Possessed by a Dark Warrior (52 page)

“It is near the border. A small settlement.” Vail gritted his teeth and his face contorted, and the sense of danger that he always emitted rose sharply.

“Stop,” Loren barked.

Rosalind opened her eyes and looked between Loren and her mate, her blue eyes swirling with silver stars. “A little more. He can take it.”

“He cannot,” Loren countered and reached for her hands.

Vail bared his fangs on a snarl. “More. I can take more.”

Loren looked as if he wanted to argue that he couldn’t and snatch Rosalind’s hands away from his brother, freeing him of her spell, but he lowered his hand instead and huffed. Olivia sidled closer to her mate and Loren glanced down at her, a wealth of hurt in his eyes. She smiled softly, her dark eyes sparkling with it, and reached for his hand.

Bleu’s senses blared a warning.

He shoved Taryn down the steps and lunged for Loren just as Vail turned on him, his lips peeling back off his enormous fangs. He pulled Loren out of the path of Vail’s attack and Vail’s claws raked down his chest, breaking through his armour in places. Fire burned in their wake and Bleu grunted as he staggered backwards into Loren, knocking him off the steps. Olivia shrieked his name and rushed after him. Rosalind bit out something harsh in the old fae tongue and launched at her mate.

Bleu snapped his hand around Vail’s throat before she could reach him and kicked off, slamming the male into the stone wall. Vail’s breath left him in a sharp puff but the shock that rippled across his face quickly morphed into darkness, anger so black that Bleu shuddered as he felt it wrap around him.

Tainted.

But not lost.

Not yet.

He shoved Vail hard against the wall and the male lashed out with his left hand, claws aimed at his throat. Bleu caught it and pinned it above his head.

“You do not want to fight me, Prince Vail,” Bleu snarled in the elf tongue.

Vail stilled, the fury draining from his face as he stared at Bleu, a flicker of confusion in his black eyes. Violet seeped back into them, driving the black back, and he looked down at Bleu’s arm in front of him and then back up into his eyes and blinked.

“Bleu?” Vail’s face crumpled and Bleu’s heart bled for him as he looked around him, an edge of despair in his eyes. They came back to Bleu and he shook his head. “I never wanted to fight you.”

“I know,” Bleu whispered and slowly loosened his hold on his prince, allowing him to find his feet again. Vail sagged against the wall and Rosalind rushed in to fuss over him. Bleu backed away, holding Vail’s violet gaze, reading what he couldn’t bring himself to voice. He was sorry. Not for what had just happened, but for what had transpired millennia ago, and in the centuries that had followed. Bleu nodded, accepting the silent apology. “I know.”

“Vail.” Loren leaped back up onto the steps and joined Rosalind in checking Vail over, ignoring everyone as they advised him to be more careful.

Bleu didn’t join them. Vail wasn’t a threat to Loren. He loved his brother and it killed him whenever he lashed out at Loren. He had only lashed out at Loren because he had been the one closest to Vail when the flow of magic around him had made him snap.

He took the few steps down towards Taryn and she came to meet him, fussed over him in her own way by planting her hands on her hips and glaring at him.

“I thought we tackled things together now?” she said in the dragon tongue.

Bleu shook his head. “Not this. Never this. Vail is volatile and I won’t let him near you. It is safer that I deal with him alone when he is like this.”

She smiled and he frowned at her, confused as to why she was looking at him as if he was wonderful.

“You knew he would not hurt you,” she said and his frown deepened as he supposed that he did. He had placed himself between Vail and Loren on instinct, but that instinct had said that Vail wouldn’t hurt him, that out of everyone present he was the one who could reach his prince, just as he had that day on the battlefield forty-two centuries ago. “You have forgiven him.”

Bleu considered that and slowly nodded as it dawned on him that he had forgiven Vail in a way. He hadn’t absolved Vail of his sins, because that was something only Vail could do by making amends for his actions, but he had forgiven him for the pain he had caused him and the years they had come to blows.

“I want you to remain in the garrison with Rosalind,” Loren said and a low growl erupted behind Bleu.

He stepped to one side, allowing Taryn to claim her place beside him again, and looked across at Vail where he still rested against the wall with Rosalind clutching his arm.

