Cole
I choke myself awake. Smoke fills my lungs, smothering my senses for precious seconds I quickly realize I don’t have. Muffled voices fill my ears–a few shouts of pain, of surprise. People are calling out for friends and comrades.
I’m not in the afterlife. I know that immediately. Pain echoes through my body like waves, driven by the tide of my heartbeat as my body claws back to life, my chest wounds knitting together in real time.
But my hand is freezing. I squeeze the fingers tangled in mine and jolt back to reality, rolling with effort to curl my body around Misty.
“No,” I breathe into her hair. “Come–Come back.” I can’t feel her anymore. My hand slides up to her neck, my fingers trembling as I feel for her pulse. It’s there, but barely. A weak thump that pauses for several heartbreaking seconds. “H-Help!” I try to shout the word into existence, but my voice cracks painfully, turning into a scream. “HELP!”
Figures rush toward us in a blur. The battlefield erupts into view, sharp with noise and bodies rising from blood-stained sand. Through the smoke, Serpentia rises in the distance–crumbling.
I push myself up on my elbows as the first people appear around us, crouching in a blur of tattered black robes and Deadland armor.
I jerk away from a trio of Arcane Umbra members, holding my hand out to prevent them from coming any closer, but then I look into their eyes.
Their eyes don’t swirl with green magic. Their skin is clear of the curse. They look panicked and confused as they shout over each other, asking what happened, asking why they’re here.
They don’t remember.
My heart beats out of rhythm as a crowd gathers around us.
A sharp female voice cuts through the rest of the noise, and Queen Ella appears. Her dark brown hair is wild, and her face is covered in soot, but her sea-green eyes shine like polished turquoise as she drops to her knees beside Misty and takes her face in her hands.
Ella shakes her head, eyes wide with panic. Her gaze slowly rises to meet mine.
“Mark her,” she rasps, holding my gaze with an intensity that sends tremors skittering up my spine.
“Mark her?” My voice is broken and distant, barely audible over the chaos awaking all around us.
She reaches for me, grabbing the back of my neck. “You need to mark her. She needs you. She used all of her power and is dying, Cole.”
“I–I know,” I rasp. “I rejected her–we’re not mates–”
“You are. Always.” Her expression shatters, tears filling her eyes. A rush of air roars over us, tiny thrums of light blue magic following in its wake. She looks to the sky, a tear falling free down her cheek. Other’s notice, yelping and shouting in surprise as the magic soaks into the ground, waking more of the fallen warriors on both sides of the battle.
I look down at my mate. “Stop, Misty, you have to stop–”
“That’s not her powers,” Ella murmurs, still searching the sky for its source.
I shake uncontrollable as I watch the queen and look toward the source, her eyes glassy and rimmed red with soul-shattering sadness.
“Who is it?”
“My mom,” she replies hoarsely, her hands gripping Misty’s tattered armor. Her eyes meet mine again, resigned and determined. “Mark her. Please. We can’t lose her, too.”
I wasn’t supposed to get to this point. Surviving this. Guilt rips through my system, paralyzing my body. I pushed Misty away. I rejected her. I gave her up.
This act should be her decision… not mine.
“Do it!” Ella screams.
I gather Misty in my arms, lowering my face against her neck. “I’m sorry,” I whisper against her frozen skin. My tears fall into her hair as I rake my teeth over her skin, then bite down. Hard.
I’ve felt this feeling before. This otherworldly yank, this pull. Everything that I am is bound to her, to Misty, the woman I’ve loved since the moment I saw her.
I gave her away, forgoing everything I knew to be real, and true. I had to. I want to think she knew I had to do it. I want to think she’s forgiven me.
I want to think she’ll forgive me for this, too, as I pull on our bond, dragging her back from the brink of death.
My bite breaks her skin. The effect is immediate. I feel the bond erupt through us both, those broken threads snapping back in place, and the single string that still bound us, the string she refused to let go of, sings in satisfaction.
My wolf roars in triumph, trying to claw to the surface despite the pure exhaustion weakening my body.
I pull away with a wince as a sob chokes me nearly to death, my entire chest rattling with the effort to silence it.
“Up, now,” Ella rasps with urgency. Another wave of Isla’s magic coasts over us, weaker this time. It pushes the smoke away completely, revealing a bright blue morning sky. “There’s an infirmary on the outskirts of the city. Find Kenna immediately. She’ll know to go there.”
Ella rises, her eyes on the distant tropical forest, and disappears in a rush of crimson mist.
I rise on unsteady legs, cradling Misty’s limp body in arms. The order members surround me, talking over each other, begging for answers.
“Prince Cole–where are we? What happened?” an older man asks, gripping the black robes he doesn’t recognize. He’s one of my father’s commanders. He’s been cursed from the beginning, but now, he’s… completely healed.
Terror and confusion clouds his dark eyes as I fight for words. “Gather the men you recognize, and anyone in black robes, and wait outside of the city for my command.”
I turn away before he can reply and stalk toward the city where smoke still funnels into the sky, active fires being staunched. Bodies that should be dead wake up, encouraged by warriors from every kingdom. I watch two Arcane Umbra soldiers help a warrior from Crescent Falls to his feet. I see warriors from the Deadlands and Arcane Umbra assisting a trio of witches from Moonrise.
I pick my way toward the city in a haze, my heart beating out of rhythm. None of this makes sense. We should all be dead.
Imagines of Misty running toward me, throwing me that blade forged by her magic, cloud my mind. I reimagine the moment I sunk the blade into the Book of Whispers.I see Richard in full color, screaming in pain as he dissolves into ash with my sword and Aviva’s arrow piercing his body. I watch my mate running toward me as I fall to the side, welcoming death, and then her disappearing into the void of the Gate of the Gods.
