𝔸 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕎𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕙 (Book 2)

Hundred-Twenty-One

    I leaned in, feeling as the Attor tried to keep itself in the air. As it tried to fly with the added weight, "What does it feel like?" I whispered in beat the panicked flap of its wings.

    It didn't answer, attempting to fly as it screeched, I shoved my dagger harder into its wing and it bellowed again. Crying out in its serpent like voice, "What does what feel like?"

    I smiled, no more than a feral show of teeth. Wicked and cunning in its finest form. "To lose." I whispered. And in the span of a heartbeat, I wrapped myself around the Attor. I became a living flame that burned everywhere I touched, became unbreakable as the wall in my mind. Untouchable. Unstoppable.

I was infinite.

    Shrieking, the Attor thrashed against me—but its wings, with my daggers, with my grip...

    Free fall.

    Down into the world. Into blood and pain. The wind tore at us. And yet I barely registered my surroundings. All that mattered was this.

    My vengeance. My wrath. My justice.

    The Attor could not break free from my flaming grasp. Or from my daggers skewering its wings. Laming him. The scent of its burning skin invading my nose.

    As we fell, a dagger began to appear into my palm. Fading into existence at my will. Wreathed in white flame as though the silver blade itself had been forged from the deepest pits of hell.

    The darkness consuming the horizon shot closer—as if spotting me.

    Not yet. Not now.

    I cast out my own power. Light clashing with the darkness as it shot too close to me. A battle, a war. Fighting and fighting, as Rhys's power urged to come closer. But he didn't win this match. The night flowed over Velaris, obliterating the last of the legion, but never an inch touching me. Not as I willed it not to.

    I angled my dagger over the Attor's bony, elongated rib cage. "This is for Rhys," I hissed in its pointed ear.

    The reverberation of steel on bone shot through my hand and I relished in the feel.

    Silvery blood warmed my fingers. The Attor screamed.

    I yanked out my dagger, blood flying up, splattering my face and mixing with the blood that already lay there.

    "This is for Feyre."

    I plunged my blade in again, twisting until the creature was writhing in my grasp. Begging  for a mercy it did not deserve.

    Buildings took form. The Sidra ran red, but the sky was empty—free of soldiers. So were the streets.

    The Attor was screaming and hissing, cursing and pleading, as I ripped the blade free.

    I could make out people; make out their shapes. The ground swelled up to meet us. The Attor was bucking so violently, my white-fire tipped fingers dug into its skin, piercing flesh as I kept my grip strong. Burning skin ripped away, carried above us.

    "And this," I whispered over the wind, leaning close to say the words into its ear. Into its rotted soul. I slid my dagger in a third time, relishing in the splintering of bones and flesh. "This is for me."

    I could count the cobblestones. See death beckoning with it's open arms.

    Not today.

    I kept my mouth beside its ear, close as a lover, as our reflection in a pool of blood became clear. "I'll see you in hell." I breathed and left my blade in its side.

    Wind rippled on the stones mere inches away.

    And I winnowed away, swift as death itself.

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

    I heard the crack and splatter even as I shifted through the world, propelled by my own power and the velocity of my plummet. I emerged a few feet away, standing still as a statue as my eyes caught on the Attor's tattered body. Its wings were a twisted ruin. Beyond that, scraps of armor, splintered bone, and burned flesh were all that remained.

Good.

    And with that, my body gave way. My legs nearly giving out under me. I leaned against the cool brick wall to my right, the aftermath of the fighting finally catching up to my aching limbs. The running, the fighting, the magic, exhaustion finally gripped me in its hold.

    I panted, closing my eyes as I caught my running breath—trying so very hard to escape me as it fled. My magic lifted.

    At last, the wave of Rhysand's power reached me. No one cried out as the star-flecked cascade of night cut off all the light.

    I thought I heard vague grunting and scraping—as if it had sought out hidden soldiers in the Rainbow, but then...

    The wave vanished. Sunlight.

    A crunch of boots before me, the beat and whisper of mighty wings.

    A hand on my face, tilting up my chin and wiping away the remaining blood, leaving only a smeared red coloring in its wake. Violet eyes met mine.

    Rhys.

    He leaned forward, his brow sweat-coated, his breathing uneven. He gently pressed a kiss to my mouth.

    To remind us both. Who we were, what we were. I needed that. I needed that more than anything. My icy heart thawed, the fire in my body smoothed by a tendril of dark.

    Rhys pulled back, his thumb stroking my cheek. People were weeping. Keening.

    But no more screams of terror. No more bloodshed and destruction.

    My mate murmured, "Danika Acheron, Savior of Velaris."

    I slid my arms around his waist, his warmth enveloping me as I tucked myself deep into his chest.

    Even as his city wailed, the High Lord of the Night Court held me until both of us could at last face this blood-drenched new world.

A/N; Bros, I'm way attached to this book. I'm thinking about making a book about Rhys and Dani's kids when I'm finished with this series.

And yes, I used that Tyler Galpin line. bite me.

Also, if Dani were to get a dog, it would have to be a dog that matched her personality so that they could wreak havoc together. Thus, I believe this is the only one who can compare: