“Kester!” she shouted.
But it was too late. In a blur of shadowy motion, Abrax snapped Kester’s neck. The crack of his spine echoed off the ceiling, and horror blared through Ursula’s skull.
Chapter 31
As Kester’s limp body crashed to the floor, Ursula lifted her sword. His spell no longer held the fae in thrall, and they snarled, eyes flashing at her. She gripped the sword, raw panic tearing her mind apart. Kester. Kester is dead. She tried to shove the horror deep into her mental vault. She couldn’t let fear overcome her now, not when a pack of furious fae surrounded her, baying for her blood.
But as she stared into the vengeful face of the fae king, something else began to surge, coursing through each of her muscles: a sharp sense of sureness, as if she knew exactly how each of her joints needed to move. Primal wrath hit her like a wave, imbuing her body with a dark power. I will avenge him.
Oberon reached behind him and drew a wicked looking sword from the sheath on his back. His eyes locked on hers, his grin a thing of terror.
But hot battle fury overtook Ursula, and she grinned back, cutting her sword through the air in a display of her skill. She was no longer Ursula. She was Vengeance, ancient and primal. When Oberon lunged, she was ready for him. His blade struck hers, and the sound of clanging swords rang out. The king was fast—almost too fast for her—and his sword slashed above her head with a whoosh.
I will avenge him.
Wrath flooded her nerve endings. She began to circle Oberon, her movements fast and precise, and she saw a glint of fear in the king’s eyes. In a lethal dance, they whirled and ducked, fast as the wind. The air rushed over her body, until the king began to falter. She scented his fear, wanted his blood.
As the king tired, his guards moved in, swords drawn, and she was no longer fighting one fae, but three. She spun, her sword clashing in a blur of steel, slicing into muscle and flesh. Arcs of red blood sprayed through the air, and she no longer knew who she was fighting; she only knew that she wanted to kill.
Another guard swung for her and she ducked, her sword slashing for his legs. But the fae leapt into the air, bringing the pommel of his sword down on the back of her head.
Pain exploded through her skull; she stumbled back, dropping her blade. Her vision darkened and rough hands grabbed her, pulling her to the floor.
When her vision cleared, the king and Abrax stood above her while six fae guards pinned her to the ground.
“You stupid bitch,” Oberon spat. “Once I’m done using you for pleasure, I will flay you alive.”
Rage stole her breath. Kester is dead. And they’re going to kill me. Bastards.
Wild with fury, she struggled to free herself, but the grip of the fae’s hands were too strong. Abrax bent low, narrowing his eyes. He touched her cheek, purring. “What kind of thing are you?” He ran his fingers over her skin, and bile rose in her throat.
“Strip her,” said Oberon.
Fire. In her panic she’d forgotten to use Emerazel’s fire. She let the volcanic rage blaze white-hot, and the fae released her.
Just as she was scrambling to her feet, a growl rumbled through the hall. A dark beast crashed into the crowd of fae, green eyes blazing. The female fae screamed, running for the movable dais. As soon as they crowded on, it began to lower.
Kester? The hound circled her, snarling at the fae who surrounded her with swords drawn. He was protecting her.
Relief flooded her. How the hell was he alive?
It struck her like a bolt of lightning. The spell. Whatever spell they’d chanted before leaving had actually worked. Not only that, but it must have changed his hound form. He was ten feet tall at least.
She rose, snatching the fallen sword from the ground.
Kester’s eyes blazed; blood dripped from his jaw. A guard swung for him, and he roared, picking up the fae in his teeth and flinging him across the room.
The king drew his sword again, his eyes locked on Ursula. “Filthy animals.”
Kester snarled at the king, who now stood surrounded by a troop of fae guards.
“Get him to safety,” one of them shouted. As they closed in around the king, their bodies shimmered away, leaving behind only a pale, iridescent glimmer. The temperature in the room chilled by ten degrees.