Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 51094 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 255(@200wpm)___ 204(@250wpm)___ 170(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51094 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 255(@200wpm)___ 204(@250wpm)___ 170(@300wpm)
Fina's cover was blown, and the vampires had been playing her from the start. It was the only reason for the vampires to have had the time to prepare a trap of this scale. A Sceleri - perhaps not Danilo himself, but someone else - had gotten to his spymaster, retrieving information from Fina's mind without her even knowing it was happening.
Vampires were crawling all over the place, and his men were vastly outnumbered. The poison slowed him down, puncturing him from within, but still Lysander forged on, leaping into the very front of his troops so he could take the brunt of their attack.
They launched themselves at him like full-sized leeches, but he swiftly swiped them away even as he looked back at his men and roared at them. Leave, goddammit. He wouldn't be able to hold the tide back forever, but he was determined to keep the vampires away until his men were able to travel back to their realm.
He forged forward, using everything he still had in his power to keep the vampires from running after his men. His horns began to drip of blood and torn flesh began to build under his claws. He fought with all his might, but when he heard a Fae soldier cry out, a part of him already knew...
Even as he fought harder, took every damn risk possible, a part of him already goddamn knew...
He might be able to save a few. Maybe even save a good number of them. But he would not be able to save everyone.
Only a miracle would keep all of them alive—-
A dozen of vampires launched themselves at Lysander, like mindless animals being commanded by a master that didn't care for their lives. He threw them off, but for every vampire he was able to kill, two more came at him, until they started weighing him down and he could feel himself bleeding out as fangs pierced multiple parts of his body.
He saw his men trying to get to him, but he roared at them to leave. No more Faes dying for rulers like him. No more. His vision began to blur even as he continued to fight them off. Star. Her image started to swim in front of his eyes. My Star. How he must've hurt her, to believe the spy's lies over his wife's own words.
His strength was flagging, but he didn't feel any fear. All he could feel and think of was regret. He wished he had the fucking chance to tell her—-
A battle cry rose from the distance, the sound forcing Lysander to open his eyes, just in time to see his Star leap into the air like a warrior goddess of old, her dark hair flying, her eyes a fierce shade of green as she locked gazes with their sworn enemies.
"Die!"
She shifted mid-air and landed on all fours, a silver-white wolf that immediately whipped off the vampires that had been sucking on Lysander's blood. Her courage and determination sparked a fire among the Faes, and as her brothers shifted into wolves and followed her into battle, Lysander's soldiers raised their swords and renewed their attack.
This, Lysander realized, was the woman whom everyone was talking about. This was the woman who had won the battle at Miller Mine. She was real, and he had been so fucking wrong about her.
Later, he would beg for her forgiveness, Lysander swore to himself, and do everything to make it up to her.
But for now, he had a battle to fight and win by her side.
Having the wolves help his men allowed Lysander precious extra moments to consider the poison still burning through his veins, and it was then he realized the strategic mistake he had made. The potency of the poison meant it was certain to be fatal, but every poison was double-edged, and in this case its potency also meant it had been specifically formulated for the beast inside him.
The vampires had been counting on Ammon's inability to counter the poison, and while they were right on that score, it was apparent they had forgotten one crucial thing about him.
Only half of his soul was Ammon's. The other half was still Fae, and while in most instances this would've been a weakness, it turned out to be Lysander's greatest weapon. Shifting back into his Fae form, he reached deep into himself and used the self-healing powers that all preters possessed to hunt for the poison inside him—-
Gotcha.
And kill it.
Fae magic crushed the poison inside of him, and it was like having an invisible stranglehold around his neck suddenly loosened. As his powers burst back into life, Lysander wasted no time in shifting into a beast and jabbing the earth with his claws.
And this time, it listened and moved. It reshaped according to his will, and in seconds, vampires were falling into sinkholes that suddenly opened and swallowed them up. In moments, the tide had completely turned, and they were winning. In moments, his gaze found hers, and he began running.