Page 99 of The Coven of Ruin
“Only if you swear not to waste your magic trying to heal me and that you’ll run.”
“Deal,” she breathed. Taking his hand in hers and tethering herself to him with what little magic she had left, she moved toward the trees.
He followed with faltering steps. “What are you doing, witch,” he muttered, trying to pull his hand away from hers.
“Running.”
She guided them toward the forest’s edge. The trees loomed in front of them. Tendrils of power reached out for her again, tracing the angles of her face. She slowed and then halted as it took her in.
“Please,” she begged the woods and whoever protected it. She would give anything. And yet a part of her knew they were both dying no matter where they went. But maybe if they could keep safe, someone would find them or—
I do not make bargains, little one. You may enter, but the ruinous god may not.The voice was soft like silk petals and gentle streams.
“He is good,” Trista argued with the wood.
Ares mumbled something behind her that sounded like, ‘leave me.’
He is cursed. Damned. Poisonous.
“We aredying.” A plea.
The magic enveloped her and then reached out beyond her toward Ares. The rustling of leaves were the whispers of conferring beings. And then, finally, the magic receded.
You are responsible for his heart?The trees swayed, the rustling intensifying.
She wasn’t sure what it was asking exactly, but desperation led her to answer. “Yes, I am.”
Come then and bring your god of war. Rest.
Chapter XLIII
Hermagicdiedthemoment they stepped inside. The woods were much darker than the clearing. At first, she merely stood in its embrace, her heart threatening to beat out of her chest. After everything, the dark still scared her.
But there was no point in being afraid of it when she was so close to death.
Beyond the boundary of the forest, the shouts of approaching mages reminded her why they were there, but it was a gentle push of breeze that made her step forward again.
Ares didn’t, though. Instead, he turned to leave, to fight until he couldn’t anymore.
Placing her hand on top of his, she could feel the curl of his hand around his sword’s hilt. “You swore.” They couldn’t see each other, but he didn’t move. “Stay with me,” she breathed.
A long moment passed before he moved to sheathe his blade. Without her magic to keep either of them stable or to light the way, they were left to stagger forward. She snaked her arm around his midsection, the wound in her side shooting sharp stabs of pain outward as she did. He slung an arm around her shoulders, and they leaned on each other as they moved.
They were encompassed by the forest. Creaking and groaning, whispering leaves—the trees marked them as they entered. A greenish glimmer lit up close to her face and then another until dozens of glowing critters were alighting the path before them. And, like ushers, they guided them.
She wasn’t sure what kept them moving further into the woods, but as the pulsing luminescence of the winged lights faded for the last time, they were both too weary to continue. Being surrounded by thick trunks covered in blankets of moss seemed like as good a place as any to die. Ares unbuckled the leather sheath and took off his sword. Propping it against a tree, he lowered himself to the ground.
She crouched beside him, her vision swimming and then clearing again. “Here,” she said gently, grabbing the arrow shaft stuck in his back.
“Leave it, witch.”
A groaning sounded from the trees as if they were attempting to uproot themselves and move. But then moonlight cut through the tops, lighting the area around them. His gaze was on her already, and it was full of soft firestorms.
“Might as well be comfortable,” she murmured.
He snorted quietly but conceded with a single nod of his head. She made quick work of pulling the arrow out and tossed it away. He let out a grunt but then leaned heavily against the tree. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath.
“Grae?” he finally asked, opening his eyes again.