“No,” Vail snapped, flashing fangs. “I will not leave your side, Brother. Not again.”

The look in Loren’s eyes said that he wanted that more than anything. It wasn’t possible. Loren had fought hard to convince the elf council that they needed Rosalind’s assistance in this battle, and that meant allowing Vail to enter the kingdom. The elders had agreed to Vail’s presence in their realm, but Bleu had the feeling that welcome had a time limit attached to it. As soon as the battle was done, they would want Vail gone.

Bleu found himself hoping again that Vail could do something that would help his cause, at least enough that he could visit Loren without the castle going on red alert and hunting him down.

Loren placed his hand on Vail’s shoulder, sighed and nodded. “Remain close to me.”

Vail nodded.

In the silence that fell, the elf prince dropped a bombshell that Bleu was going to make damn sure reached the elders on his behalf, because it was perfect for gaining him a reprieve.

“I know the exact location of the sword.”

Fucking Valestrum.

Bleu shuddered as he fought his way through the enemy horde, cutting down demons and fae with his double-ended spear.

Of all the places Tenak could have chosen as his base of operations, he had chosen the ghostly settlement near the border of the free realm.

A town that had been abandoned since Vail had slaughtered hundreds of elves in his own legion here four thousand years ago. No wonder Vail had lost himself to the darkness when he had pinpointed the location of the sword through Rosalind’s spell.

Valestrum had been a bustling settlement then, a place where people of the free realm and elves had traded goods, acting as a market that had drawn hundreds to it each day.

The stone buildings lay in ruin now, the clock tower still rising above the roofless squat houses that lined the main crossroad and circled the market square at its centre.

Bleu flicked a glance back at Vail, checking on him as they fought close to each other, in the rear half of the attack. Loren’s gaze lit on him and then his brother, and Bleu could almost feel his relief as he saw that Vail was still holding it together, somehow retaining control.

He had tried to convince Vail to take Loren’s advice and remain at the garrison with Rosalind, but Vail had insisted on coming with them, stating over and over that he was strong enough to fight the darkness and the memories that would provoke it. He had told them the same thing so many times that he had sounded as if he had been trying to convince himself more than everyone else.

The only thing Bleu was convinced of was that it was only a matter of time before the memories of this place, the horror Vail had inflicted here at the start of Kordula’s reign over him, took over and the darkness seized hold of him.

He knew it because the memories of that terrible night were pushing at him too, goading his darkness, and it was growing difficult to hold it back as he tried to harness the strength of it at the same time in order to fight to the best of his abilities.

The tip of his black spear sliced upwards across the bare chest of a demon from the Seventh Realm and the huge male staggered back, snarled as he looked down at his chest and touched the crimson gash, and then kicked off, launching himself at Bleu. Bleu teleported as the male reached him, reappearing behind the demon in time to see him stumbling through the shimmering ghostly form he had left behind. He slashed again, cutting deeply up the demon’s back.

The male grunted and staggered a few steps before he collapsed to his knees and then kissed the churned earth. Blood pooled swiftly in his lower back and ran to the ground, staining the crushed blades of grass red.

Before this battle was done, the whole of the valley would be crimson.

The snarls and cries of the warriors around him as they clashed filled his ears, but he paid them no heed as he checked on Vail again.

His gaze caught on a large elf male sprinting across the uneven terrain, a black blade held point down in his fist.

Running in the opposite direction to the battle.

Bleu slowly turned his head, following the male’s trajectory, and his eyes widened and tracked back.

Loren fought two demon males, his twin blades a blur as he ducked and dodged, lashed out to deal blows that would weaken his opponents.

Bleu’s violet gaze leaped back to the elf male charging towards him.

His eyes were black.

A cold judder wracked Bleu, realisation that hit him so hard he rocked back on his heels before he kicked off, sprinting hard towards his prince.

The male wasn’t running to help Loren.

Darkness embraced Bleu as he leaped over a fallen fae female and cold swirled around him, and he willed the fates to listen to him as he jumped into his portal and get him to his destination before the male reached Loren.

