Found and Forged

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Found and Forged Page 25

by Ivy Asher


  “Unless you have another place erected somewhere in the city where I can work out, I’m good here, but thanks.”

  She goes stiff and then whirls around. Her nostrils flare with anger, and for some reason, I really like that. It feels good to get under this arrogant brat’s skin.

  “I said leave,” she orders again.

  “And I said no,” I volley back.

  “I am the second in line to the Sovereign, and I have given you an order,” she growls.

  “I am the first in line to I don’t give a fuck. I’m not yours to command. This place is plenty big enough for both of us. You stay out of my way, and I’ll stay out of yours.”

  Suryn takes a menacing step toward me, and it’s obvious that she’s fuming. “Who do you think you are, breaching our boundaries, waltzing up in here like you’re owed something, tarnishing everything with your presence?” she seethes.

  “First of all, I don’t waltz, it’s impossible to make that look badass. Second of all, from the sound of things, it’s my bloodline that’s due for a little Sovereign time. You may see tarnish but, bitch, I see a glow-up, and this place is in desperate need of a reality check.”

  “Oh yes, your reality, where spreading your thighs for filth is for the common good, right?”

  I shake my head at her, fucking brainwashed twit. “Careful, Suryn, because your magic seems real fond of that filth you keep referring to. It was real quick to claim the first worthy males it could. Desperate much?”

  She takes another step toward me. “Are you going to leave, or am I going to have to make you?” she threatens, and I snicker.

  I run my eyes over her frame, sizing her up. She’s a couple inches shorter than me and not quite as muscular, but I know she’s good with weapons, and the bitch can fly.

  Sounds like fun.

  “Let’s fight for it,” I challenge.

  “Done,” she agrees, and with that, she closes the fifteen feet of distance between us in one magic fueled leap.

  Fuck, I really need to figure this flying thing out.

  She swipes at me with a katana as she lands, and I guess that solves the weapons or no weapons question. I lean back, the blade slicing at the armor of my top, and call on my short swords. I cross them in an X and then arc them up, stopping her from trying to cut me in half. Her katana ricochets off of my blades, and I kick out at her. I land a foot square in her stomach, and my blade slices up her back in a clean line as she crumbles forward from the impact of the kick.

  She hisses and spins away from me. I twirl my swords in my grip and let her go. I circle her slowly as she rubs a hand over her back and glares at her blood tipped fingers.

  “First blood, you want to stop?” I snark with a raised eyebrow.

  Suryn raises her own eyebrow haughtily and gestures with her sword to my chest. “Try again, you stray.”

  I look down and notice a bleeding cut through my shirt at the bottom of my ribs. Well, shit, that’ll teach me to get all braggy.

  I shake my head, amused. Round two.

  I call on throwing knives and start to pelt her with them. She bats them away with her sword, and I up the ante by calling on Offensive magic. I rotate between throwing blades and orbs at her, and she rotates between calling up shields and batting away weapons. Suryn clearly has Elemental magic, hence the flying, and Defensive magic, hence the shields. I question whether or not she has anything else in her magical arsenal, when the ground under me goes from solid to ocean-like waves.

  Conjuring a disk of magic directly under my feet, I do my best to ride the waves as I hurl balls of fire at her. Water shoots from Suryn’s hands, dousing my assault, so I freeze her water into dagger-sharp points and fling them at her instead. One of the ice daggers nicks her cheek, but I have zero time to celebrate the hit as a broken pole comes hurtling my way. I dive to dodge it, but the ground where I’m about to land turns into rock spikes.

  Air comes at my call, and I use it to blow me out of the way of the sharp points. I use a little too much force, and it sends me spinning, so I shove a barrier out around me to keep anything else from impaling me while I try to find my feet. Then I chuck another barrier her way. Suryn flies up, avoiding my magic, and throws an axe at me. It bounces off my shield as I shake away the dizziness I have from tornado-ing myself away from the land spikes.

