Page 4 of Midnight Reign
“No,” I croak. “No, no, no. Wait! Come back!”
The red mist swirls faster, obscuring my vision. I can barely see the standing stones now, their massive forms reduced to vague, looming shapes in the crimson fog. The smoke is thicker, too, making each breath a struggle.
I pull against the chains, ignoring the way they bite into my skin. But it’s useless. They’re as strong as ever, holding me firmly in place. I’m pinned here, unable to move, unable to escape. The knife in my chest pulses in time with my racing heart, hurting like fuck again, a constant reminder of the impossible situation I’m in.
What’s going to happen to me? Will I die here, alone in this red hell? Or will whatever magick Randall unleashed, keep mealive indefinitely, trapped in this moment of terror and pain? Was he supposed to kill me? Was I supposed to die?
The ground shakes again, more violently than before. Rocks and debris rain down around me. I close my eyes, bracing for impact, but nothing hits me. There’s a bubble of protection around me, keeping me safe even as the world crumbles.
Just when I think I can’t take anymore, when I’m sure I’ll lose my mind to the endless red and the constant pain, I hear something. A sound that doesn’t belong in this hellish landscape.
The fluttering of wings.
At first, I think I must be hallucinating. But then I hear it again, closer this time. My heart leaps in my chest, a surge of hope cutting through the fog of despair.
I strain my eyes, trying to see through the swirling red. A dark shape, small but fast, darting through the mist. As it gets closer, I can make out more details. Leathery wings, a small, furry body.
A bat.
“Corvus?” I whisper, hardly daring to believe it.
The bat circles once, twice, then dives towards me. Just before it reaches the stone I’m chained to, it begins to change. The small, winged form stretches and grows, reshaping itself in the blink of an eye.
Corvus crouches beside me, his face a blank mask as he stares down at me. “Adelaide.” His hand reaches out to touch my face. “What happened? Who did this to you?”
I try to speak, but all that comes out is a choked sob. The relief of seeing a familiar face, of not being alone anymore, is overwhelming. Tears stream down my face, cutting trails through the grime and blood.
Corvus’s eyes dart to the knife in my chest, his face paling. “Fuck,” he mutters. “It’s okay, okay? We need to get you out of here.”
He reaches for the chains, tugging at them experimentally. He hisses as they burn his palms, the stench of scorched flesh adding to the nausea that swills around my stomach. “Dammit,” he growls. Then he closes his eyes, and he breathes in deeply. “Zephyr, Ignatius, Zaiah. Come to me.”
For a moment, nothing happens. Then, there is a ripple in the air, like a wave of energy passing through the clearing.
“The others are coming,” he says, opening his eyes.
I nod, unable to form words. The knife in my chest seems to pulse harder at the mention of the others, as if it knows its time is limited. Each breath is a struggle now, the acrid smoke burning my lungs.
Corvus’s gaze is drawn back to the knife. I can see the conflict in his eyes. He knows it needs to come out, but he’s afraid of what might happen when it does.
“Adelaide,” he says softly, his hand hovering over the hilt. “I need to take it out.”
I close my eyes, bracing myself for death. The thought of more pain is almost unbearable, but I know it’s necessary. I give a small nod, granting permission.
Corvus takes a deep breath. I feel his hand wrap around the hilt of the knife, the slight pressure sending a fresh wave of pain through my body. I grit my teeth, preparing for the inevitable.
“I love you!” I blurt out.
“Fuck, Addy. I love you too,” he murmurs, and we lock gazes, his hand still gripping the handle of the knife but not moving.
3
CORVUS
“On three,”I say, trying to keep my voice steady, as I know we need to do this whichever way it will swing. She is in agony. I can feel it in my soul, and it hurts like fuck. “One...”
I don’t wait for three. It’s cruel but kinder in the long run. I grip the hilt firmly and pull the knife out in one swift motion.
Adelaide’s scream tears through me, raw and feral. It’s a sound I never want to hear ripped from her lips again. I watch her face contort in torment, feeling helpless and furious all at once.
