“Enough chatter. Shall we?” I throw a wink at Samael, who mutters under his breath, his arms undergoing a grotesque transformation. Flesh and bone contort in a vile display as his limbs morph into blackened blades. Clearly, he’s not planning to fight us without his magic. And I didn’t think he could look more ghastly, but apparently I was wrong.
I glance at Nyx. We both know what we have to do next. We need to get that mask off him. It might be enhancing his powers. We start circling him slowly. It’s two against one, but no one’s playing fair in this fight.
We both charge simultaneously, and as my blade clashes with his, a jolt of electricity courses through the metal, shocking me so intensely that I’m hurled back into a bookcase. I clutch my chest as my heart skips a beat. Nyx fares no better, thrown across the room and tumbling over the bed.
Recovering quickly, I lunge again, managing to nick his thigh. His smug smile vanishes, replaced by a tight press of his lips as he charges toward me. His arms revert to hands, conjuring an orb of dark power that he hurls in my direction. I dive out of the way in time, the orb colliding with the wall and sending debris flying as it obliterates the adjacent bathing chamber.
“I hope you’ve got more of that gold dust because you won’t be so tough once our magic returns,” Nyx growls, charging Samael. He grabs him by the waist, tackling him to the ground.Seizing the moment, I grip my sword and rush to join the fray. If Nyx can pin him down, I could end this—cut his throat. But Samael’s not done yet. He casts another spell that blasts us backward, shattering the windows around us.
I wipe blood from my face, my jaw clenched, as we circle him again. Nyx and I alternate attacks, and I manage to drive my blade deep into Samael’s calf. He staggers, yanking the sword free, and to my horror, the wound heals instantly.
“Do you see now? You cannot defeat me. Bend the knee, and perhaps I’ll let you live,” Samael taunts. “Maybe I’ll even let you watch as I take my new bride to bed.”
His words ignite a seething rage within me, a disgust for what he’s threatened against Lyra. I lunge at him again, but Nyx, driven by his own fury, beats me to it. He screams, tackling Samael to the ground with such force that it seems to catch him off guard.
A flicker of motion in the corner of my eye pulls my attention to the balcony door, which stands eerily open—had it been that way before? My focus snaps back as I see Nyx grappling with Samael, his fingers clawing at the mask, desperate to rip it free.
Then I see Athalda. My vision blurs momentarily, and as she raises a magically sparking spear over Nyx’s back, my body reacts before my mind can catch up, hurling myself over to shield him from the blow.
Nyx shoves me off, leaping to his feet, and as I stagger to my knees, the taste of blood in my mouth makes me cough. Nyx’s gaze meets mine, wide with a fear I’ve never seen in him before. “What were you thinking?” he bellows, his eyes darting from my face to my chest.
I force myself to look down where searing pain radiates from my core. The tip of the spear protrudes frommy armor, having pierced me from back to front. “I was thinking...I was saving your ass,” I choke out as I spit blood onto the floor.
Samael’s laughter fills the room, his claps sarcastic. I turn my head slowly to face my attacker, her marred face and dark, soulless eyes boring into me. “So we meet again, boy,” Athalda says, her voice dripping with venom as she surveys the damage she’s inflicted.
“You old fucking bitch,” I spit out, blood pooling at my lips. “Lyra took pity on you, and this is how you repay her?” My voice is ragged, edged with betrayal and pain.
“This is precisely how I repay her, all I’ve ever wanted is for her to reach her true potential,” Athalda cackles, a sound so vile I wince. “That girl was a fool to think banishing me was enough. Then you thought leaving a mortal boy guarding the bridge was a good idea.”
Soren is usually tasked with guarding the bridge. Fuck, I hope he’s okay. The cold metal of the spear shifts inside me as I attempt to breathe. “Maybe once you and King Onyx here are dead, she’ll finally unleash her full potential,” she muses with a twisted smirk.
I clench the spear with both hands, steeling myself to yank it out, but Nyx drops beside me, grabbing my wrist. “Don’t,” he hisses. “Without your magic to heal, pulling it out will make you bleed out in seconds.” He’s right, and as this sinks in, I realize how dire my situation is. Thoughts of Lyra flash through my mind—leaving her alone, not getting to say goodbye.
Samael’s mocking voice cuts through. “Are you going to tell me where my little bird is now? Should we wait for her to arrive before we finish this?” His words ignite a fury in me, but it’s Nyx who responds, voice thick with anger.
“Lyra’s not here, she’s not coming, and you’re never going to touch her again.” His glare shifts to Athalda, his expression oneof betrayal and rage. “Why?” he chokes out, barely able to articulate his shock as he stares at her.
“Please, don’t act like you haven’t wanted to do it yourself. You should be thanking me for eliminating the competition, not questioning why,” Athalda sneers, and I grit my teeth, feeling the life drain out of me, but I’m not ready to give up—not yet.
The world blurs around the edges, but I force myself to stand, each breath a battle against the spear impaling me. “If I’m going out, I’m not going alone,” I growl through clenched teeth, seizing Athalda’s throat before she can react.
Her smirk only ignites my rage further. I quickly scan the room for Samael, ensuring he isn’t positioning to strike from behind, and catch sight of him cornering Nyx.
Turning back to Athalda, I see her face growing paler under my grip. Despite this, she reaches out, her bony fingers cruelly twisting the spear inside me. A searing pain shoots through my entire body. I stagger, nearly collapsing, the spear’s metal grating agonizingly close to my heart.
In this moment of sheer agony, I lower my shields, searching for the tether that binds Lyra and me. Even diminished as I am, the connection pulses, a faint beacon between us. For a fleeting second, I’m surrounded by the essence of Lyra—the subtle sweetness of young roses and honeysuckle, so vivid that for a moment I forget the blood and the pain.
“You know, killing you is far easier than I thought it would be,” Athalda taunts, her voice echoing as if from afar.
I shut her out, focusing solely on that ethereal link to Lyra, clinging to the sensation of her presence. But reality bends around me, walls seemingly warping, as if the castle itself is collapsing—or perhaps it’s just my failing senses from the blood loss.
“It’s working. Get ready,” Athalda shoutsover me. I lack the strength to turn back to see Samael or Nyx, but they must be around behind me.
“Colton, no, keep your shields up!” Nyx yells urgently, but it’s already too late.
I feel it—the rage, pure and unfiltered, radiating through me as if it were my own. It steals my breath away. The entire castle starts to vibrate, a hum of energy that raises the hairs on my neck. Deep down, I recognize this power—it’s her, my shadow, my mate, and she is consumed with fury. As if summoned by my thoughts, the corner of the castle is ripped apart.
Rubble falls all around us as part of the roof is torn clean off, revealing the moon overhead. Athalda curses under her breath, and despite my wounds, a wave of satisfaction washes over me. I will live to see her end at the hands of my fierce mate.