  My barrier fractures from the hit of the axe, and the next thing I know, Suryn is slamming into me. She punches at the cut she gave me on my ribs. I grunt in pain and hammer her with elbow after elbow to her neck and shoulders. She stabs me with something, and I can tell right away that she’s hit a lung. She tries to fly up and off of me as I call on another dagger.

  Oh no you don’t!

  A whip appears in my hand, and I crack it at her. The braided magic wraps around her neck, and I yank her back down to the ground. Dirt plumes around her as she crashes to the ground with an oomph and a painful sounding crunch. Suryn writhes on the ground, and I can see that she’s struggling to catch her breath.

  Well, that makes two of us.

  I look down to see a long thin dagger shoved between my ribs. I pull it out with a grunt. The dagger poofs out of my hold, and I look over to see Suryn trying to get to her feet, watching me with a satisfied smile. I rip off my shirt to see how bad it is, but I can tell by how hard it is to breathe that it’s a nasty one. Luckily for me, Ryker helped me to figure out what Siah’s runes do. I activate his bite marks on my right shoulder and stare at Suryn with a big fuck you in my smile.

  Her eyes go wide as both of my wounds knit together in front of her. I take a deep breath as my magic heals the damage to my lung and surrounding muscle and tissue. I wipe at the leftover blood on my side. My skin is once again smooth as I pull my soiled shirt back over my head.

  “How?” Suryn asks as she gets all the way to her feet.

  “I’d take any of my Chosen over your purest blooded Sentinels any day,” I retort, and I call on another gust of wind and blast myself at her. It’s not as kickass as flying, but it’s effective. I go full missile and slam my fist against her cheek as I tackle her. She kicks me over her head. I flip and twist to right myself and then spin a roundhouse into her side.

  Suryn grabs my ankle and drops an elbow into my knee. I call on my staff and swing it at her head, but she gets a shield up just in time. My staff connects to the magical barrier, and it sends nerve numbing vibrations up my arms and into my body. I let the staff go and shake out my arms. Suryn calls on her own staff, which has spikes ringing each end, and a flash of staff envy strikes through me.

  I want spikes.

  She steps back and starts spinning it expertly, like she expects the show alone to send me running. I smile.

  “Whoa there, Gandalf. Please don’t smite me with your sweet moves,” I snark.

  “You talk too much,” she growls at me as she charges.

  My own staff appears in time to stop her spikes from connecting with my head, and the crack of noise the two weapons make as they strike one another sounds like an explosion of thunder.

  Booms ricochet all around us as we strike at each other, and it sounds like the heavens are beating the war drums in our honor.

  “You know the Sovereign is going to kill you,” I throw out there randomly, feeling the urge to talk more now that I know it bugs her.

  “Oh no!” she mocks. “I guess I’ll just throw down my weapon and let you have the honor instead.”

  I snort and spin, bringing my staff down high. She blocks the hit, but I use the momentum to allow the opposite end of my staff to nail her in the stomach. She grunts but doesn’t miss a beat as she swings her staff into my shoulder. The spikes don’t connect, thank fuck. I’m too close for her to hit me with either end, but it still hurts. I activate Siah’s runes again, and whatever injury was there heals.

  These marks are the fucking shit!

  “You think I’d really believe anything you say anyway?” she growls at me as our staffs meet in another boom.

&n
bsp; “I don’t really give a fuck what you believe. It’s the truth. If you don’t believe me now, you will. Right before she slits your throat or has that creep Ory take you out, you’ll know then that the stray was right.”

  “Ory is loyal,” she counters.

  “Right, just like your aunt, the Sovereign, is?” I challenge.

  Suryn backs away from me for a minute, and we both watch each other.

  “How do you even know this?” she asks me after a couple beats.

  “Overheard it one night.”

  She scoffs.

  “Trust me, I wish I hadn’t gotten myself lost in the castle. I would love to not know what the Sovereign sounds like while she lets some dude fuck her face,” I confess, and we both cringe.

  “Was this the same night you were fucking my...your Shield?” Suryn corrects herself.

  I watch her for a moment, taking in the fire that lights up in her hazel eyes. Is she jealous?

  “You’ve got it wrong,” I tell her.

