Beside me, Daegal lunged forward. He yelled, ducking under an outstretched sword before thrusting his own blade into the guard’s stomach. There was a horrible squelching sound as Daegal withdrew his sword and black blood gushed out of the Winged Soldier. The dying male let out a cry like an injured animal before falling to the ground.
As his body tumbled to the ground, another one of the king’s guards ran toward me. I tightened my grip on my blades, sucking in a deep breath, before rushing toward him.
I was much smaller than the Winged Soldier, and as he raised an arm, I ducked underneath his outstretched wings. Despite the weight of my garments, I was able to move swiftly.
Lifting my dagger, I recalled Matthias’ instructions.
No matter who you are fighting, child, if you aim for the back of their neck, you will deliver instant death.
And so I did. Twisting my hand in a fluid movement, I thrust my blade into the back of the soldier’s neck.
He yelled, collapsing to the ground in a heap as black blood spurted from his neck.
I didn’t wait to think about what I had just done. Later, I would recall the way he had crumpled like a piece of paper at my feet. I would never forget the way his wings had fluttered one last time as he lay dying on the forest floor.
The midnight blood that had covered my hands would haunt me for the rest of my life. Later, I would remember every last moment of this male’s death. The death that I had caused.
Later. If there was a later.
Right now, I had to focus on fighting for my freedom. I would not go back. I refused to go back.
* * *
The sounds and scents of battle were soon all I knew.
Death was waiting in the wings, and I knew there would be more bodies joining Jo’s. I only hoped they wouldn’t be ours.
Turning on the balls of my feet, I watched as Daegal and Xander each fought their own battles.
The Winged Soldiers were well-trained, but it quickly became clear to me that Daegal and Xander were equally skilled. They were both fighting multiple males at once, engaged in a deadly waltz with death.
My heart lurched in my chest when one of the soldiers came toward the two males.
“Xander!” I screamed his name as the soldier yelled, swinging his sword through the air.
The male in question turned to look at me, his golden eyes glinting as he moved faster than I had thought possible for humans. Xander darted around the charging soldier, and in one fluid movement, raised his sword and sliced clean through the male’s wings.
That was when I learned exactly what happened to a Winged Soldier if their wings were removed from their bodies. It was horrifying.
The moment Xander’s blade went through the black feathers, the soldier screamed. The sound was not unlike that of a mourning mother.
One time, a funerary procession had taken place right under my tower. I had watched as a human dressed in all-black had stumbled along behind a tiny casket. She had screamed to the heavens, begging the gods to change their minds and spare her child. Her mourning wails had been so loud they had haunted me for weeks.
This soldier’s cries for mercy sounded like that. I shivered as blood the color of the night spurted from the male’s back, coating everything around him.
The maimed soldier stumbled towards me, his weapon raised as his features contorted. Despite his injuries, he was a formidable size. I gasped, adjusting my grip on my daggers as I ran forward.
He swung his sword, the blow landing short as I took my blade and plunged it into his heart. The injured soldier’s screams stopped abruptly as he tumbled to the ground in a mess of black blood.
There was no time to celebrate, though. In that soldier’s place came another.
Despite being outnumbered, the three of us fought as hard as we could.
I ducked, lunged, blocked, and attacked until my muscles screamed from the exertion. Everything else disappeared as fighting for my freedom became the song that fueled my movements.
Exhaustion plagued me, and still, I fought.
* * *