“Listen to me carefully,” Xander said gruffly as he widened his stance. Black covered the blade of his sword, the color at odds with the brilliant greens and browns all around us. “When I tell you to run, Aileana, you are going to get as far from here as possible.”
“What?” I protested. “No, I’m not going to do that.”
Reaching out an arm, Xander shoved me behind him. I stumbled as my back met a large rock. “You heard me,” he hissed. “You will run. It isn’t safe for you here.”
Staring at his back, I shook my head. “I’m not going to run like a coward. I have my daggers. Jo just…” The words dried up in my throat, but they echoed through the evening, unspoken.
Jo just died. Because of me.
There was no doubt in my mind. I was a beacon of trouble. This was my fault. All my fault.
As though the wind itself could read my mind, a cool breeze brushed up against me in a strange caress.
Xander snarled as he stared into the woods. Beyond us, I squinted. Dark shadows were shifting through the trees. I could have sworn they hadn’t been there moments before. “Aileana, daggers aren’t going to help you here. I count at least twelve soldiers in the trees. The scout I killed was the least of our problems. They’re all armed to the teeth.”
How can he see so well in the dark?
“If you think I’m going to leave you to fight without me, you clearly don’t know me at all.” I widened my stance, pushing past Xander to stand between him and Daegal. I glanced at the Fortune Elf. He kept looking between Jo’s lifeless body and the forest, his hands shaking as they held onto the hilt of his sword.
“I didn’t See it coming,” he whispered. “I should have Seen it.”
A wave of pity mingled with grief rushed through me.
“I’m sorry, Daegal,” I said. “I didn’t know Jo well, but I’m sorry.”
My words seemed to have a calming effect on the Fortune Elf because he took a deep, shuddering breath. “Thank you, Ana. I know you mean that.”
Daegal looked past me to Xander. They seemed to communicate something silently before the Fortune Elf said, “Jo would have fought with us. Allow your wife to do the same if she wishes.”
Wife.
I had forgotten that we hadn’t cleared up that particular misconception, but obviously, this wasn’t the right time for that.
And honestly, I wasn’t sure that I wanted to. Not now. Not after Xander’s story.
There were a lot of things we had left unsaid. Things we needed to talk about. Lying there, holding Jo’s hand as she had died, I had made up my mind. I had no idea how Xander was going to react to my decision, but I knew I needed to tell him.
Soon.
But not right now.
As if to confirm that this wasn’t the right time for talking, a branch cracked in the forest beyond. I flung my head towards the source of the sound, my eyes widening as a dozen soldiers walked out of the forest as one.
My legs quaked and my heart pounded as I stared at the males who had come for us. For me.
I hadn’t been fast enough.
A snarl rumbled through Xander as we stared at the soldiers in front of us. There was no question in my mind about who they were. Violence and pain radiated through the air.
“Winged Soldiers,” I whispered as my heart pounded in my chest. My eyes ran over the soldiers that I’d hoped never to see again in my life.
They were the personification of brutality.
Enormous, black wings hung from each of their backs. Stretched to their fullest, I knew they would be at least as long as a male. Feathers the color of the deepest night filled out their wings, absorbing the light from all around us.
Each soldier wore a black helmet that obscured most of their features, but I knew what we would find underneath. Elongated ears with three rings on each side. Lips pierced with a hoop in the middle. A shorn head showcasing the red sword tattooed on the back of their heads.
I imagined parents would tell their younglings stories of these soldiers to keep them in line. Males who were birthed with the sole purpose of serving the high king. Their blood ran as black as the soul of the male who controlled them.