  She gives me a sardonic smile. “What? That you weren’t rubbing up all over your Shield?”

  “That, for starters, but you’re especially wrong about that whole filth mentality that’s poisoning your brain. You think you’re better than they are, but they’ve got you beat in every possible way. You’re the one lacking, not them.”

  “Yes, and you know me so well,” she bites back.

  “I know enough to spot a close-minded hypocrite when I see one.”

  “And I know enough to spot a power hungry back dweller when I see one,” Suryn snaps back.

  “Now, now, now, don’t go getting me confused with your aunt. Taking things that don’t belong to them clearly runs in your family, I wonder what else does?” I jab.

  “Fuck you, mongrel,” she flings at me as we move to go head to head again.

  “Better an honorable mongrel than a pureblood piece of shit,” I proclaim.

  I spin, dropping my staff and slicing across her stomach with the throwing knife I just called into my grip. “Oh wait, that’s right, isn’t your dad lamia?” I ask, my voice dripping with faux sweetness, as I move inside the strike she’s trying to brain me with and cut up the inside of her arm. “Looks like we’re both just a couple of mongrels,” I observe, slamming my blade into her thigh and rolling away from her.

  Suryn hisses and yanks the small dagger from the meat of her thigh. She throws it at me, and it goes wide. I pluck the handle out of the air and let the weapon disappear as I disengage the runes. She sways on her feet, and I can tell from the blood dripping down her arm that the cut up the inside of her bicep is the one that’s about to bring her to her knees.

  I brush myself off and walk slowly toward her. She drops to one knee and shakes her head like she’s struggling to stay conscious. Suryn calls on her katana as I get close, but I push it aside like it’s nothing. I reach for her throat, recognizing the resignation I see in her eyes. She knows this is it.

  I shake my head at her presumption and shove magic into her. I feel for her wounds, healing them one by one, and shove away any respect I might feel over the fact that she fought as well as she did when she’s this beat up.

  “What are you doing?” she asks me, her tone laced with confusion.

  “What does it look like? I’m healing you.”

  “I know, but why?”

  I crouch down to look her straight in the eyes. “Because I’m not actually trying to kill you. I just needed to blow off some steam. You need to broaden your horizons and open your mind, not die.”

  I finish mending all of her injuries and shove her away from me a little harder than is necessary as I stand up. Suryn rubs at her throat and shakes her head at me. She watches me for a moment like I’m a puzzle she just now realizes she hasn’t figured out. She rolls over and pushes up from the ground slowly. But as she gets back on her feet, she hisses and clutches at her chest. She looks over at me, her gaze filled with agony.

  Fuck, did I miss something?

  I move toward her and open my mouth to ask her what’s going on.

  “My Chosen,” she whimpers, and then just like that, she shoots into the sky and takes off like a fighter jet.

  I stare at her wake, confused. Her Chosen? Does she have more than just… My thoughts trail off as I realize what just happened.

  The guys are in trouble.

  I shove magic into my legs and sprint for the door. I seriously need to fucking learn how to fly. I slam through the wood out into the open air and scare the shit out of Ory, who was standing there looking at the sky. I skid to a stop.

  “Fly me to where she’s going!” I shout at him.

  “What?” he asks. “What happened? Where is she going?” he demands, looking back up at the sky like he expects Suryn to be there.

  “I don’t fucking know, but someone must be hurt. Follow her and take me with you!” I scream at him again, panic burning up my throat. I’m wasting time here, but if this birdbrain can pull his head out of his ass, he’ll get me wherever she’s going faster than running will.

  I stomp over to him and wrap my arms around his neck without waiting for his permission. “Go!” I bellow at him, and the order finally spurs him to action. Ory wraps strong arms around my waist, crouches down slightly, and then blasts us up into the air like a fucking rocket. I tighten my hold around his neck and try to search the sky for Suryn.

  The flap of his massive wings blocks my view, but I don’t risk trying to turn around midair so I can track the Sentinel that’s tied to my Shields. Ory pulls me tighter against him, and we snap right. I think we’re headed in the direction of the castle, which sends fear crawling up my insides.

