Page 295 of A Flame of the Phoenix

“You don’t have time to debate. The more people against her, the better. It’s pressure and distraction. Don’t let her leave with that ruin,” Reylan ordered.

The group didn’t falter, and all he could do was pray for their safety. Nyte left with them, though he wouldn’t risk trying to kill Marvellas with the ruin while Faythe wasn’t there. All they needed was to make sure the Spirit never got her hands on the ruin to be able to take it to Dakodas’s temple in the Fire Mountains.

He instructed a guard to seek any healer within the castle while he sat with Faythe. Reylan didn’t like being helpless and idle while his comrades were in action, but Faythe was his highest priority while she was vulnerable.

He looked over his mate, and it helped to soothe his sharp emotions punishing him for being too late to help her.

Jakon sat by the wall. Occasionally, his eyes would flick over Faythe, and Reylan wanted to believe her friend still cared deeply for her with his twitches of concern.

“You don’t have any idea why Marlowe would leave instruction to craft the ruin into a blade?” Reylan gently tried.

Jakon shrugged. It was clear only the shell of the man sat here without his wife.

“Makes the killing blow easier, I guess.”

Reylan stroked Faythe’s thigh absentmindedly, selfishly needing to ease his own anxiety at the thought of being here without her. He couldn’t fathom Jakon’s grief.

“I can’t express how sorry I am?—”

“Yeah.” Jakon cut him off.

Reylan didn’t take any offense to the brush-off. His condolence meant nothing.

“She still needs you. You know that, right?” Reylan said.

Jakon’s hollow gaze lifted to Faythe again. “‘Need’ isn’t the right word. She thinks she owes me something. I’m her guilty conscience.”

“You’re wrong.”

Jakon’s expression turned sour. “You might be her mate and all, but I’ve known her longer.”

Reylan didn’t argue that fact. His soul had entwined with Faythe’s centuries ago, but Jakon was right. In this life, he did have the blessing of knowing her far longer.

“War is too unpredictable to push away those you love.”

“Exactly. Unpredictable. One day you’re kissing your wife good night with a promising tomorrow. Then that tomorrow comes to snap her neck right in front of your eyes.”

Reylan’s jaw clenched to that brutal truth. He hadn’t had the time to get to know Faythe’s dearest friend well, but for what he meant to her, for all he’d done for her, Reylan harbored painand grief for Jakon’s suffering as though they were good friends themselves. He hoped they would be in time.

“You can’t bury Faythe before she’s even dead,” Reylan said.

“Maybe I’m burying myself.” He looked at the ground, the confession leaving him like it hadn’t meant to slip out of his thoughts.

Reylan said, “So long as we’re around, we’re not going to let that happen.”

CHAPTER SEVENTY-SIX

Zaiana

Zaiana arrived while the outskirt legion was forming their lines for the impending attack from the east. She surveyed the small field, rearranging the formations in her mind before she swooped down.

A rogue arrow fired in blind fear whizzed for her. Zaiana’s body twisted in the air, grabbing the arrow stick before she landed in a graceful crouch. Her eyes flashed up, finding the archer, who quivered with wide eyes on her. He fumbled for another arrow before Kyleer’s voice called out with sharp wrath.

“Stand down.”

They knew him at least. Though their armies had been informed about her and other potential dark fae allies like Tynan and Amaya, who accompanied her now, this soldier was nothing but an inexperienced, reckless fool.

Zaiana said, loud enough to catch the front lines, “If anyone else is prone to firing so thoughtlessly, lay down your bow now and move to the back of the lines before you get yourself, or a comrade, killed in a heartbeat.”

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