Forged by Malice (Beasts of the Briar, #3)

Magic—it’s inside of me. Fire comes as easily as breathing, but that’s not the only thing I’ve summoned. I think of the training grounds, of Dayton’s hands on my shoulders, of the water arrow shooting straight into the target.

I don’t have to summon water from nothing—I only need to take control of it. My human self grew up in rainstorms and trees that dripped with dew. I survived the icy cold of a lake, and I rescued my mate from the depths of a frozen river. My fae body remembers everything. It lives in my bones and blood. Not just my own experience, but that of the rain, the trees, the lake, the river. I have been reborn a part of the natural world.

And I will make it answer me.

The numbness and pain dissipates, replaced by a rush of power. Catching sight of Astrid and Marigold, I channel that energy out of my body and into the river.

Tendrils of water reminiscent of thorned vines surge out, rushing over the two fae women. Astrid falls away from the edge of the cliff, slamming into Marigold. They both collapse on the ground. More tendrils of water splash over their faces.

I catch sight of Astrid shaking her head and coughing before the river sweeps me away.

Kicking, I keep my head above the water, trying to find purchase. But the riverbank is slick rock, the river too deep to stand. Again, my useless hand flicks out, attempting to throw a briar at the shore. But there’s nothing.

A flash of gray hair bobs beside me. Eldy sputters before dipping under the surface. He pops up a little ways away, eyes wide and frightened, mouth agape. “I-I can’t swim!”

“I’m coming—” I try to say, but white water rushes over my head. For a second, there’s nothing but bubbles in my vision, and I’m afraid I’ve lost what is up and what is down. But somehow, I find the surface and gasp in a breath.

I’ve got to get Eldy out of here. The water still feels close at my command. I force myself to concentrate on Eldy, channeling the water to rise around him, lifting him to the surface. For a moment, he bops up in the swell, but the river’s too fast, too vicious. It sweeps him back down.

“Eldy!” I swim forward to grab him and snag a fistful of hair, yanking his head out of the water.

He struggles to suck in a breath before another surge of white water charges over us.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, I have to do something! What power do I have to get him out of the river? I have to try!

My magic is like a livewire inside of me, sparking off my edges. I grab Eldy’s head, holding him out of the water with all the strength left in me. His eyes shimmer with fear.

The words come out of me like a prayer and a plea, born from something deep, buried underneath the rest of my magic: “Fly. Fly away.”

His body shifts beneath my fingers. Skin grows feathers, arms shrink to wings, and then I’m careening down the river, hands held aloft, cradling a tiny bird.

Fear overtakes reason as I toss the bird into the air. It beats its wings above me. The eyes…

The eyes are the same.

“Eldy!” I scream. “Get Ezryn!”

The last thing I see is the little bird flying away before I plunge under the water and slam into something hard. The breath falls out of me and then there’s only blackness across my vision and fire in my lungs.





75





Ezryn





I leap to my feet.

Kairyn tucks the blanket tighter around my father’s shoulders and quirks his helm. “What’s wrong?”

“I … I don’t know.”

But something is terribly wrong. I feel it in my chest, as if my heart has lost its cadence. Squinting my eyes close, I rub my armor, wishing I could feel my skin. A chill runs through me and my lungs feel like they can’t get enough air.

“Brother?” Kairyn stands and puts a hand on my shoulder. “Sit back down. Your erratic movement is disturbing Father.”

A flutter sounds through the air. A small wren flaps its wings desperately, swooping back and forth as it speeds into the open-air healing garden. It heads straight for me; its flight is so off kilter, I snatch it in my hands.

The bird opens its beak. “Your Highness!”

I jolt, nearly dropping the thing. As familiar as I am with talking animals, I’ve never seen one do so during the day. And that voice…

“Eldy?”

“There’s no time to explain!” the bird cries. “It’s Rosalina! She fell into the river! She’s drowning, sire!”

Not a single moment passes before I’ve dropped the bird and sprinted across the healing garden. This feeling in my chest…

It wasn’t my fear. My pain.

It was hers.

Sounds fade away. My brother calls after me. Something about summoning the guards to find her, but I can’t stop.

“I’ll lead you to her!” the bird cries, but I’m faster than its tiny wings.

I don’t need him, anyway.

My heart knows the way.

I run faster than I’ve ever run before, surging through the keep, shoving guards out of the way. My boots pound against the stone, as fast as my heart against my ribs. How could this have happened? She was in her room when I last saw her. She was with Astrid and Marigold. Eldy said he was going to look after her.

I promised I would keep her safe.

Sickening bursts of fear course up my body, but I can’t give in to it. Not now. I’m out the gate and sprinting through the streets within seconds. The city streaks by me. The river … It runs down Mount Lumidor and empties out into Sylvanita Lake.

Empties via a waterfall.

I have to get Rosalina before she plunges into the rocks.

Hold on, I cry in my mind. I’m coming!

I’m not sure what I was expecting, but there’s no response.

The city gives way to the mountain trail. Every muscle feels alight as I push myself beyond any speed I’ve ever run before. The river rages beside me, white and spitting. I jolt to a stop at its shore, looking up and down.

West. My heart thunders the word, and I follow the river at its command.

“Rosalina!” I yell. The water is nothing but bubbling swells and slick rock. “Rosalina!”

She’s here, I know it. I must be faster than the river to catch her.

The wind seems to answer my call, pushing on my back and sending me forward. My feet fly over the craggy riverbank.

“Rosalina!” I cry again.

And then I see her. A slip of pink roiling in the waves. Her head is tilted out of the water but her eyes are shut, hair spread like tendrils. She looks like a ragdoll being smashed from rock to rock.

“Rosalina!” Catch her. I have to catch her. The river widens up ahead and the roar of the impending waterfall booms like war drums.

Down below lies Sylvanita Lake, the death place of my mother.

I will not let it be Rose’s, too.

The ground lifts beneath me, my magic working subconsciously, raising the earth to shoot me forward. I’m not running—I’m bounding, the earth propelling me toward her.

I won’t let anyone, or anything take her from me. Not the monsters that prowl the Briar or the demons that masquerade as men. I will be damned if my own land steals her away.

Breath rages through my throat—precious breath that she must have so little of. A few more bounds, and I’ll be beside her.

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