Page 128 of Wrath of the Fae

All I hear is my breathing and the sound of my sword finding its mark.

And something else. That growling in my chest. The power humming in my ears. A pull in my chest that demands attention.

I reach out my hand and twitch my wrist. Three soldiers who have cornered a prisoner scream as their legs twist into a mangled mess. That young lad drives his sword through them all before looking at me, blood dripping down his face and bowing low before rushing off to fight more.

I find myself in the throne room. I stand there looking at those three chairs, the image of my mother sitting on it tainted forever by that fucker assaulting that human girl in front of everyone.

He looked right at me.

Jonah.Jonah!

Those wings are still there. Stolen.

The ground trembles beneath my feet and enormous cracks ripple through the stone and marble. Dozens of them spread outwards up the wall, across the ceilings. The thrones too. They explode, sending splinters of wood and gold in all directions, utterly obliterating them. The stained glass window explodes outwards, and the fire in the torches and the fireplace triples in size.

I turn and leave, the sword still in hand, and walk to the courtyard.

With a wave of my hand, the palace doors explode outwards.

The rain still falls. The thunderstorm continues to rage, which is unnatural for this Kingdom.

Everything is off balance. All of it.

I come face to face with a line of soldiers in white. Behind them is a line of winged warriors. There are dozens of those foul dog creatures on leashes, pulling and snapping their jaws at me.

Lucca’s head looms over my shoulder. His low growl rumbles through me.

Seeing his form, the soldiers take a step back. I reach up and stroke the fur beneath his chin as if he is nothing but a puppy.

Behind us, the freed Fae and humans gather. The soldiers outnumber us. Possibly by double, and they’re far more skilled fighters than those behind me.

The ground shakes with a firm thud, leaving a small crater beside me. To my left, Reid straightens up. His wings flex at his back, and a deadly glare tells me he’s already been killing today. His face is smeared with blood. In his hand are two swords which he twirls effortlessly in his palm.

‘Sorry we’re late, Little Bird,’ he says smoothly. ‘Ran into some trouble.’

Another thud to my right.

Cyrus stands tall and looks just as lethal as Reid. His eyes are on the small army ahead, and he too, is smothered in the war paint of death.

‘You left some for us. How thoughtful, my love.’ His swords are ready and already dripping red. He looks at me, anger stirring in those lethal eyes as he sees my injuries. ‘We brought your friends.’

There’s a low rumble in the distance that grows louder and louder with each second. The soldiers start to panic as they get attacked from behind. A surge of bodies pushes them towards us as the back end of the army tries to run. Above, wings swoop towards us. Valker. And I have never been so happy to see them.

‘Wolf sends his regards. Some army you’ve got there, Little Bird.’ Reid holds out my dagger. Our dagger. Our eternity blade. ‘This belongs to you. Use it.’

I turn to those behind me. They nod, one by one, terrified but determined to fight and die for their freedom.

Reid and Cyrus raise their weapons and bellow a glorious war cry before charging forwards. And every single one behind us joins them, running full throttle at the enemy.

The lost. The broken. The betrayed and traumatised.

Nothing is more dangerous in this world than devastated souls given a glimmer of hope.

And they show no mercy.

No one does. Not the Fae. Nor the humans.

The soldiers are hammered from both sides as well as from above, and I run into the mess without a hint of hesitation.

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