Page 105 of A Trial of War
Gilen pivoted, and in one fluid motion, he sliced the alpha’s dagger through the mage’s throat. Blood spewed in a wide arc as the life drained from Istar’s eyes. He tried to gasp, reaching for his twin. A silent scream caught in his throat as he collapsed on the ground.
Gilen stood over the body and glared at the dead mage at his feet. “You didn’t deserve a quick death.”
Minaeve screamed. Feral and fractured, her raw howl tore across the battlefield. Her shadows flickered, turning from me to Gilen, eager to avenge her brother’s death.
But Daxton was there. My mate reached out with his magic and teleported Gilen into the skies. In the next blink, Gilen was soaring above our people once more, his roc’s cry ringing out as a battle song to our marching feet.
The once calm meadow was now our battleground.
“Attack!” King Taran roared from his mount.
Minaeve faded into her shadows and disappeared, dragging her twin’s lifeless body with her. Human forces numbering in the thousands charged, with the wingbeats of harpies in the air and the growls of garmr descending from the slopes of the White Fang Mountains.
Shifters leaped forward, fangs bared and claws slicing air. High Fae warriors vaulted into action. Weapons were drawn with death in their eyes. Magic collided, crackling, shattering the stillness that had held us all. The armies roared, thousands of voices and hearts colliding on a field of green that would soon run red.
I dove into the fray. Fire trailed behind me like a comet tearing through the night. Soldiers scattered below while magic flared from mages trying to tame my flames.Screams of those first to fall rose above the thunder of combat. Scorched earth and flesh masked the sweet flowers and innocent greenery that the meadow held only moments before.
This was it. The end of everything, or the beginning of the world we’d make anew.
And we were ready.
The battle hadfinally begun.
Chapter Forty-Two
Réalta Avermont
My knuckles turned white as I gripped Fidela’s reins, staring at the skies above, waiting for the signal to lead my soldiers into the fight.
“Come on, where are you, Gilen?”
“He’ll be here,” Captain Wyndfall said at my side. “Trust him.”
I squared my shoulders, my nostrils filling with the pine trees surrounding us as time seemed to trickle at a snail’s pace. I could feel the tension rising beyond our hideaway. Magic flowed in invisible waves from the earth below our feet as if Valdor itself had become aware of our fight.
Then, in the distance, light refracted off an object in the sky, followed by flames and the thunder of thousands of marching feet and battle cries.
The fight had begun, but where was Gilen?
My mind raced with my beating heart, memories springing forth from when Gilen captured us on the outskirts of Burns. He hadn’t taken us to my father or Minaeve. Instead, he returned us to the Rainbow Woods, ripped the pendant from my throat, and confiscated Wyndfall’s sword, telling the handful of High Fae with him to remain hidden until he returned.
I assumed he was reporting to Minaeve with evidence so she could handle us herself, but thank the gods above, I was wrong.
It took Gilen six days to return to us. And when he did, he was beaten and battered, with a split lip and blackened eye. I remembered being shocked to see him in this state, knowing that many more bruises were likely concealed beneath his clothes.
When he entered our camp, Gilen knelt before me and confessed everything.
He told me of the challenge he lost to Skylar, of how she spared him, and how he finally felt at peace, no longer burdened with a role he never wanted. He owed Skylar everything, and he was determined to earn back her trust and honor his alpha. So, when she returned to Solace to help ferry their people to safety, she asked him to take on this task—to become a spy.
He would gain the enemy’s trust, break the pack bond, and then… deliver a killing blow to their enemy.
I couldn’t explain why I believed him, but my instincts were screaming at me to trust him, to reach out my hand and allow this thread of hope for a new beginning to take root.
Gilen returned the enchanted parchment to further prove himself, but Wyndfall was adamant about asking Skylar if all this was true. Her response was dramatically delayed, but she confirmed everything Gilen had told us. Together, we allied with a handful of High Fae that falsified their bloodoath to Minaeve on Seamus’s orders and rallied the other human troops at my back.
“Easy, Fidela,” I said, rubbing her neck in small circles. “Wait until we see him.”
My mare’s ears flicked, sensing the pulse of magic rolling toward us from the mountain pass. The distant clamor of steel and the guttural roars of spell-born creatures rattled through the valley. Fidela danced beneath me, following the rhythm of countless other mounts anxiously pacing in place.
