Thiago tries to straighten. "Stay behind me."
"What are you going to do? Bleed on them?"
There’s a startled glimpse of green eyes. A low growl echoes behind us. Shadows weave through the trees, barely visible through the softly falling snow. All I can see is the sheer size of the creatures, the slavering menace in their faces….
A high-pitched howl rises. Another lifts its shaggy head, a chilling sound reverberating through its throat.
So, this is it...
This is where it all ends.
I have no more illusions. I can count. Six banes, when two would be a handful even if the pair of us were in any condition to fight.
"Do you trust me, Vi?" Thiago whispers, collapsing to his knees in the snow.
This time I let him fall, trying to draw my sword with blistered, half-frozen fingers.
What sort of question is that?
An ancient hardness cuts over his face as he sees my expression, his eyes turning pure black. "Don't answer that," he says with a soft, bitter laugh before turning to the banes.
Tendrils of shadow sweep around us, as insubstantial as mist. I freeze. The Darkness. I’ve heard of him using it. With his power, he can cut fae down from miles away, but the price is tremendous, for it’s rumored the prince cannot always control it.
And sometimes the Darkness takes a piece of his soul with it.
"Whatever you do," he whispers, "don't run. Don't move from my side. And don’t scream."
12
The banes dissolve from the tree line, stalking us in a low crouch. My breath catches, and I unconsciously step closer to Thiago, my gloved knuckles brushing against his shoulder.
"Come to me," he whispers, droplets of blood marking the pristine snow by his knees. "That's it."
His shadows fan across the snow, snaking around the banes.
“Look at thissh,” hisses one of the banes with a coughing laugh. “A wicked prinsh, on hish kneesh before ush.”
“Delicioush,” growls another.
“Itsh the traitor,” rasps another. “The Bashtard.”
Another merely snaps, lunging forward with yellowed teeth clashing.
I swing the sword, more of a threat than anything else, trying to stop them from rushing us. They’re everywhere. Circling us. Growling under their breath as they watch the sword with yellow eyes.
“Vi,” Thiago rasps. “I told you not to move.”
“Then do what you need to do.”
Tearing open his shirt, he falls forward onto his knuckles. Shadows move beneath his skin. No, not shadows. Tattoos. They writhe with malevolent grace, thick and violent. And then suddenly, they’re no longer content to remain in his skin.
“Thiago,” I whisper as tentacles of pure shadow lift out of his skin.
“Don’t move,” he rasps.
The banes slink closer.
I don’t know where to look. Every hair down my spine lifts as I face the banes, because I can hear little whispers behind me, as though something lurks within those shadows.
“Rip hish throat out,” hisses one of the banes.
“Take him for queen,” growls another.
“Why don’t you come closer and try it,” Thiago replies coldly.
As one, they lift their heads and howl.
And then they do exactly as he suggests, launching forward as one.
I swing my sword, iron whining in the chill night air. It meets resistance, and then hot blood splashes across my face. I’m about to follow up but Thiago grabs my ankle.
Shadows erupt, plunging us into a cloud of darkness and swallowing the banes whole. Yelps and snarls echo through the clearing, along with the crunch of bones. It’s bloody and brutal, and I don’t know what’s worse, the sound of the banes screaming in pain and rage, or the hissing little whispers that fill the shadows.
“Eat them all up….”
“So sweet the screams…. Tasty, tasty bones…. Crunch them and chew them and swallow them down.”
Thiago’s arms came around me, pinning me to his hard body as his power tears through the banes. I bury my face against his chest, trying not to listen to the Darkness’s devastating whispers.
It’s as if the malevolence is alive and comprised of several entities.
“More. Want more.”
Something touches my hair, and I scream as I feel its chill whisper down my spine.
“Don’t worry,” the Prince of Evernight tells me. “You’re safe in my arms. You’ll always be safe.”
The wind whips around us, something hissing in furious demand.
“Not her. Never her,” Thiago snaps.
“Prince is weak,” whispers something behind me. “Prince is bleeding. Who is Prince to make demands?”
“Begone!” he bellows, flinging up his arms.
“Tasty, tasty blood—” Right behind him. “Wants it.”
His weight leans on me, as if they’re sapping him of strength. I catch a glimpse of the strain on his face. The sound of slobbering echoes, and then he screams and hot blood splashes against my cheek.
“Keep me safe,” I tell him, wrapping my arms around his neck and pressing my face to his throat. Greedy hands tear at my velvet cloak, and something slices my thigh. “You can do this. You can control them. I know you can. You promised you’d keep me safe.”
I don’t know what sort of magic this is, but I know now why the queens fear him.
Blood splashes as the creatures take their thwarted rage out upon what remains of the banes. Strain tightens Thiago’s jaw, and I press my hand to it, stroking his cheek with my thumb.
“Control them, curse you.” I don’t know if being torn apart by… whatever this is… would be better or worse than being eaten alive. “Control them!”
“I’m… trying.”
Out of pure desperation, I press my lips to his.
It’s as if the sun suddenly rises.
The gloom seems to lessen, and suddenly I can’t hear those malevolent whispers anymore.
Thiago stills, his hands clinging to my shirt. And then his mouth is moving hungrily over mine, meeting me with an urgency he’s never displayed until now. “Vi,” he whispers, shaking in my arms. “Vi.” And then a trembling hand is sliding through my hair, curling into a fist, as if he’s trying to anchor himself.
The Darkness vanishes abruptly. The shadows dissipate.
I come back to myself, my forehead resting against his as we both pant for breath. He’s getting heavier, and I realize he must be almost listing toward me for our heads to touching.
“What was that?”
No Seelie fae could have wielded such power. That was pure Unseelie magic, malicious and dangerous. The clearing is splashed with blood and bone and other pieces of flesh I don’t want to identify. There’s nothing left of our attackers.
There’s barely anything left of us.
Thiago groans, his weight nearly driving me to my knees. Before he can answer, he collapses with a groan at my feet.
I kneel at his side, checking his pulse. "Your Highness?"
His skin’s clammy to the touch. Dangerously so.
"Thiago?" I whisper.
But there’s no answer.
A chill settles on my shoulders. It’s so fucking quiet now, without the banes or Thiago’s Darkness. I blow into my cupped hands, then realize the snow settling on my shoulders is starting to penetrate my clothes.