Page 29 of Heir of Broken Souls

Where one hand swings my dragon sword, decapitating the hounds’ heads, the other shoves into their chests, yanking out their rotted hearts. Aurora and Zephlyn protect my flank, snapping their razor-sharp teeth, until we meet up with Knox in the middle. Fury hardens his face as we behold his estate drenched in blood, his men fighting against the plague of dark magic, and the fallen bodies, pure souls lying beside reviving demons.

In the middle of the courtyard, Harlow transforms before my eyes from her small half-witch, half-Fae form to the very beasts they unleashed upon this crested hill. A dragon.

I’ve seen her take on a dragon form before, but never like this. She’s larger, sturdier, stronger. She’s indestructible. With scales as black as those thrumming with dark magic, she meets the demonic creatures as if she were death reincarnated.

Where she walks others fall.

And those that rush in from the sides are met with not only my and Knox’s blades but Lenox’s too as he joins the fold, pushing the demonic pests toward the cliffside where they no doubt flew in from. Though that begs the question,how did they get past Knox’s wards?

The thought is there and gone as sharp nails wrap around my wrist from my exposed side. A demonic hound snuck past Aurora and Zephlyn’s claws.

A slithering snake-like tongue darts out of its mouth, the rotting smell emanating from it making me instinctively recoil with a look of horror and disgust. The gleam in its gaze is one I have seen before over the passing weeks.

They’re always cocky and arrogant when they shouldn’t be.

I swipe a dagger from my thigh and strike, thrusting the blade into its eye socket. As it rips its hand away and roars in agony I twist the hilt, summoning as much pain as possible and black blood gushes from the socket.

“Fucking golden witch!” it spits, blindly clawing for me.

Ripping the hilt away, I raise my now free arm holding my dragon pommel sword and swing, arcing the blade high in the sky and careening it down in one fluid motion, cutting the hound in two right down to its clavicle.

The move silences its incessant high-pitched shrieking.

I go to remove the blade, only for a pair of familiar thick arms to wrap around my waist and pull, tugging me into the air.

Hold on, Angel, Knox calls down our bond.

Sucking in a sharp breath, I take in the scene before me. What was once Knox’s beautiful estate now lies in tatters, drenched in black and red, littered with mangled body parts of not only our enemies but also our fallen.

The demons that were left in one piece have begun to twitch, their revival starting. The remainder of Knox’s guards swing their blades with vigor, lobbing off their limbs, while others light a bonfire. They begin the satisfying task of throwing the demons into the raging fire, trying to prolong their summoning. The stench that reaches the sky from the black billowy smoke is like no other.

“What are you doing? They need help!”

Knox throws me in the air and Aurora catches me. A grunt flies from deep within my chest as I land on her back, Knox holding me from behind. “Was that really necessary?” I groan.

“They’ve infiltrated the docks!” Lenox bellows. Zephlyn and Harlow, still in her black-scaled dragon form, have already peeled away, flying down the hill.

It only takes a moment for Lenox’s words to process, why we’re abandoning the estate.

It was the distraction. The true target was the city of Azalea.

Darkness storms the once colorful and joyous city, now filled with terror and shrill, petrified screams. The sense of déjà vu hits. It’s as if I’m watching my vision come to life. The thought and sight is such an unsettling feeling I have to turn my head to the side and swallow down bile.

Knox’s voice is a hollow whisper but he projects it to the others. “Nolan is down by the front lines, leading the army we had stationed in case this was Peter’s plan.”

Harlow opens her jaw and roars, fire spitting from her mouth. Lenox turns to me, emotion fierce in his amber eyes, stunning me once more. The hatred we all feel simmering in our blood from all Peter has taken and done to us rises to a devastating high.

With that, Aurora plummets to the battle below, and with the limited time we have, I hold Knox’s arms to me, soaking in the warmth of his front pressed to my back.

“Please come back to me,” he says gutturally.

“So long as you do, I always will,” I whisper truthfully.

He plants a gentle kiss on top of my head, his lips lingering as we descend. “Make them pay, Angel,” he whispers.

As if the command was for my magic, not for me, it stirs, thrashing wildly within my veins. It anticipates its release, along with something else—something ancient and dangerously wicked and cruel.

A heady sensation fills me, a warmth washing over my body. The feeling isn’t new but I still dread it all the same because of how little I understand about it.