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Wrath seized control again, wielding his burning desire for death and retribution as I walked forward, intent to pull her from his arms and rip him apart.
UNA
“Stop!” Ferryn yelled, his command vibrating through his chest to my back.
Goll stopped, his expression that of a man possessed. He looked every inch the demon wraith king of Northgall with murder burning bright in his eyes. He wore only a loose white tunic unlaced at the neck and the doeskin pants he was wearing last I saw him in our tent, his cloak billowing off his shoulders.
But it was the flowing cape of flame that whipped around him, a glowing corona of demon fire, that had me hypnotized. He was Vix incarnate, his eyes luminous with bloodlust and rage.
He said nothing at all to Ferryn, simply stared with that terrifying expression, his eyes flashing brightly with otherworldly fire. His dragon ancestry seemed to be shining through them.
He was haloed by flames entirely that licked out and lashed any wight that came too close, bursting them into dust.
“If you use your fire on me,” said Ferryn, “you’ll kill her, too.”
I heard it. The first tremble of fear in Ferryn’s voice. He was afraid. He should be. My king wore nothing but death in every hard line of his face.
Goll began to take slow, steady steps forward again. His voice was low and eerily calm. “Do you honestly believe that any part of me could hurt my mate?Mymizrah?” The flames haloing his body flared brighter, reaching outward along the ground, like a burning phalanx to take out his enemy.
The wights had stopped attacking him, but now circled with a wide berth. It didn’t matter. Goll murmured some inaudible words and waved his arms outward. In a flash, the phalanx extended in all directions, finding every wight in the yard and incinerating them into sparks and charred dust, smoking the air with the echo of their screams and black ash.
Ferryn’s arms tightened around my waist and chest where he’d bracketed me to him. The Meer-wolf wight behind us snuffled the air, a low growl rumbling.
“I’ll kill her if you come closer!” Ferryn snapped, his hand finding my throat.
Goll froze, but his expression never wavered. His gaze found mine. For a brief moment, he blinked away the maelstrom of rage, wrath, and hard determination, letting a second’s worth of adoration shine there. Then it was gone, his attention back on my captor.
“Ferryn,” he said with chilling, dark certainty, “nothing is going to happen here that does not end with your dead body in my hands. It’s best if you accept that now.”
He scoffed. “You and your fucking arrogance.”
“Is that why you wanted to be king? You thought me arrogant? Unworthy?” More steps closer.
Ferryn shuffled back. I stumbled with him, my hands on his forearms, his fingers tightening at my throat.
“You were doomed,” Ferryn growled. “My mother told me you were likely dead already in that dungeon. She raised us on her own and told us over and over that I should be king, her firstborn.” His breathing became ragged with anger. “One day,mytime would come when I could slay our father and take his throne. It was her dying wish.” He laughed with derision. “I was making plans to do just that when you appeared out of nowhere, killed him, and tookmyplace.”
Goll tilted his head, looking more animal than fae. “It was never your place.”
“It is now,” he growled and then shouted, “Stygrim!”
The wolf wight lunged toward Goll in a run. I screamed as the giant skeletal beast opened its jaws and launched through the air at him.
Goll caught the creature by its fangs, pushing back and keeping it from sinking its yellowed teeth into him. He whispered in demon tongue.Ethelinedidn’t mean “fire” or “ignite” as I once had thought. It meant...
“Come alive,” grated Goll, calling to his magick to live and breathe for him.
It did. Flames blazed up his arms and licked two lines across the undead wolf’s back. The creature howled and snarled while Goll still held its jaws with unfathomable strength that I hadn’t known he possessed.
Then I felt them. The presence of the gods surrounding us with their oppressive, almost painful, power. Yet it wasn’t coming from the heavens or the earth. The power emanated from Gollaya himself. My king. My mate. Mylove.
A low groan slipped from Ferryn behind me before he started hauling me backward, his hand slipping free from my throat.
By now, the wolf wight was completely engulfed in flames. Goll pulled apart its jaws. The cracking of bones and snapping of rotten sinew rent the air, and then he shoved the burning carcass with both physical and magickal force so that it crashed into the castle wall.
He turned toward us, pulling his dagger from its sheath on his belt, and stalked our way with those bold, fearless steps, his expression nothing less than the embodiment of cold, merciless fury.
He was utterly beautiful. I couldn’t look away if I tried.
