Grison was not within his humble hideaway. The chamber was unoccupied.
Shaye came up behind him and shook his head. Naught. Other than a few ill-placed Fae, they’d come up empty.
That left the hall.
Thaddeus twirled a finger, indicating they should circle back to the main tunnel.
A muffled scream filtered through the crackling air, which masked its direction. Thaddeus’s heart sped up as he spun back to the branch-off, Grison’s quarters, the short pathway with that single door.
That scream. It came from within the rock, echoing through the walls.
Thaddeus smacked his hand to the wall and tried to tear away any illusions that may be in place. Naught budged. He built his power through his palms, pulling the energy from his blood, his body humming as its strength grew.
A breeze hit his legs. He dropped his attention to the floor. Shaye beat him, spreading his magic in a wave down the tunnel, revealing a web of flickering silver that spread straight up the rock and pulsed.
Thaddeus sprang ahead, unleashing a blast of magic that burrowed through the rock, shaking the tunnel, breaking chunks of material and plumes of dirt and dust from the main structure.
Pressure released back into him the moment the hole opened through the barrier. The dull flicker of firelightpoured into the tunnel. He sifted into this secreted room, manifesting beside the crude firepit.
He whirled around, subfreezing cold setting frost alight in his blood. A deep red hue filtered over his sight, throbbing in time with his steady heartbeat.
He struck, fist bunching the sodden and moldy fabric at the dead man’s back. One sharp tug pulled him off Rori. Arced him over his head. Thaddeus whipped out his dagger upon the corpse’s descent, punching him down into the fire. Sparks exploded, the flames reaching for the ceiling. A sickening crack sang out, Rich’s head snapping up and back at an unnatural angle, caught against the edge of the pit’s stone rim. Flesh bunched over the stone, exposing the broken-down muscle beneath. Milky eyes rotated back to him.
“Mine,” the corpse rasped.
Thaddeus slammed his dagger straight through its back, its heart, delighting in the shudder of the organ around his blade. The imbued magic within the blade soaked through the corpse, destroying Grison’s spell.
A final breath wheezed out of deflating lungs. The body went limp, flames catching on the clothing, charring areas of skin, filling the air with the potent scent of burning flesh.
“Rori,” he whispered, twisting back to where his woman lay. Shaye had already gathered her off the ground, thin strands of magic webbing across her throat and down her body. Mindless with worry, he snatched Rori from Shaye, pulling her tight to him, covering her with his arms, his hands. She clung to him, her small frame wracked with tremors, the suffocating scent of fear heavy and tenacious, mixed with a tinge of rot.
Combing a hand up into her hair, he pressed a hard kiss to the top of her head, tipped her face to him, and kissed her mouth.
“You’re safe,storín. You’re safe. I’m here,” he cooed, pumping her full of soothing warmth and healing power. Goddess, seeing her so distraught, reliving a nightmare he had done away with, tore at his soul. “There will be no more. No more fear, love.”
He never wanted to live more than he did now. To forever protect his sweet little Rori from the world and its frights. To ensure she would always be safe.
The fury had stifled momentarily, and rebounded with a dark, malicious hunger, stirring the air. Debris and dirt scraped over the floor as his power intensified, funneling any and every loose scrap and object into a growing whirlwind. He lifted his gaze over Rori’s head, leveling it on Shaye. Bloody Shaye, shaking his head, warning him to cease before he lost control.
Slowly, he loosened his embrace as Rori’s tremors eased and guided her back to Shaye. Her fiery red hair whipped around her face, the torn and tattered skirts of her emerald gown tangling around her pale legs. Her brows furrowed, her fingers refusing to release the swath of his tunic.
“No, Thaddeus. Let’s just go. It’s over,” she pleaded, her eyes brimming with hope. “I want to go home.”
“You will, my love.” He cupped her cheek, burning the softness of her skin into his memory. The gleam of green in her eyes. The part of her pillowy lips. He stroked the curve of her cheekbone with his thumb, placed one more kiss to her mouth, and smiled. “Shaye will take you home.”
Shaye shoved him back, wedging between him and Rori. He bunched the tunic beneath his chin and bore a fierce gaze into his bloody soul. “Thaddeus, I feel your rage brewing. Control yourself.” He lowered his voice to a whispered grouse. “Don’tdothis.”
Thaddeus snickered.
“Take her home, Shaye. Grison chose his path, as have I.” Thaddeus clapped the back of Shaye’s neck, yanking his forehead to Thaddeus’s. “Would you let him go if Rori were Moira?”
Shaye grimaced, his eyes narrowing. “For Rori. Stick with our plan.” His teeth clenched on a hiss. “Please.”
“If we’re wrong about death, if Fae are reborn, I will beg the Goddess to give me a second chance at our friendship.” He squeezed the back of Shaye’s neck. “It ends this eve.”
Thaddeus propelled Shaye back, sending the man stumbling. He grabbed Rori, stole a final kiss, pressed her into Shaye and sifted back to his chambers in the castle. The room barely manifested around them when he cast a barrier spell, breaking the pathway to the hideaway, and he alone returned to face his final battle.
This eve, all will end.
