne.” He tapped Bayne’s blade with his. “I’m winning.”
Rayna took her human shape. “Perhaps.”
“Perhaps?” Rhael’s grin widened. “Look around you. You can’t win this war.”
“Maybe not,” she extended her claws as her teeth lengthened, “but we can kill you.”
“Very well. If you’re so eager to die.” Rhael’s pupils exploded in gold as black fire erupted along the length of his sword. He struck a heavy blow, just missing Bayne’s arm as the Fenearen leaped out of the way. In turn, Rayna sliced with her claws. She missed Rhael’s shoulder, as she knew she would. The same moment the Overlord pulled his shoulder from Rayna’s reach, Bayne swung his claws across Rhael’s jaw.
The Overlord staggered back. Bayne had missed his j
ugular, but blood still poured down his chin and neck. Rhael swept his gloved hand over his face, healing it. He spat blood and charged toward Bayne. The Alpha dodged Rhael’s sword, but the Overlord’s eyes blazed brighter, and a shock-wave hurled Bayne into Rayna. They toppled onto the snow-flecked mud.
Rhael heaved his sword down upon them, but Rayna and Bayne formed, jumping out of the way. Bayne skimmed the Overlord’s side with his claws.
Rhael clutched his bleeding side. They had to act before he could heal himself again. Rayna jumped toward Rhael’s right as Bayne circled from the left. Rayna dodged Rhael’s sword strike at the same time as Bayne leaped for Rhael’s stomach.
The Overlord’s left hand caught the Alpha by the neck, throttling him. Rhael lifted Bayne into the air, but before he could swing his sword, Rayna tore into his sword arm.
Rhael shook her off with a roar, dropping Bayne, still holding his sword. Without stopping to breathe, Bayne and Rayna attacked again.
Bayne shifted into a wolf, avoiding Rhael’s blow, while Rayna went for Rhael’s throat, but this time the Overlord was not fooled. He stomped on Bayne’s tail and swung his sword at Rayna’s stomach. She dodged, but not enough. Pain burned as the blade sliced beneath her ribs. The force of the blow knocked her off her feet. She clutched at her wound, blood seeping through her bone-white knuckles. He had not cut her deeply enough to reach her organs, but her head still spun from the shock and sudden blood loss. Rhael stood over her with eyes of molten gold. She dragged herself away from him as he lifted his flaming sword.
Instinctively, Rayna raised her hands, knowing the burning metal would tear through them like paper birch.
The Overlord struck, but Bayne, wolf formed, leaped at Rhael’s neck. As the sword arced through the air, Rhael twisted it toward her uncle.
Bayne’s jaws snapped a hair too far away.
Rhael twisted his fiery blade deeper into Bayne’s gut. Blood poured onto Rayna, so hot it scalded her skin. Bayne formed human, sliding off the sword onto his knees and then onto his back, panting.
“No!” Rayna crawled toward him. She did not think about Rhael standing above them or her own pain. All she saw was her uncle. Steam curled from his abdomen and singed her palms as she pressed them over the ragged wound. Blood pumped through her useless fingers. Bayne tried to speak, but blood had filled his mouth. His trembling fingers touched her cheek, and she gripped them.
He coughed. “F-forgive…me. I… t-tried. Rayna…” More blood, darker than the rest, choked his words.
“Bayne! Please, don’t go!” Rayna screeched as Rhael yanked her by the hair, tossing her away from her uncle. “Bayne!”
“Don’t cry, my dear.” Rhael lodged his sword against her heart. “It will be over soon, though,” he slid the blade tip down so it rested in front of one of her lungs instead, “perhaps not too soon.”
Rayna steeled herself for the pain she knew would follow, but something slammed into Rhael, knocking him away from her. She scrambled onto her hands and knees in time to see her aunt, in wolf form, ripping into Rhael’s neck. For one fleeting moment, she thought Silver would kill him, but her aunt didn't reach her mark.
Rhael’s invisible shock-wave crashed into Silver. She sailed across the hillside; her head cracked against a rock where she landed, human and unmoving.
Rayna rose, blood dripping from her fingertips. She took a few shaky steps toward her uncle. His dark eyes were lifeless and still. Bayne, the man she had looked up to and loved her entire life, was dead, murdered as her mother had been. Rayna found Silver where she lay tail-lengths away. She had still not moved; blood trickled down her forehead.
Rhael healed himself in Rayna's peripheral vision. The battle raged on in the valley below, but tears obscured her vision too much for her to make out any of her friends.
Time ceased to exist as Rayna felt the weight of all the tragedies of her life at once. Seventeen years of fear and loss, war and death. In that moment, Rayna saw everything—her father cut down in battle, Bayne run though by the same man who had cursed Channon, her mother dying to protect her, Silver bleeding in the snow.
Her family. Her pack. Gone.