I turn around only once. Just once, to look at the place where Richard opened the Gate…. It’s nothing but a stain of black on the golden sand.
I tell myself I don’t care. That the questions in my mind don’t matter. Not now. Not yet.
I nearly step on Ryan and his wife.
I back up, shocked, and look down at the couple. Ryan’s lying on his stomach with an arm draped across her body. She’s breathing rapidly, trying to open her eyes. I haul Misty over my shoulder and crouch, throwing Ryan’s arm off Aviva’s body and picking her up by the tattered leather armor covering her frame, tossing her over the opposite shoulder, just as Prince Sydney and a white-haired woman sprint toward me, screaming in alarm.
“I can’t carry all three of them!” I shout. “I’m taking them to the infirmary!”
Sydney looks murderous as he charges forward, fumbling with his empty knife belt, but the woman yanks on his arm, forcing him to stop. Based on the look she’s giving him, that’s his wife. The one rumored to be a Mystic. Sarah, I believe, is her name.
“We’ll meet you there,” she assures me, digging her nails into Sydney’s arm.
“The Arcane Umbra warriors have been told to gather at the edge of the city. I will deal with them once Misty and Aviva are settled and tended to.” My eyes flick to Sydney, whose murderous expression is cracking with confusion. “They were cursed,” I assert, holding his gaze. “They didn’t know what they were doing. They don’t understand what’s happening now.” I look at the couple, scanning their bodies. “Are you all right?”
Sarah gives me a smile, but her eyes water with disbelief. “We’re fine.”
“We’ll help gather your warriors,” Sydney says with an edge of bitterness.
Aviva moans, “Misty?”
“She’s unconscious,” I rasp, turning back to the city with heightened desperation. The women’s weight bears down on my shoulders, and it takes all of my strength to carry them to the city's edge, ignoring everyone I pass.
The infirmary is nothing more than a square of rubble. Warriors from the Roguelands are trying to stretch a massive length of canvas to cover the area and shield it from the already unforgiving sunlight. Witches in cream colored uniforms dart around like mice, setting up cots, carrying buckets of water and towels. I spot Kenna in the crowd, and she turns to me, her silver eyes going wide in alarm.
She runs toward me as I step into the makeshift infirmary, struggling with my hold on both women.
“Aviva’s fine but Misty–”
“Just lay them down,” she rushes out, panicked as she scans her family members. I drop Aviva onto a cot.
She grimaces, opening her eyes to slits. “Ryan–where’s Ryan?”
“He’s alive. He’s going to be fine,” I tell her, and she looks up at me, shocked to see me standing and in one piece. I remember her from the battle. Her and her golden bow. A true warrior of the Goddess, this one. “Thank you for bringing her back to me.”
Aviva blinks, then smiles, before slumping onto the cot.
I sit with Misty in my arms while Kenna examines Aviva, deeming her in one piece, and hands her care to the two unfamiliar witches who’ve been hovering nearby.
Then, she turns to me.
“You need to lay her down.”
I shake my head. “I–I can’t. Not right now. Just give me a moment–”
She lays a hand on my thigh, the other trailing over my chest, where the wounds inflicted by Richard are still knitting back together. “I need to take a look at you, too.”
“I’m fine. I had to mark her. Your mom–she was there.”
“It’s okay,” she says, swallowing hard. “But you can let her go, just for a minute. We have medicine for her to help her through this.”
I shake my head, holding Misty tighter than necessary.
Kenna pinches her lips into a tight line and turns to her assistant, barking orders. The infirmary is being swarmed by those needing extra tending. Whatever healing magic spread through the battlefield had been enough to bring… everyoneback from the dead, but not enough to mend broken bones and deep gashes. The smell of blood is nearly overwhelming.
I look around. No green eyes. No symbols. No curse.
It’s gone.
A man parts the crowd, silver eyes scanning the area until they land on mine.
I lay Misty down, bracing myself for impact as Alpha King Ryatt stalks in my direction.
“Dad!” Kenna shouts. “Mom is looking everywhere for you!”
He ignores his daughter, making a beeline for me. I rise, knowing this is it, for real this time. It’s time to face my fate.
But instead of his Shadow Sword piercing through my chest, King Ryatt grabs my shoulder and pulls me against him.
“Gods, Cole. You should have told us in the beginning–”
“Dad didn’t want–he wouldn’t–”
“You’re fine,” he says with fatherly affection. “You’re fine now. Your mom’s okay. We’ve been in contact with her.”
“Misty–she used all of her powers, and I–”
“Dad, seriously!” Kenna hisses, tugging us apart. “Mom’s in pieces. She thinks you’re dead!”
“I was,” Ryatt grinds out, giving us both a sharp look. “Where’s your grandma? Grandpa?”
“No one knows,” she replies, swallowing hard. “Mom and Uncle Isaac are looking for them now.”
Ryatt looks at me, inspecting me for damage. “Stay with Misty. I’ll deal with the warriors from Tarsian.”
“They didn’t know–”
“I know,” he says. “I’ll handle it.”
Ryatt walks away with determination, disappearing through the crowd. I sit on the end of Misty’s cot, hanging my head. I run my fingers through my filthy hair, shaking ashes free. Then, I lie down, curling my body against Misty and holding her to my chest, my fingers resting on her pulse.
Her hand snakes up my chest, resting on my heart.
I close my eyes.
It’s over. It’s done.
Now what?