Page 64 of Wrath of the Fae

But there’s no time to panic about that yet.

I turn to face that strange flickering light and feel whatever grips my heart constrict.

The way I came through is blocked. I have no choice. Deeper I go, towards the light.

Gripping my dagger, I get closer. The wind returns. My hair whips across my face, and the light flickers so much that I squint.

Ahead is an ornate doorway. Two wings are carved into the stone, one on each side and meeting in the middle.

I step through and stare at a swirling black mass. It’s so violent and fast, twisting and writhing. The darkness billows the flames of the torches lining the walls and blocks out their light each time it passes them, causing that strange flickering. I throw my hand over my eyes, protecting my face.

It groans again, and the cave violently tremors. The ground below me splits, and I leap out of its path.

This whole place is going to come down!

That groan gets louder and louder. It’s deafening! I throw my hands over my ears and try to see what the fuck is going on through the swirling blackness.

I catch a glimpse of the archway. The blackness wraps itself around the structure and hurtles into it with such force the whole thing cracks. I stagger as the room trembles again, and my feet hit something.

I look down. It’s a First Kingdom soldier’s head. His flesh dangles from his neck, and I know it’s been torn off. Not cut. As I look, I see an arm. Then a leg. A torso, too, bloody and mutilated. Pieces of the survivors I saw in that strange vision litter the ground. Blood stains every surface. The floor. The walls. The ceiling! They’ve been torn to pieces.

They were alive only moments ago. Blood is still pouring from their many parts.

Only a beast or animal could inflict damage like this.

Something dark. Something dangerous.

The arch explodes, and lumps of it fly in all directions. The force of it throws me back, and I slam into the wall, hitting my head.

I slump to the ground, dazed and sick, but feel the pull of the arch and its grip on me disappear instantly.

The blackness slows and starts to shrink. Through my double vision, I see a figure standing on the other side of the cave. The blackness… it’s seeping into him. His hands are outstretched as he summons it back.

The arch has been completely obliterated. Not just into chunks but dust.

Nothing is left.

I stare at that figure, dressed in First Kingdom clothing, and blink.

That blackness is smoke. The soldier reclaims it all, and the room falls silent as he rolls his neck and shoulders. His eyes are closed, and he lets out a heavy sigh that echoes off the wall. His head falls forwards as he continues to catch his breath.

He looks down at the severed head of the man by his feet and slams his boot into it, squishing it like it’s a piece of fucking fruit.

‘Try fixing it now, mother fucker,’ he snarls.

I shift. The sound of me moving has his head shooting up.

His blood-soaked face is cold and emotionless. His eyes are bloodshot and tired. Blood drips from his hands and clothes.

I take a shaky breath.

‘Cyrus…’

twelve

It’sasiftimehas stopped. Cyrus just stands there. Blood-soaked and still. The same man physically, but so twisted and cold in his stare and stance.

Tessa’s words ring in my ears.

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