Page 164 of Commanding Flame and Shield
He pulled me against his body one more time, clapping my back. Then he dove into the fray, Fae a phantom on his heels, her white ponytail billowing in the wind. I leapt onto a rock nearby, gaining the vantage point.
Sky fracturing with lightning, thunder roared, so close and immense that the boom reverberated through my body. Not lightning. Not lightning at all. But a portal. Blinding white flashes—three in a row—and three equally blinding rays of light shone on the ground between August and me. I staggered back and swore under my breath. Thanked all that was holy.
Standing before me, in full spirit armor, stood Brody, Ajax and Alastair, surrounded by a dozen unfamiliar faces. Out of the light, they emerged like Greek God’s, summoned to a killing field, weapons already drawn. Grayshell…later, I’d think of it later.
Perhaps those prayers we were all muttering were working after all.
Feral joy filled my heart, and I knew it showed in the grin I flashed them, before diving back into the brawl. The three brothers were death incarnate. Saraya’s rivals to Ansel and Aren in the sparring ring, and they brought reinforcements. Not many. But it was something. It was with that small comfort that I hurled myself towards our coven.
What I wouldn’t have given to still have both of my swords.
The tormentors were tearing us to pieces, and it was with horror that I reached back to realize my quiver was finally hollow. My small stash of throwing knives would do no good against the beasts—their rippling muscles would only be aggravated. Hurriedly, I slung my bow across my body and dove into the chaos. There would be arrows to collect. Obediently, my legs sprinted full force across the field of battle and bodies, and sprays of blood.
They were converging on Aren and August, now guarding our Ansel.Ansel. I stuffed down the wave of nausea at the sight of that lethal soul soaked in crimson. His own blood.Jesus Christ. My hand shook as it covered my mouth.
My ax spun across the gap, and met its mark, drawing their ire.
One lunged, and my parry allowed me to see the hatchet embedded in its comrade. I dove forward, summersaulting across the ground, and heaved the thing free, spraying that inky blood everywhere.
August was engaged with another blood wolf, with Renown rapidly closing in. He advanced. Relentless.
Ares, made flesh.
The rest of our force seemed to be retreating. Returning intuitively towards our Commander. Our numbers were dwindling at a terrifying rate. If something didn’t shift, this battle would leave us enslaved by sunset.Dead, I corrected.
Still, I refused to yield.
I whirled to see the tormentor hadn’t been aiming for me—but Aren. My feet moved over bodies, but it felt slow as sand as I ran for him. Three of the beasts were converging from all sides. The last standing defender between them, and Ansel. His powerful blood calling them like a siren’s song.
Aren, a wall of ancient power and rage, did not yield.
One dove, and I hurled the hatchet with all I had. It met home, embedded in the neck of the first as it tumbled earth bound.
The scream tore from my chest as Aren spun with the attack, the second tormentor’s gnashing teeth embedded in his side. Aren roared as he staggered with the force of the assault, barely keeping his footing as he raised his sword. I sprinted the distance between us and heaved my blade down through the creature’s spine with a crunch that reverberated up to my palm.
Aren’s sword and my own both withdrew with a sick, meaty slide, as he kicked the tormentors corporeal form to the ground. Darkness oozed around it, that rancid tar-like blood soaking into the earth.
Too many. There were still too many of them.
We whirled, and both raised our swords to slice through the underbelly of one that had lunged for his head. As it slid down our swords, the weight ripped them from our grasps, the wild thing still flipping its head, gnashing its teeth, and striking out with those fatal taloned paws. One sliced a thick line across my shoulder, but I’d lost all sensation ages ago. A black and silver bolt shot through its eye, and I found Alec, on his knees by Ansel, crossbow now held in his steady, bloody hands. I didn’t think of where he’d gotten it.
One nod of thanks, and I was moving, kicking the thing over to seize our blades.
Aren gave a disgusted, pained grunt, and wrapped his hand over the blossoming crimson on his side. “Go!” He barked. I didn’t let myself think. Didn’t stare too hard at the gaping wound in his side. I just whirled, eyes scouring for where to go. Horrible dread twisted oily tendrils around my heart, my throat. Slithered around my body.
August. Where was August?
SIXTY-NINE
LAMB
AUGUST
Eyes burning, I surveyed the killing field, tamping down the grief in my heart. The Renown were advancing. The tormentors. Hell, the tormentors. Teeth as long as my thumb, canines even longer, their maws tore into still more souls. Horror consumed my body as I saw them fall under coordinated strikes. Their staggering numbers were still too vast. At least so long as the tormentors stood. With no SOS to our neighboring hierarchies, we would indeed fall.
The world seemed to slow around me, body numb as reality soaked the muscles with the blood seeping through each scrap of fabric. So fast, the chaos had erupted. Too fast. We’d lost our lines the moment the blood wolves tore that hole through the center.
Aren and Alvara were a good hundred yards away, their backs to each other as they defended the healers, now miraculously kneeling over Ansel. Aren…God dammit,Arenwas bleeding, an arm wrapped around a wound in his side. Alvara was so blood soaked there was no way to know if any belonged to her.
