Page 92 of A Flame of the Phoenix

Zaiana chuckled darkly. “You’re a twisted bastard.”

Kyleer pulled her to him by her throat until she was balancing straight on the ledge, their bodies flush. His breath trickled along her lips.

“Still my most recurring, tormenting, beautiful nightmare,” he said, a husky murmur near lost in the whistle of winter air.

For a second, she thought he would kiss her, and she would let him, knowing the poison but consuming it anyway. His lips brushed hers. Then he pushed her of the roof, letting go completely.

Zaiana growled, releasing her wings to catch her, before landing in a crouch on the ground. Kyleer was already there, watching her with an amused, unbothered smile. Her anger was rising, having let this go on for too long.

“You’ve lost your lightning, haven’t you?”

Of course it would be obvious to him, to anyone, when she engaged in combat. It made her realize how much she’d leaned on her magick, but she would make him and everyone see she didn’t need human blood to be stronger, and she didn’t need magick to win.

Zaiana straightened, tunnelling herself deep into a focused battle calm. Kyleer was certainly an opponent she couldn’tunderestimate even if he didn’t use his Shadowporting. She assessed they were matched in battle knowledge and experience; it was just a matter of outwitting him in skill.

With Nilhlir gripped in one fist, she adjusted her stance and answered, “I don’t need it.”

Then she moved, as quick and silent as wind. Her advantages lay in her size and her speed, opposing his strength and broad stature.

Their steel clashed against each other, and she couldn’t explain the hypnotism that overcame her listening to the song of their blades. It was a battle melody unlike any other she’d engaged in before, and she began toenjoytheir dance.

He wasn’t going easy, but his attacks responded with a magnetism to hers. He swiped high; she bent low. She twisted around him; he spun to find her path effortlessly. The exertion began to ache through her bones, but she didn’t want it to end so quickly. Fighting Kyleer…she wasn’t thinking about striking him down. Not yet. She wanted to keep expending her bottled-up emotions because he could take it, let her cry and yell and release everything that killed inside, all of it pouring out through her blade, not her mouth.

“Be done with this.”

A loud voice broke through her trance, but she didn’t lose focus on Kyleer. She caught a glimpse of the Rhyenelle general carrying Faythe in his arms.

Kyleer must have too, because he faltered. Absolute dread then fury contorted his face, and that was his last mistake.

Zaiana knocked his sword from his right hand with a slam of hers. In the same breath, her left foot shifted for her middle to pivot, and her right foot kicked his chest hard enough to send him sprawling back. The impact might have even broken a rib or two.

Before he could even try to peel himself up, Zaiana straddled him and sent the pommel of her dagger into his temple to knock him unconscious.

When all had turned cold and still, Zaiana couldn’t move for a moment while the adrenaline dwindled. She was transported back to the cells in Rhyenelle with how similar this moment felt to the first time she’d bested him.

It hadn’t been as easy this time, but still…she expected more from him. Wished he hadn’t toyed with her and instead had poured his wrath and loathing over her.

Several sets of footsteps approached, and Zaiana suppressed her urge to snarl at the dark fae who’d come to take Kyleer. She could move him herself.

“Let’s go,” Reylan said from behind her. “You did well.”

Zaiana blinked at that. She’d never heard the small praise before, and it came from the most unlikely source. She forced herself to stand, not watching as the dark fae took Kyleer.

The general was so different from when she’d seen him all the times before. She scented Faythe’s blood before her eyes found the bruising puncture wound on her neck in shock.

What was more shocking was the ugly, horrible essence of the ruin she could feel from him. Faythe had managed to score his chest, and Zaiana shuddered to see the glow of it peeking through his black clothing.

It was absolutely astounding he still lived with it embedded into his chest. An extreme measure Zaiana never could have predicted by Marvellas, but it had worked for her. She didn’t doubt his mind would have been near impossible to warp to her mercy without it. But though she knew the general was powerful like Faythe, he shouldn’t still be alive.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

Reylan walked as he answered. “Back to Marvellas, of course.”

“Where is that?”

“Across the sea.”

He was being cryptic with his answers, but she couldn’t figure out if it was because he’d become a mindless soldier or if he lost his own capacity to engage normally.

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