Page 231 of Dirty Hit

“Stand and protect your rightful king!” a general yelled.

These were not her allies. They were Malin’s. They’d chosen their side, and Faythe had discarded her mercy.

“Then let me show you how a king slayer earns their name with purpose, not cowardice.”

Faythe’s grip on the Soul Ruin sliced into her palm. Her blood trickled down the jagged slate, which roared with renewed life at the taste of her spilled life force. The power surging through her became too restless and furious, and Faythe charged forward to hunt for her enemy instead.

Bodies moved to stop her, but they were only animated shades of gold to her now, one touch away from becoming dust by her hand.

Faythe would gild the whole world if she had to.

Phoenixfyre blasted through a band of fae soldiers in black. Jakon rode Atherius above, making sure she would make it inside. For Marlowe, their vengeance and grief came together.

She didn’t know who she was under this surge of raw anguish and action. Every slash of magick that cut down a person barely released the agonizing web of suffering that spread within her.

Faythe used her magick like a lasso, decapitating one adversary while another gold whip spun around the feet of a foe on her right. He crashed to the ground before the rope of magickanimated into a golden snake that lunged for his throat. Faythe’s magick was no one thing; it became a whip, a snake, a blade, an arrow. She knew nothing but the obstacle of never-ending bodies she had to eliminate to breach the walls ofhercastle and slay the false king within it.

The first to clash steel with one of her attackers spiked hot determination through her. Until she made out the face through the gold mists storming around her. She met the one set of deep blue eyes that were striking enough to reach her through the fire that raged within.

“Reylan,” she breathed.

His eyes softened in acknowledgment, but they had no time to pause in the thick of their enemies.

Reylan used fire to strike the foes behind her, and Faythe dove back into her focused calm to fight in harmony with him. They moved like magnets, covering each other, getting closer to their destination.

Faythe would have gotten there alone, and she wasn’t afraid of the immense power she harnessed, but she was so grateful to have the other half of her soul fighting by her side.

“That ruin is as much a danger as it is an asset to you,”he warned through their mental link as they fought unfalteringly.

“I can handle it.”

They both knew that was uncertain.

When Faythe next turned, by chance her eyes caught on the hilt of another sword tucked into Reylan’s belt. She gasped, twisting around him, pulling Lumarias free and slicing the sharp blade across the neck of her next target in the same breath.

The weight of her sword between her palms was like the first time—when Jakon presented it to her in their humble hut. She held the blade aloft, inspired, with an unexplainable charge of energy running through her chest as if Marlowe had forged the steel with a piece of her spirit.

“You’re always with me,” Faythe whispered.

Reylan fought around her, but the soldiers had started to ease off, frightened of the tempest of light spinning around her. Phoenixfyre blasted in front of her, and a wave of searing heat slicked her skin, flaring the ruby on her amulet. When the flames died out, leaving only charred ashes, Jakon and Atherius had cleared the rest of the path into the castle.

She exchanged one affirming look with Reylan, and they ran up the steps.

They fought any guard within the walls who wouldn’t back down at the warning Reylan tried to give each one. Some people they came across made him hesitate more than others, and Faythe realized some of them who’d chosen to be loyal to Malin were those Reylan had once fought with side by side. Lived in and protected this kingdom as allies.

Reylan slammed a fae male to the wall. He was frightening in his battle focus.

“Where is Malin?” he snarled.

“You’re just as much of a traitor to this kingdom as she is,” the fae spat back.

Reylan snapped his neck in a split second of rage. “He’ll be protecting himself in the throne room,” Reylan said coldly, not looking at her as he stormed past.

The doors were sealed shut, guarded by a dozen fae, which told Faythe he was right.

Before Reylan could advance, seeing the painful recognition on his face again, Faythe stepped in first to eliminate them. She coated her soul in ice, tapped into the power of the ruin tucked in her coat, and reached into the minds of them all, shattering them with a thought.

They all collapsed into a heap, and Faythe couldn’t bear to meet Reylan’s stare that branded her. She marched forward, stepping over the bodies and bracing a hand on each of thedoors. With all her strength, they pushed open, announcing her arrival in a groaning whoosh of air. The moment she saw her wretched cousin high up the dais atop the Phoenix throne, she almost lost her complete composure and sanity.

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