Touched by the Flame || Azriel Shadowsinger [EDITING]

Chapter 60

Blood was warm and sticky on her hands. Had she been in her right mind, Soraya may have been startled by the fact that she wasn't bothered by it. Hardly even noticed. If anything, it strengthened her grip on her dagger when she sliced a gangly man's throat from behind.

Emerie tripped over herself once more. Gwyn, her own strength dwindling, swiped wildly for any rebels that approached until only a few remained. All of them distracted with Azriel. Her knees gave out until she met the dirt alongside her fellow Valkyrie. Both of them wounded and bleeding from poison-drenched wounds.

There was a cut on Soraya's leg. She would be in the same position as them if she were fae.

Roots sprung up from the dirt, latching around Soraya's ankle and sending her sprawling. She shouted her boiling anger, reaching out until her fingertips brushed the hilt of a rebel sword lying beside a corpse. A faerie approached; hand outstretched. Magic, she realized, held her in place with cracking roots.

Soraya palmed the sword and cut it through the winding magic roots, then rose to one knee and thrust the blade upward at the same moment the female lunged down for her. She pushed the sword up through the bottom of the faerie's chin. Straight out the top of her skull.

They shot her mate. Poisoned him.

Fury was a living thing pumping through her, giving her the strength to yank the sword from the skull of that faerie. Then whirl and thrust it through the spine of another.

Blood painted her hands, her clothes. Dirt sticking in clumps to her wet skin. Later she would be horrified. Later, Soraya would break. She discarded the heavy blade in favor of her own dagger. She struck messy and clumsy, but she struck true.

Azriel spun where he knelt, swiping with what little strength remained at a burly looking man. Soraya's feet picked up until she found herself running. She rushed the man and tackled him with enough force that he fell with her to the ground. With a cry of anger, she drove her blade downward. Catching on a rib the first time, so shoving it through once more.

The man choked and shuddered before he stilled. Blood puddled beneath them. 

Breathless and vibrating with rage, Soraya rolled off of him. She wiped at the damp speckles on her cheek, only succeeding in smearing a path of blood across. Her bad hip ached in protest as she stood.

Her feet were moving before her mind caught up. Dragging her toward the half of her heart that lay bleeding on the ground. Wings torn and wounds, however minor, oozing too-dark blood. She slumped to her knees beside her mate in the silence that followed.

"Az?" Her throat was raw from yelling. 

He groaned, wincing as he slowly sat up, eyes heavy. He leaned forward until his forehead fell against her shoulder.

He mumbled a curse, "fucking faebane."

A breathless laugh of relief left her. "Okay, up. Come on."

She wrapped an arm around his shoulders and grunted with the effort of hauling him to his feet. Soraya borrowed from the strength of her adrenaline as she dragged him over to Emerie and Gwyn. Who were both prying themselves out of the dirt upon their approach. Sitting upright but looking one mild breeze away from falling once more.

"Rhys is coming," Soraya said on a heavy exhale. Breaths sawing in and out of her. Gods, her entire body was trembling. She winced for him as she helped Azriel to lean against the thick base of a tree. "He's coming, okay? And we'll find you some of that p-"

Soraya knew only that she was sitting beside her mate one second and sent flying back from him in the next. Ripped away by a gust so strong it knocked the wind from her lungs. She wheezed and rolled over, dirt stinging the scrapes of her raw palms.