by Lynette Noni
Alex froze for only a microsecond before she heard the memory of Niyx’s voice float across her mind: ‘You will not, under any circumstances, engage him in battle.’
Spinning on her heel, Alex ran. Or, she attempted to. But his army was now blocking her, trapping her in place even as she stabbed and hacked at them, trying desperately to get through. When she saw it was no use, that they weren’t moving, she whirled back around—right in time for Aven to leap towards her with his terrifying black sword raised high above his head, swooping straight down at her.
The speed of his attack was so startling that Alex only just managed to raise A’enara in time to block him. The power behind his swing had her stumbling backwards and falling hard onto the bloodied cobblestones.
He didn’t let up, he didn’t pull back; he kept pressing down against her, his dark blade crossed with her light one as blue flames swirled from A’enara and sinister black flames engulfed his.
Still in her fallen position, Alex struggled to hold up against his strength as both blades edged closer and closer to her neck. Arms shaking as she panted from the effort, it was all she could do to keep him from beheading her.
“HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE?” he screamed, leaning into her face, heedless of both flaming blades. “I killed you! Thousands of years ago! You are mortal! You are human! HOW ARE YOU HERE?”
Alex had never felt such terror in her life. Sweat dripped down her temples, mixing with the blood and the tears that were still wet on her face from witnessing Lady Mystique’s death. She was paralysed by Aven’s fury, paralysed by his strength, paralysed by the absolute certainty that she was about to die.
“I KILLED YOU!” Aven shouted again. He, too, was panting, but not from the effort of matching his strength against hers. His was an effort of controlling his emotions.
Until, suddenly, it was like a screen shuttered over his expression, the rage and fury dissolving into an unnatural stillness. A perfect, icy calm.
Alex had thought she was terrified before. But looking into Aven’s beautiful, horrible eyes, she knew she’d been wrong. Because now she was staring into the face of death itself.
And death wanted her blood.
Aven no longer needed her explanations. He just needed her gone. And so, when he pulled his sword back and then flashed it forward again lightning-quick, she knew she didn’t stand a chance.
But as his dark blade speared towards her with a strength she knew she wouldn’t be able to block, a war cry rang out as Niyx leapt over her and slammed into Aven, forcing him back and deflecting the flaming sword in a shower of sparks.
Staggering to keep his footing, Aven’s icy calm faltered for a split second as betrayal washed over his features.
“You.” Aven’s raised sword gave a barely-there wobble as he faced his oldest friend. His throat bobbed before he managed to lock down his expression, and in a harsh but detached tone he said, “You were never Claimed, were you?”
Niyx offered three words in response, his voice low, lethal. “Not by you.”
Understanding hit Aven like a slap in the face and his raging eyes looked to Alex as, with another roar of fury, he lunged towards her again. But Niyx was there, blocking him, meeting him stroke for stroke.
Alex had never seen anything more frighteningly beautiful in her life than the sight of the two powerful Meyarins fighting each other in a blur of motion, surrounded by a bloody war of unending violence.
Rising shakily to her feet, she searched for a way to jump in and help Niyx, at least so that together they could push Aven back and earn themselves enough time to retreat on the Valispath. But whether from Niyx’s protection or Aven’s single-minded rage, neither of them gave her an opening.
What are you waiting for? Get out of here! Niyx screamed into her mind, somehow managing to communicate with her while defending against the thunderous force of Aven.
I’m not leaving you! Alex screamed back, knowing that the only way Niyx was holding up against Aven’s overwhelming power was because he could use the Eternal Path, while Aven’s feet were stuck firmly on the ground. But that didn’t seem much of a handicap, since Aven was unceasing in his attack, striking over and over again despite Niyx’s travelling manoeuvres.
JUST GO! he bellowed. I’m right behind you!
Alex knew that was a lie. She could see he was starting to buckle under the pressure of Aven’s devastating might.
