“HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE?” he screamed, leaning into her face, heedless of both flaming blades. “I killed you! Thousands of years ago! You are mortal! You are human! HOW ARE YOU HERE?”
Alex had never felt such terror in her life. Sweat dripped down her temples, mixing with the blood and the tears that were still wet on her face from witnessing Lady Mystique’s death. She was paralysed by Aven’s fury, paralysed by his strength, paralysed by the absolute certainty that she was about to die.
“I KILLED YOU!” Aven shouted again. He, too, was panting, but not from the effort of matching his strength against hers. His was an effort of controlling his emotions.
Until, suddenly, it was like a screen shuttered over his expression, the rage and fury dissolving into an unnatural stillness. A perfect, icy calm.
Alex had thought she was terrified before. But looking into Aven’s beautiful, horrible eyes, she knew she’d been wrong. Because now she was staring into the face of death itself.
And death wanted her blood.
Aven no longer needed her explanations. He just needed her gone. And so, when he pulled his sword back and then flashed it forward again lightning-quick, she knew she didn’t stand a chance.
But as his dark blade speared towards her with a strength she knew she wouldn’t be able to block, a war cry rang out as Niyx leapt over her and slammed into Aven, forcing him back and deflecting the flaming sword in a shower of sparks.
Staggering to keep his footing, Aven’s icy calm faltered for a split second as betrayal washed over his features.
“You.” Aven’s raised sword gave a barely-there wobble as he faced his oldest friend. His throat bobbed before he managed to lock down his expression, and in a harsh but detached tone he said, “You were never Claimed, were you?”
Niyx offered three words in response, his voice low, lethal. “Not by you.”
Understanding hit Aven like a slap in the face and his raging eyes looked to Alex as, with another roar of fury, he lunged towards her again. But Niyx was there, blocking him, meeting him stroke for stroke.
Alex had never seen anything more frighteningly beautiful in her life than the sight of the two powerful Meyarins fighting each other in a blur of motion, surrounded by a bloody war of unending violence.
Rising shakily to her feet, she searched for a way to jump in and help Niyx, at least so that together they could push Aven back and earn themselves enough time to retreat on the Valispath. But whether from Niyx’s protection or Aven’s single-minded rage, neither of them gave her an opening.
What are you waiting for? Get out of here! Niyx screamed into her mind, somehow managing to communicate with her while defending against the thunderous force of Aven.
I’m not leaving you! Alex screamed back, knowing that the only way Niyx was holding up against Aven’s overwhelming power was because he could use the Eternal Path, while Aven’s feet were stuck firmly on the ground. But that didn’t seem much of a handicap, since Aven was unceasing in his attack, striking over and over again despite Niyx’s travelling manoeuvres.
JUST GO! he bellowed. I’m right behind you!
Alex knew that was a lie. She could see he was starting to buckle under the pressure of Aven’s devastating might.
Not caring how much Niyx would later yell at her for it, Alex ran forward, forcing her way past the Claimed Meyarins grabbing at her. She didn’t stop and think—she just launched herself through the air towards Aven’s back as he swung his sword in an underarm arc circling up to Niyx.
But, as if he’d planned the moment of Alex’s attack himself, Aven spun at the last second, his sword continuing to slice upwards on a kill stroke headed straight towards her heart.
Only, he didn’t make it that far.
Because Niyx appeared instantly in front of Alex and she crashed into him instead, just as he stopped Aven’s blade…
… with his own body.
Reeling backwards and then freezing in place, Alex couldn’t move when, with a sickening sound, Aven yanked his sword from Niyx’s chest and stood tall, staring at his former friend who appeared to be suspended in motion, not quite standing, not quite falling. But then Niyx’s arm lowered and his sword clattered onto the cobblestones as he stumbled a step sideways, trying to catch himself before he fell.
It was only then that Alex shoved aside her shock and leapt into motion, lunging forward to wrap her arms around him from behind. She couldn’t see the damage, but she refused to believe—she refused to believe—
“Thus is the price of betrayal,” Aven said softly, his voice like a caress as he looked piteously down at Niyx who was slumped in Alex’s arms, with her barely able to hold his heavy weight.
Aven ran his fingers lovingly along his silver-blooded, black-flamed sword as his glinting gaze came to her. “Vae’varka affords a swift death. Niyx will not suffer long. And nor shall you, dearest Aeylia.”
Delaying no longer, he sliced his sword towards her head. She didn’t have time to close her eyes, let alone attempt a defence against his weapon.
But when the dark blade was barely an inch from splitting Alex’s skull in two, a black shape surged into her peripheral vision, and she and Niyx were whirled away by Soraya in a blur of shadows and lightning, with Aven’s roar of fury echoing in their wake.
Thirty-Three
Soraya delivered them to the summit of Mount Paedris, right where Alex and Niyx trained every morning.
Disoriented by the rescue and stunned that she had escaped from being sawed in half, it took Alex a few seconds to realise Niyx wasn’t rising; to realise his body was like a dead weight on hers.
Having arrived so unexpectedly on top of the mountain, Alex was pinned under his back, so she quickly scooted out to kneel at his side, turning him carefully over to inspect the damage. She refused to consider Aven’s words about his weapon offering a swift death. Niyx wasn’t dying. He couldn’t be.
But as he looked up at her with glassy eyes set in an alarmingly pale face, his chest covered in silver blood as he panted short, shallow breaths, Alex knew it was much worse than she had imagined.
“Soraya,” Alex gasped. “I need you to go get me—”
She didn’t have to finish her request before the wolf disappeared, reappearing a few moments later with a bunch of laendra flowers in her mouth.
Slicing through Niyx’s clothes with A’enara, Alex ripped open the bulb of a flower with her teeth, her stomach churning as she saw the full extent of his injury. Hesitating only a second at the gruesome sight, she quickly smeared the nectar on his wound, silver against silver. She opened another flower, determinedly ignoring the four claw marks already scarring his chest and the déjà vu that washed over her at their repeated positions. Gently cradling his head, she murmured encouraging words to get him to open his mouth and drink.
He did so without complaint, all the while staring at her with knowing, apologetic eyes.
She didn’t understand the look until she realised that something was wrong.
His wound—it wasn’t healing.