Page 106 of Cursed Shadows 2

He isn’t sorry. None of them are. It was never going to be one of them who was sacrificed. Together, they would have risked facing off with the mother dragon than turn against one of their own.

Daxeel keeps these brothers closer to himself than he keeps Caius. Brothers in soul are above brothers in blood, a reflected culture in Licht, and one Daxeel has known since his time at the barracks.

But Daxeel gives no more thought to it, because to think of any of them dying in the Sacrament is a vicious feeling in the chest, and so he lifts his hand—the dragon eye pinched between his gloved fingers—and calls off the search.

“Five.”

Rune curses under his breath.

In two steps, Samick advances. He watches him closely, his green eyes as pale as ice frosted over a glade. “Are youready?”

Dax cuts his stare to the hybrid who socks Rune on the arm. “You’ve got it?”

Dare pushes Rune aside just once before he slips out a phial from his trouser pocket. A phial with some drops of crimson blood. “One evate anchor, from me to you.”

Before he can toss it, a flutter of the lashes darkens golden eyes—then Dare whips his chin to the side. His nose wrinkles. Slowly, he draws in a breath deep enough to expand his chest.

Then, he exhales in a harsh growl, “Litalves.”

The song of metal whistles through the chamber as Rune whips out his sword, then steps forward, his eyes darting to the shadows of the tunnel. “They are coming.”

A mere heartbeat passes before the others pick up on the sound. The distant thunder of bootsteps pounding off stone. Not one set, not two, but at least a dozen light fae running up the tunnel towards the chamber.

“Now!” Rune’s voice bellows through the chamber and he throws a wild look at Dax. “Do it now!”

And he does.

Daxeel doesn’t wait for the anchor of Nari’s blood.

He can’t risk the litalves reaching them—so he brings the dragon eye to his mouth and whispers,“I am the dark, the dark is me. I offer Mother a piece of my soul.”

Daxeel’s heart stops.

Hesitation steals him.

He swallows, thick. “To speak to Mother, I offer her a sacrifice.” His whispered words are swallowed by the hole of the dragon eye. His lashes shut on ocean eyes, darkness stealing him whole as that final word escapes him like a choked breath and spears his chest with a screaming ache; “Evate.”

Time stops. And the darkness become something alien as he collapses to the ground.

A burst of air explodes in the cavern.

The force of it, like a violent wave crashing into a cliffside, is enough to throw the others off their balance. Then—

Shadows.

Shadows pummel Daxeel.

††††††

Thick shadows whirl around the limp body on the ground; darkness that’s come to life and devours Daxeel as fervently as the hatchlings consume Prit.

The chamber rumbles from the onslaught of vicious blackness. Stones and dust rain down on them, and they are blind in this new darkness.

Rapid bootsteps smack through the raging shadows. Brandishing his sword, Rune runs up to the edge of the tunnel’s mouth and presses his back to the shuddering stone.

And just as the group of light warriors come barrelling blind into the dark, Samick takes point on the other side. Dead-ice daggers in each fist, he moves first—and brings one down with precision.

It sinks into the curve of a shoulder, the tip of the blade piercing through a windpipe, then Samick rips it back out and slinks into the darkness.

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