Not caring how much Niyx would later yell at her for it, Alex ran forward, forcing her way past the Claimed Meyarins grabbing at her. She didn’t stop and think—she just launched herself through the air towards Aven’s back as he swung his sword in an underarm arc circling up to Niyx.
But, as if he’d planned the moment of Alex’s attack himself, Aven spun at the last second, his sword continuing to slice upwards on a kill stroke headed straight towards her heart.
Only, he didn’t make it that far.
Because Niyx appeared instantly in front of Alex and she crashed into him instead, just as he stopped Aven’s blade…
… with his own body.
Reeling backwards and then freezing in place, Alex couldn’t move when, with a sickening sound, Aven yanked his sword from Niyx’s chest and stood tall, staring at his former friend who appeared to be suspended in motion, not quite standing, not quite falling. But then Niyx’s arm lowered and his sword clattered onto the cobblestones as he stumbled a step sideways, trying to catch himself before he fell.
It was only then that Alex shoved aside her shock and leapt into motion, lunging forward to wrap her arms around him from behind. She couldn’t see the damage, but she refused to believe—she refused to believe—
“Thus is the price of betrayal,” Aven said softly, his voice like a caress as he looked piteously down at Niyx who was slumped in Alex’s arms, with her barely able to hold his heavy weight.
Aven ran his fingers lovingly along his silver-blooded, black-flamed sword as his glinting gaze came to her. “Vae’varka affords a swift death. Niyx will not suffer long. And nor shall you, dearest Aeylia.”
Delaying no longer, he sliced his sword towards her head. She didn’t have time to close her eyes, let alone attempt a defence against his weapon.
But when the dark blade was barely an inch from splitting Alex’s skull in two, a black shape surged into her peripheral vision, and she and Niyx were whirled away by Soraya in a blur of shadows and lightning, with Aven’s roar of fury echoing in their wake.
Thirty-Three
Soraya delivered them to the summit of Mount Paedris, right where Alex and Niyx trained every morning.
Disoriented by the rescue and stunned that she had escaped from being sawed in half, it took Alex a few seconds to realise Niyx wasn’t rising; to realise his body was like a dead weight on hers.
Having arrived so unexpectedly on top of the mountain, Alex was pinned under his back, so she quickly scooted out to kneel at his side, turning him carefully over to inspect the damage. She refused to consider Aven’s words about his weapon offering a swift death. Niyx wasn’t dying. He couldn’t be.
But as he looked up at her with glassy eyes set in an alarmingly pale face, his chest covered in silver blood as he panted short, shallow breaths, Alex knew it was much worse than she had imagined.
“Soraya,” Alex gasped. “I need you to go get me—”
She didn’t have to finish her request before the wolf disappeared, reappearing a few moments later with a bunch of laendra flowers in her mouth.
Slicing through Niyx’s clothes with A’enara, Alex ripped open the bulb of a flower with her teeth, her stomach churning as she saw the full extent of his injury. Hesitating only a second at the gruesome sight, she quickly smeared the nectar on his wound, silver against silver. She opened another flower, determinedly ignoring the four claw marks already scarring his chest and the déjà vu that washed over her at their repeated positions. Gently cradling his head, she murmured encouraging words to get him to open his mouth and drink.
He did so without complaint, all the while staring at her with knowing, apologetic eyes.
She didn’t understand the look until she realised that something was wrong.
His wound—it wasn’t healing.
“Kitten, there’s nothing you can do,” he rasped out.
“No,” Alex said with a firm shake of her head. She opened another bulb and lathered more laendra over his chest, certain that the extent of the damage just meant it was taking longer than normal to see any improvement. There was no Hyroa blood involved this time—nothing that should be keeping him from healing. “N-no, Niyx. You’re going to be fine. Just give it a moment.”
“I’m not, kitten. I’m dying.’
“You are not!” Alex was unable to keep the tears from welling in her eyes as she ripped off part of her undershirt, pressing it hard against his wound to stem the flow of blood. She winced when he winced, but she was still angry enough to reply, “I’ll Claim you again myself if I have to!”