He dropped out of the air just as the elf launched his blade at Loren and thrust his spear forwards, ramming it deep into the male’s side. The sudden jerk to the right the male made as Bleu drove him to the ground wasn’t enough to throw his aim off and Bleu could only shout as the black knife flew at Loren’s back.

He pulled his spear free as the blade connected, striking Loren in the right shoulder and slicing straight through his black armour. Loren toppled forwards as he bellowed in agony and hastily swept his obsidian sword out to block the silver blade the nearest demon aimed at his neck.

Bleu raced across the battlefield and snarled as he reached Loren just as the demon struck again, more force behind the blow of his broadsword this time. Bleu swept his spear up, grimaced and grunted through clenched teeth as it clashed hard with the male’s blade and vibrations rang along its length, numbing his hands. He shoved upwards with his double-ended spear, knocking the demon back, and spun on his heel, bringing the second blade of his spear around in a deadly arc. It sliced through the demon’s exposed stomach and Bleu didn’t bother to watch him fall as he gargled, the scent of his blood flooding the air around him.

He rushed to Loren and caught him as he dropped to his knees.

“Loren,” Bleu barked and growled at the blade protruding from his back, his fangs lengthening as rage threatened to consume him.

“Tenak… he must have…” Loren breathed hard and snarled through his own fangs, his face contorting as he tried to sit back, with more than pain this time. He was angry. Bleu could feel it and he wanted to tell Loren not to beat himself up about the fact this had happened. It wasn’t his fault. Loren hunched forwards again, clutched his shoulder with his left hand and grunted.

An unholy roar shook the battlefield and the air swirled around them, darkness rushing over Bleu like an oily tide, pulling his even closer to the surface. Bleu fought it back and looked up at Vail where he towered over Loren, his near-black eyes wild with fury that rolled off him.

Bleu bit out, “Tenak has turned the tainted in our ranks against us.”

Tainted were weak, vulnerable to control by witches. The way Vail’s gaze narrowed, his irises turning completely black, and he lifted his head to scent the air said that he knew what Bleu had been trying to say without mentioning the W word or bringing up magic.

Vail spared Loren a glance, and the moment Loren looked up at his younger brother with fury mingled with regret written in every line of his face, Vail nodded and teleported, leaving an icy chill in his wake.

Screams erupted on the battlefield around them and Bleu looked over his shoulder, barely able to keep up with Vail as he went to town on their own ranks, hunting out any tainted like a bloodhound, as if he could recognise the disease in other elves because he was so dangerously acquainted with it.

“Gods,” Loren muttered and lowered his head, his eyes falling shut. The muscle in his jaw popped and he ground out, “It will be too much for him.”

Bleu felt Loren’s fear because it beat in his heart too. Vail had undertaken an unsavoury task, one most elves would have refused. Not every tainted on the battlefield had been turned against them. For all they knew, only that one male had been corrupted by magic. The effect hunting his own kind would have on most elves was nothing compared with the effect it would have on Vail, a male who was still coming to terms with the sheer number of elves he had murdered under Kordula’s control.

If this nightmare Vail had thrown himself into didn’t gain him favour with the elders, Bleu was going to see that their heads rolled. Vail deserved a damned medal for leaping into action as he had.

“Rosalind needs to be here,” Loren muttered and tried to stand. His knees gave out and Bleu steadied him as he breathed hard, fighting the pain.

“I have to remove this.” Bleu eyed the dagger protruding from Loren’s shoulder and his prince nodded. “It will hurt.”

Loren shot him a black look, one that said he damned well knew that, and gritted his teeth before nodding stiffly.

Bleu gripped the handle of the blade and yanked it hard, pulling it free as quickly as he could manage. Loren’s bellow drowned out the din of the battle around them as he lurched forwards in Bleu’s arms. When he had run out of air, his cry fading as he exhausted it, he sank against Bleu and breathed hard. The strong scent of Loren’s blood filled Bleu’s senses and he frowned as he eased Loren away enough to check the wound. It was deep. He wouldn’t be able to fight with both hands, and that made him vulnerable.

“Gods damn it!” Loren growled and then flashed his fangs on a snarl as he threw his left hand forwards.