Page 143 of Vicious Is My Throne

I was nothing but a fucking liability, weaving precariously on my feet, trying to keep my godsdamned balance with these wings.

To my right, Bex screamed again, then the mage was gone in a flash of light, a field mouse darting between the clawed, stomping feet and disappearing into the darkened hall, one of the creatures lunging after him, claws tearing gouges from the wood floor.

“Fucking coward,” Raz growled, surrounding us both with a shimmer of blue-black power. “We need to get Tavion out of that fucking rotten air before the bastard collapses.”

The wolf, tangled with what had formerly been Lord Whitehall, was well outside Anaria’s shield, black ash and blood coating his white fur, blighted veins already spreading over his back and head.

Four of the creatures circled us in perfect, synchronized steps as if they were accustomed to hunting in packs. “The Whitehall guards,” Raz muttered as he crouched lower, a knife gripped in one hand as he surveyed the room, angling his body as the rest closed in around us. “Every single one of them, from the looks of things.”

Because more and more monstrosities leapt into the library, turning our former refuge into a gauntlet of cruel, snapping jaws and lethal taloned feet. Ten, fifteen, twenty, and they still kept coming.

Raz sent out a frenetic burst of magic, shoring up Anaria’s shield, but rot coated my tongue, stinging my skin as Raz’s back pressed to mine, a move we’d done hundreds of times before, but with my wings, it turned into a death trap.

“We’re not going to make it, Raz,” I muttered, weaponless, magicless, barely able to keep my fucking balance. Every time I turned, I overcorrected. Twice I sideswiped Raz with a wing and nearly knocked him to the floor.

I was an incompetent fucking menace.

The absolute worst kind of ally in a fight like this.

But I could damn well become a blunt instrument—and these fuckers’ worst nightmare.

“I’ll make you an opening. Get to Tavion and fly him out of here. Take him to the palace and regroup with Tristan and Anaria.” I straightened, every strained, aching muscle making me work for it.

“She needs you more than me.” I took a deep breath. “You know I’m right. With your magic…you can help her fight, Raz.”

“I’m not leaving you here,” Raz said steadily, nothing but cold death on his face as he spun, snarling at the growing pack surrounding us. Too many to fight our way through, and the second this shield dissolved, they would crush us.

The castle shook beneath their weight as the creatures circled and snapped, Tavion pinned down by three of them, claws splintering the floor as he fought to throw them off. But they were too heavy.

The wolf’s blood-flecked fur was nearly black now, tongue lolling from gaping jaws, eyes rolling wildly. His jaws snapped, his body strained, but he was pinned down by too many taloned paws.

My blood began to roar. No.

The library shook, the air outside our shrinking bubble choked with ash, stained by that creeping darkness as if these beasts had been spawned by Corvus himself.

The room was crammed with so many bodies they could hardly move, jostling for position until Raz and I were crushed by a solid wall of snapping jaws and narrowed eyes, every clawed swipe opening up a rent in the failing shield.

Blight flowed in, my eyes burning as I grasped my friend’s arm.

“Listen to me, Raz. I don’t matter. But Anaria needs you and Tavion.” I gripped him tighter, willing him to listen for once. “Get her as far north as you can. Don’t let her lose faith in herself. Help her to finish this, Raz. She’s the only one who can.”

“Stop. Talking.” Raz lashed out with his knife, then drew back his hand, his forearm slashed to the bone. Then they were on us, a black wall of death. I was knocked backward, barely stopping a set of gnashing jaws, holding those teeth a scant inch from my throat.

Half the library was ablaze, the burning rug illuminated the stalking creatures’ eyes, those curved fangs, and I half wondered if this was what the Pit was like.

The creature sank its talons into my shoulder, pinning down my wing until no matter how hard I twisted, I couldn’t move. My knuckles turned to pulp as I pummeled my fist against the thick, blighted hide, fire scorching my side, my feathers, my face.

Beside me, Raz kicked and slashed, fighting like mad, but this was over.

Like the blight itself, we would be smothered beneath this tidal wave of black, and by the time these creatures moved on, there would be nothing left.

Blue light flashed overhead, barely visible between the churning bodies, and the room shook from a powerful surge of magic. The creature so determined to eat me retched then slumped over, legs twitching. I caught my breath, let my hands slip from its face, and watched the light fade from its dark eyes.

“Commander Vayle.” Bexley’s voice floated somewhere outside the chaos. “Zorander. Over here.”

I struggled to my feet, was knocked off balance, but managed to peer across the room. Bex stood in the doorway, blue magic glowing at his fingertips holding several snarling creatures at bay. “Hold up your hand and catch.”

I’d barely wrapped my head around what he’d said when he lobbed something through the air. Small and white, the object flew over the snapping mouths, through the swirling ash, past Raziel pinned down by one of the monsters gnawing on his bloodied forearm.

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