“You know that won’t work,” he said quietly—and he was right. She couldn’t share her life force again with him, since they were technically already connected.
“Doesn’t matter,” she said, ignoring the full-body trembles that began shaking her frame. “You won’t need it anyway. You’ll be better any second now.”
“Aeylia, sweetheart, look at me,” Niyx said in a soft, gentle voice at odds with the pain in his amethyst eyes. It was enough to make Alex curl in on herself, but she still did as he asked and met his gaze.
Unable to keep the fear from her tone, she whispered, “Why aren’t you healing?”
His apologetic, knowing look returned, much clearer this time.
“Aven’s sword—” He stopped to hack out a horrible, gurgling cough that had Alex clutching at his torso to keep him still. “Vae’varka—it’s made from traesos, pure darkness.” He wheezed in a rasping breath. “To a Meyarin, its effects are worse than Sarnaph blood, and much swifter. Even if he’d just scratched me, it still would have been enough to—enough to—”
He started coughing again, and Alex leaned over him, dribbling more laendra into his mouth once his hacking eased. She was determined that the flower would take effect soon. It had to.
“Shhhh,” she told him, tears streaming silently down her cheeks. “Just—Just stop talking and save your strength, okay? Let the laendra work.”
He didn’t listen to her. He rarely did.
“I always knew I would die for you, kitten.”
Agony. Like a blade piercing her heart, all Alex felt at his words was pure agony.
She inhaled on a sob and ripped off more of her undershirt, switching it with the first blood-drenched wad of material as she forced words past the lump in her throat, refusing to believe that he might be right. “Quiet, Niyx.”
Again, he didn’t listen.
“I once told you that I sacrificed everything for you,” he whispered, his cold hands reaching weakly to rest atop hers on his chest, silver blood swiftly covering them both. “But you have to know, kitten, I would do it all over again for a thousand lifetimes if it meant the privilege of knowing you.”
“P-please, Niyx, s-stop talking,” Alex told him, now crying openly. “Y-you’re going t-to be f-fine.”
He coughed again, his whole torso convulsing under her hands. But even then he didn’t stop speaking. “Tell Mayra—” Another hacking breath. “Tell my sister that I love her. And that I’m sorry.”
Alex could barely see him through her tears. “T-tell her y-yourself.”
Niyx moved one blood-soaked hand until it cupped her cheek, his beautiful eyes shining as he stared up at her and whispered, “I’m so proud of you, Alexandra Jennings. So incredibly proud.”
“N-Niyx—” She choked on a sob and held his hand close to her face. “D-don’t—You c-can’t—”
His eyes unfocused and his voice faded until it was almost inaudible. “I’ll always be with you, kitten. For as long as there are stars in the sky.”
And with that, his hand became limp, his eyes drifted closed, and his chest lay still beneath her.
“N-n-no!” Alex cried, clutching at him. “P-please, Niyx! You c-can’t leave me!”
But he didn’t move. He remained still under her hands.
Lifeless.
“N-no-no-no,” Alex whispered, her voice breaking as she wrapped her arms around him, heedless of how much more blood was soaking into her clothes. “No, p-please, no!”
But no matter how much she begged, no matter how many tears she cried, she couldn’t deny the truth.
Niyx was dead.
He’d given his life to save hers, protecting her until the very end.
Alex cried over Niyx’s body for hours.
Soraya nuzzled in at her side, howling her own lament as the two of them stayed in a grieving vigil beside him while the sun swept across the sky.
Eventually the physical and emotional backlash of everything Alex had been through that weekend caught up with her, from her fight against Trell, to her abduction and torture, to the battle at Graevale, to the devastation of losing not only William and Lady Mystique, but also Niyx, someone so precious to her that she didn’t know how she would survive without him. Overwhelmed, and also with the energy boost from the haesondel having left her system, exhaustion crashed over Alex as she cried herself into a restless sleep.