One sound brought Rayna back to the present among the din of battle–laughter. Vile, cold, and satisfied. Rayna faced the source. Rhael met Rayna’s gaze, and his laughter intensified until his body shook so much that he leaned against his broadsword's hilt to stay upright.
“You know,” he said as he wiped his sword on the slush-covered ground, “I’m almost glad it took this long to be rid of you. Just think, if I had killed you months ago, you would not have been alive to see this. This is so much more satisfying than I thought it would be. Thanks to you.” He strode toward her. His armor was dented, his skin bloodied, but he had healed his wounds to light pink scratches.
Rayna stiffened. Her tears had dried to burning salt, and her breath fell evenly despite her injuries. She met his gaze, channeling every remaining drop of courage through her veins. “You’re so sure it’s over?”
“Actually, I don’t think it is. Not for you anyway.” Rhael took a deep breath as gold spread over his eyes. “Terayan wanted your corpse, but I don't need him anymore. Nor do I need another seer. I have one, and two more will soon be in my power. All I want from you, Rayna Myana, are your screams.”
Rayna did not at first understand his threat until she saw the twin, black coils rise out of the ground and wrap around her ankles like shackles. The Sionic Hex. The same evil that had dragged Channon to Hell now had her. She would be torn from Osterna and forced beneath that seething, black ocean.
There would be no one to save her.
She felt the oily surface of the tendrils oozing up her legs. Arrabus waited for her, the demon warden who would torture her with the faces of those she loved and loathed for eternity.
Everything left undone and unsaid crowded through her panicked mind. Rayna would never make Mina understand how grateful she was for her friendship. She would never tell Kellan goodbye. She would never see Channon again. She would never hold him or tell him everything she should have long before. A scream fought from her petrified lungs.
As she screamed, the syrupy bonds shrank away, releasing her with a hiss, folding back into the ground.
“What? How?” Rhael stared at the bubbling mud at Rayna’s feet as it stilled. He raised his livid gaze to her face. “Death it is, then.” He flicked his wrist, just as she had seen Terayan do to snap a crewman's neck.
Her neck did not break. A whisper of air passed over Rayna's skin, and that was all. She did not know how, but Rhael’s magic had no effect on her. It had before when she and Channon had faced him, yet something had changed. But Rayna could not stop to ponder her apparent immunity, because Rhael still had his sword.
The Overlord struck hard, almost clumsy in his anger, Bayne's lifeblood still clinging to his weapon. Rayna dodged it. Bayne's body, as well as Ash’s and Coer’s and countless others, lay lifeless because of the man standing before her. He had tossed her aunt aside like she was nothing; his men had murdered her mother.
Rhael Demetrian. She had once thought to be his bride, but as she took her wolf form, Rayna recognized herself.
She was his executioner.
She snarled as she circled the Overlord. He was not smiling anymore. Rayna planted her four feet and raised her head, willing her emerald eyes to burn him alive.
“Intimidation will not have the slightest effect on me, Rayna,” Rhael said as he met her gaze. Rayna paid no attention to Rhael’s words. She only heard the pumping of his blood, the hiss of his breath. It was like being on a hunt. All sounds, smells, and sights not pertaining to her prey faded. She had been looking at this like a fight, but she was not trained as a warrior. Like her uncle before her, Rayna was a hunter, and a damn good one.
Rhael’s frustration mounted as several heartbeats passed without a single movement from her. He attempted another spell, but his shock-wave did nothing more than rustle her hair. He would come to
her, as she wanted. He ground his teeth. With a growl not so different from a Fenearen’s, he charged.
Rayna curved away from his sword, snapping her jaws around Rhael’s leg. He yelled in pain, striking the hilt onto her snout as she released him. Blood flowed from Rayna’s nose. Rhael's good leg kicked her in the chest. She rolled, her blood and the Overlord’s obscuring her vision. Rhael sliced his sword at Rayna as she leaped to her feet. He did not stop. He swung it again, catching Rayna’s hind leg.
She regained her feet, avoiding Rhael’s blows, seeking ways to attack. Her body weakened with every move. She had no idea how much blood she had lost, but the world spun; it had to be a lot. Even if she defeated Rhael, she could die afterward.
It didn't matter. What Rayna knew for sure was that she could not keep this up much longer. She needed an opening—one last chance at his life.
Rhael hurled his sword down, but Rayna leaped away. Instead of going for his neck or chest like he would have expected, she ripped into his wrist.
Rhael shook his arm, losing his sword in the process. Rayna held on. He smashed his free fist into her head.
Rayna's jaws loosened. He grabbed her by the ears, hurling her onto the ground. The pain forced Rayna into human form, and Rhael crushed his bloody boot over her throat as she squirmed, her eyes streaming with sweat and tears.
Rhael fell upon her. He straddled her, pinning her with the full weight of his gigantic body. She tried to shift, but she could not breathe, let alone find the strength to transform. He smashed his maimed forearm over her windpipe. Rayna scratched at Rhael with broken, human nails, unable to scream.
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