Page 176 of Commanding Scythe and Sky

Fuck. This. Shit.

I was about to drift into shadow, get outside the wards, and jump home when the second bastard waltzed up. Whatever he said had them both grinning, my shadows hissing while they talked. Talked and touched.

Scowling, I checked the positions of her Wings. Too far. They were too goddamn far away. Carr was closest, and even he stood at least ten yards out. He should’ve had her within arm’s reach. Especially inside what was essentially the Assassins’ fortress.

A long whistle pulled my attention toward the woods, goosebumps running down my arms. Okay. Maybe the shadows weren’t hissing at the soon-to-be-dead assassins after all.

“Cyrussssss,” something sang my damn name. Not human.

Reagan always told me that if I heard something in the woods—no, I fucking didn’t.

My power rose to meet the threat as I stepped deeper into the trees. One step. Another. On the tenth, I spotted them—chimeric demons, part man, part beast, standing tall with horns stretching from their heads. Lethal Night. In broad daylight.

Carr! I barked, slamming my shields open as I drew my blades.

What now?

Get to Freya!

I counted twelve. Behind them? Crawlers, emerging from the woods like they’d been born from it. The familiar twang of bowstrings sliced through the air, and I bellowed, “Archers!”

I fired my pistol twice, hoping the sound would jerk her attention my way, but the beasts were already on me.

Holy fuck. These things had to be first or second-hierarchy demons—massive hands, talons for nails, rows of razor-sharp teeth. I flitted into the shadows only to realize they could follow me there. My sword met the first beast with a strangled cry; the second screamed as it dove for me.

I was faster.

Barely, but faster. Fast enough to get the upper hand. Not fast enough to avoid the claw that caught me on its swing. I cursed as skin tore and flitted back through the gray. But I wasn’t enough on my own—not to stop them, not with crawlers barreling toward Hawthorne House.

I fought my way toward her. Through blood and ichor, I cut down crawlers and beasts until I hit the terrace and stepped straight into chaos.

All twelve Paladin sentries were fighting toward their queen. Carr and Jo were already there, Cali not far behind.

Freya was a wall of righteous fury; metal, fire, shadow, and… light?

Element after element tore through the demons, the stone inlay beneath her feet painted black… and crimson.

I ducked beneath a swipe and slashed at the beast’s Achilles. As it screamed, I drove my blade upward, using the momentum of its fall to punch through its spine.

My stomach roiled at the thought of one of these things drawing blood from Freya’s fair skin—until I spotted that blond fuck at her feet, eyes heavy, an arrow through his chest, his raised dagger glowing faintly. Glowing orbs suspended midair around them.

Atreus was at her back, slicing one of the horned beasts from an impossible distance. How long was his fucking sword? I blinked the blur from my vision and found him buried in a fight with a crawler right on top of him.

I carved through every crawler between us, spilling ichor across the patio in a bloody march toward her.

Reinforcements poured from the lodge, moving on wind through mist and shadow. The Northern Paladins rode out as one to reclaim their territory.

And then it was over.

As suddenly as it had started, the last of them hit the ground. I’d just stepped between Carr and Vesper when a scream turned my blood molten.

I knew that scream. Knew the sobs that followed it.

Cali slid to a halt on her knees, and my heart dropped. She was clawing at the corpse of a Mortiferous Nóchtaithe. I shifted through the shadows, solidifying as Carrson did. As Freya did. Together we hauled the beast off while Cali pried its slimy fangs from Jo’s neck and whimpered.

“Atreus!” Freya barked. I didn’t have time to process that his name was the one she called in panic. The prince was already hauling his friend upright, eyes locked on my mate. “Healer!”

“They’re coming,” he panted, vanishing into the other with the blond’s arm slung over his shoulder.