His assessment took seconds, but the chaos raining downwarned mere seconds were too long. He wasn’t given time to gather a plan, only to pull his dagger, feed it power, build a shield around Rori as the first man lunged forward.
His blade struck clean through the man’s heart as another came at him from the side. And another. And another.
Within a moment’s breath, he’d become surrounded. Eight turned into ten, turned into a dozen. More appeared, their focus on Cael.
Thaddeus took a split second to reassess his position as the seething ache spread through his body from his chest. His power buckled. His strength began to wane. His last encounter had scarred him and he’d not completely healed.
Rori’s hand touched his forearm. “Thaddeus, please. Don’t.”
“The decision’s been made,storín.”
He picked his target, took his sword, and fought off another three as he moved agilely around Rori, holding his magic in place around her while dodging power blasts as quickly as he cut through Grison’s men.
But with each one who fell, two more appeared. The dead resurrected in an endless attack that fed the poison in his blood energy, sapping him of strength. A quick glance at his brother and he saw a similar phenomenon.
The first hint of blood seeped up the back of his throat. He coughed, the metallic taste filling his mouth. Warmth dribbled down his chin.
Silver sliced through his arm. He hissed, turning on the Fae who dealt the blow, and took his head with a single swipe of his stolen sword. He cut the blade down another’s torso, cleaving the Fae in half. Putting all his energy, his strength, into each blow, each parry, each defense, drove the foul curse into a frenzy, working faster within his system. The magic in his blade began to dull, and his moves slowed. Heat tickledhis nostrils just before he felt the warm, sticky wetness of blood trail from his nose.
“You won’t survive, Thaddeus,” one of the men taunted, a fanatical smile pulling at his mouth.
Thaddeus met him with his own icy grin. “I hold no expectations of living long.”
He struck forward, his blade flaring with a new flow of magic.
A force struck him in the side. He twisted, prepared to deal a lethal blow.
Rori gasped, arching into him. Her fingers dug into his shoulder, his chest, her eyes wide, wet. ’Twas at that moment he felt a new echo of pain in his side, and his gaze dropped to her waist.
A bloody fucking Fae pulled a short sword from her flank, crimson staining the steel blade, leaving a trail of drops along the floor.
Pulsing darkness exploded within, consuming any last bit of conscience left amidst his agony.
No one touches you.
“Don’t,” she whispered, her delicate forehead creased with pain. Pain he felt differently slicing through the cursed magic that was shredding him to pieces. Electric, searing, visceral pain that echoed her beating heart.
He barely heard her plea as his magic built like a storm determined to destroy the universe. His skin hummed, his blood burned with poison, froze with power, pulsed with each beat of his heart. Through his tunneled vision, he detected the Fae preparing for their synchronized death blow. Black smoky magic. Pulling back on their hands as they closed in on him.
“Thaddeus, stop!” Cael shouted.
’Twas too late.
Thaddeus braced his foot against the floor and thrust his arms forward on a roar that fractured the walls, brought dust raining from the ceiling, and unleashed a blinding white wave of power from the depths of his soul. It ripped away from his bones, tore through his skin, splintered through his veins.
As the last of his magic fled his palms, all of his strength fled on its heels. The light vanished, leaving a hazy impression of a familiar room. The hollow echoes of voices shouting. His body had gone numb, blood oozing from his mouth, his nose. He didn’t remember falling to his knees, but his body pitched forward. Somehow, he caught himself on his hands, his arms trembling. Agony of the worst kind consumed him, stealing his senses.
Until his head tilted upward with the help of two small hands and he focused on startling emerald eyes.
“You damn idiot!” she whimpered, her eyes flared with fright. Her pain, that which she suffered in silence—pain suffered needlessly for me—swirled within the emerald greens and falling tears.
He dropped his head as blood bubbled up his throat. ’Twas at that moment he saw the blood oozing from his scars on his chest, the black magic woven within his body painting gauzy ribbons across his skin.
Cael dropped to his knees beside Rori, magic ready on both palms. He reached for Rori’s wound with one, Thaddeus with the other.
Thaddeus scowled, drawing back, piercing Cael with cold warning. “I…can’t be healed. Waste a drop…on me, brother, and ’twill…be the last you do. Healher.”
Words were hard to speak against the flow of blood and the dimming world, the muscle-breaking torture and skin-scorching burn. He rocked on his hands and knees, his visionpulsing and fading a bit more. A battle waged in his brother’s expression, but he did as Thaddeus commanded.