When she awoke later with her body snuggled into Soraya’s heat, it was with a much clearer head. She was able to move past the paralysing force of her grief and into a state of numbness that allowed her to recognise that it would soon be dark, and even with her Myrox-lined armour and Soraya’s thick coat protecting her, she couldn’t remain out in the cold. It was time to start moving, time to find out what had happened at Graevale after they’d left, time to make sure Caspar Lennox and Soraya had delivered her friends to safety, time to discover what horrible nightmare she would have to face next.
But before she was ready to do any of that, Alex first needed to see to Niyx.
Kneeling on the icy summit of Mount Paedris, Alex dug with her bare hands until her fingers blistered, and then kept digging as the packed snow eventually gave way to rocky ground. She was numb to the pain, physically and emotionally, focused only on the single task of laying her friend to rest in a place that was special to the both of them.
If she’d thought it would be safe, she would have returned him to their spot on the Golden Cliffs overlooking Meya, the place where she’d Claimed him. But he never would have forgiven her for risking her life like that, so Mount Paedris would have to do. He liked it here, she knew, with the view looking out over the academy, looking out over Medora. Unlike in life, in death he would be free, the entire world at his feet.
With another sob tearing from her throat, Alex continued digging, quashing the emotion and allowing the numbness to take hold again as Soraya joined her, adding her wolfy claws to help scrape away at the rocky dirt.
Alex’s nails became ragged edges. Frostbite started licking at her fingers and her skin cracked open with oozing, bloodied wounds. But she didn’t stop. She kept digging with a single-minded purpose.
When the grave was deep enough, she hardened her heart to gently—so very gently—lower Niyx down into it.
Heedless of her damaged hands, she placed the remainder of the laendra flowers on his chest, covering the evidence of his unhealed wound. Looking like this, she could almost imagine he was sleeping.
In a voice so broken that Soraya gave a soft whimper at hearing it, Alex looked down at him and whispered, “I’ll never forget you, Niyx Raedon. I c-can’t—” She sucked in a quick breath and pushed through her sorrow. “I can’t imagine life without you, but I swear by your stars that I’ll do everything I can to make sure the sacrifices you made for me weren’t in vain. What you did—What you gave—I promise to make it count.”
And with her oath, Alex gazed upon Niyx’s beautiful face one last time before she began to cover him, knowing that in doing so, the world ha
d just lost a spark of light that could never be replaced.
Alex sat by Niyx’s grave until the sun began setting properly in the sky, unable to bring herself to move just yet. But when Soraya, who had been nothing but patient and comforting for hours, started to become restless, Alex knew it was time to leave.
She had no idea where to go or what to do, her numbness having spread to every part of her being.
Incapable of making a decision, she trusted her wolf to know more than she did, and she reached out to wrap her fingers in Soraya’s ruff while whispering, “Please take me wherever I need to go.”
With an explosion of light and dark, the Shadow Wolf swept her away from Mount Paedris—away from Niyx—only to deliver her straight into the middle of the Tryllin palace’s war room.
Their new surroundings would have come as a shock if Alex had been able to feel anything through her heartache. But as it was, she could barely manage the smallest flicker of surprise as she took in those present in the room, all yelling at each other.
The human council was there, the king and queen, as well as Advisor Jaxon, all at the head of the oval table. Also in place were Commander Nisha, Jeera, Drock and Tyson—the four of them having seen better days, their skin and armour smeared with almost as much blood and grime as Alex.
There were others in the room—the three Shadow Walker elders; Kaysia of the Dayriders; Tork and Glyn of the Flips; and Mareek and Tibbs of the Jarnocks. They looked as awful as everyone else, something Alex took in with detached eyes.
The yelling ceased when her presence became noticed, and everyone turned to stare at her, watching as she swayed on the spot with Soraya protectively pressed against her side in silent, strong support.
It was Jeera who moved first, leaping out of her seat and hurrying over, ignoring Jaxon’s disgruntled murmur of, “What is she doing here?”
“Alex,” Jeera said, the relief evident in her voice. “We thought you were dead.”
Part of her was. Part of her was buried in a shallow grave on the summit of Mount Paedris.