  Stupid, stupid, stupid fucking Sentinel. You left your Chosen and Shields behind so you could have a temper tantrum in private. I fucking knew the Sovereign was going to try something. I’m a fucking idiot.

  “You don’t know that’s what’s happening,” Ory tells me as we drop slightly, and I tighten my grip even more.

  “Are you reading my mind?” I demand as I try to get my bearings.

  “No, you’re screaming into my ear. Something else could be happening, so just calm your glowy shit down so we can assess the situation before you magic fry people,” he tells me.

  Sure enough, when I look down, I see that my runes are glowing purple. I have to stop myself from reaching out to the guys mentally. What have I always said about distractions in the middle of a fight? I remind myself over and over as Ory circles the side of the castle and aims for a broken wall of windows that looks terrifyingly familiar.

  I don’t feel anything that would indicate that my Chosen are hurt, but that doesn’t reassure me as much as I’d like as we dive through the wall of shattered glass, passing the table that’s pushed up against it. I immediately recognize what was my suite of rooms in the castle, but it’s pure fucking pandemonium inside. I call on my long sword and clap the hilt to make it two weapons. I send out a pulse of Sentinel magic that sends fighters in my immediate vicinity flying through the air, and then I stop in my tracks as sky-blue eyes and blonde hair come walking toward me out of the crowd.

  I shake my head, trying to understand what I’m seeing. No. No, no, no, no, no… It’s not fucking possible. I take a step back and try to understand what’s happening. Laiken? How the fuck is my dead little sister here?

  29

  She walks slowly toward me, and I can feel a sob working its way up my throat.

  “How?” I ask her, lowering my weapons as I search her face for some kind of explanation.

  Her soft giggle fills my mind as she begs me to play the slap game. She places her small hands in mine, and I wait to pounce on her and tap her hands before she can pull them away. She laughs and laughs as I get her over and over again. We’re so carefree and happy in this moment that I never want it to end. I blink and that memory fades. I’m back in the field with the soft green grass and little white flowers.

  “I spread your ashes,” I tell her, stunned, as I try
to make sense of what’s going on, her happy giggle still ringing in my ears.

  Ory is in the background, spinning so fast that his wings are cutting people down. But I can’t focus on him or the other fights going on all around me—all I can see is her.

  Laiken doesn’t say anything as she closes the distance. The look in her eyes is hard, which confuses me even more. Why is she mad? But before I can ask her any of this, she shoves a sword through my chest. I gasp, shocked by the pain of the wound. The pain in my soul as my Laiken twists the blade and leans into me.

  “Die,” she growls at me, spittle flying from her rose pink lips to land on my tear-streaked cheeks.

  I choke on pain and sorrow as her hate-filled gaze bores into me. Gone are my memories of her sweet laugh and her kind voice. In this moment, as Laiken looks me in the eye and demands my death, all the good I know of her turns to ash in my mind. I’m so fucking confused, and everything inside of me feels like it’s fracturing.

  “No,” I plead, and I can’t tell if I’m answering her order or begging for this not to be happening.

  This isn’t right. None of this is right. Wake up, Vinna. Wake the fuck up!

  Laiken pulls the sword from my chest, a sickening smile on her face. She pulls her arm back, and I can tell from the angle that my little sister, my guardian angel, is about to cut off my head. My instincts scream for me to do something, and just as the blade arcs down toward me, I lift one hand to block it and shove my long sword through her throat with the other. I scream as I watch her eyes go from merciless to shocked. She collapses, and I let go of my weapons to catch her and pull her into my lap.

  Tears stream down my face and drip onto her as she gasps for air and chokes on her own blood.

  “I’m sorry. Oh fuck, I’m so sorry,” I tell her over and over again, my soul slowly being pulverized with each empty gasp she takes.

  I go to heal her wound, not caring if she tries to kill me again. I can’t just sit and watch her die. I can’t kill her. She’s my Little Laik. I reach up to her throat, but in a blink, I’m suddenly staring at a man.

 

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