Page 162 of Commanding Flame and Shield
Agamemnon prowled along the rear of the host, conserving his energy, unleashing his lethal brutality only when unavoidable. His gaze, to my horror, seemed to be fixed on Aren, as he cut down row after row of challengers. Waiting. Biding his time for when Aren finally fatigued. I didn’t need my gifts to see that much.
The left flank switched from panicked yelps from our souls to the agonized screams of The Renown. A victorious battle chant broke out below, and something in me stirred at the reprieve as Aren battered the line back, and Ansel, August and Lana sliced down those that breached. A small mercy, I supposed, if we could just hold the line. If Aren and Ansel could hold it.
The earth rumbled, and every drop of blood in my body went glacier cold and scalding hot at once. The roars cut through every ounce of courage reinforcing the left flank, as agonized screams filled the cold air.
The tormentors had been freed.
SIXTY-SEVEN
BLOOD WOLVES
AUGUST
Blood. So much fucking blood. The only comfort was that from my tally, each soul seemed to claim three before a single blow could be struck against them. Speed, and anger propelled them relentlessly forward in waves
The snap of bone jerked my attention. Panting, and soaked in blood, Aren dropped the limp gatekeeper—a demon ranking just above crawler—to the ground, its skeletal head slamming into the dirt a second later.
His eyes locked on mine as he flexed his hand, rotating his wrist. Aren sucked down a breath and jerked his head towards the chaos. “Be certain, Commander Porter.” Another Lesson. Possibly our last.
A slow smile slid across his features when I nodded my assent, and we dove forward together.
The crawlers still fell with mortal ease. The crunch of spine against my blades a sickening satisfaction.
A deep roar shook the earth, and I swore.
Tormentors.
Not just tormentors. Blood wolves.
Screams ripped the night into pieces, and my feet charged forward, towards the agony of my family. Towards the blackness of certain death. Aren barked orders behind me, spouting out instructions to souls he trusted.
The screams were my guide, and I felt Aren, Lana and Ansel close rank on my heels, their energy still immense in mortal form.
Icy numbness, a deep battle calm, crept through my mind like ice to a burn. My eyes stopped seeing the faces of those cut down by my blades. Lost count. They just fell. Sometimes before I’d registered the break of flesh and bone. Centuries of war led each movement, and the power locked in my chest rumbled. Magic swollen and angry, it pressed into my limbs for escape, guiding instead the fatal blows of my blades.
It seemed a lifetime of blood and blows before we made it.
We reached an opening in the killing field. Not an opening. The earth was painted rusty red with the fallen souls. Their mutilated bodies lined the ground. Healers.Slain healers. Slain soldiers below them. A mangled mash of blood and flesh.
Two enormous tormentors in wolf form tore their corpses to pieces, snarling as they did. I bared my teeth, and Aren’s growl rumbled through me. Two more crept up behind their bloodied comrades.
Inhuman eyes gave no quarter. They would receive none from the coven.
“Come and get us, motherfuckers,” I spat through bared teeth.
Ansel and Lana spun forward first, a twin tornado of glinting gold and silver. Ansel a blur of black, Lana’s whipping silver braid her only signature. Blades hacking through not one, but two of the monsters before the others registered the attack. Great snarls tore from them as they dove forward. My hatchet met the face of one, while Aren’s now black sword swung down to behead the fourth.
But there were more.
More in their wake, having sensed the death of their own. All muscled, hairless wolves, six, seven, eight feet tall even on all fours. Gnashing their impossibly long teeth. Muzzles already drenched in red. They growled, and we hissed, bracing ourselves. The monsters tried to split our ranks. To herd us. Like sheep. To move us where they could pick us off easily. We held the line, and for a heartbeat, the small assault was motionless.
Carved of stone as darkness crept in.
The Renown were closing on us. Their ranking warriors all spotting the savage path of bodies.
No time.
The advance was fluid, the fraction of our coven shifting, a whip as we struck forward. Again, and again, and again.
