It was standard procedure for draken warriors; trees provided natural cover, and the perfect springboard for them to launch an aerial assault, which was any draken’s strongest attack.
Unfortunately, the trees were already full. A horde of vampyres descended from the upper leaves, hidden until the signal was given. They roared into action at a high-pitched whistle, cutting down the shocked drakens with ease.
“Get to the air!” Fane shouted, leaping from his tree and dodging the vampyre that reached for him. The trees were thick and getting through their branches was difficult. Whoever had planned this attack knew how to fight a draken. As Fane struggled to find open air, it became apparent they wouldn’t be able to get through the foliage to the sky.
“Down to me!”
Only three other drakens made it to his side: Robin, Dara, and his cousin Jesper. They stood back-to-back, whirling in a circle with wings and claws spread wide. Twelve lykos surrounded them as ten vampyres descended from the trees, three of them throwing a dead draken to the ground. Pain seized Fane’s heart as their heads cracked against the Earth, and he closed his eyes. A sudden scream split the air, vibrating in Fane’s skull as his instincts howled at him to respond to a female draken’s distress call. Dara bellowed in rage and launched herself at the closest lykos. Two were dead instantly as she severed their spines, but she quickly disappeared under a mountain of claws and fur as the rest descended on her. Fane tried to get to her, but two vampyres blocked him, fangs flashing.
“This is the mighty king of the drakens? Not so mighty now!”
One of them leapt on his back, pinning his wings down as he scrambled to flip around, to claw his attacker’s face off. His hands found the short throwing stars at his hip, coated in sizzling dark magic. He dug them as deep as he could into the vampyre on his back, who shrieked in pain and let go. He tugged them back and let them fly in quick succession, burying one in each remaining vampyre. One poisoned star wasn’t enough to kill them, but it would certainly slow them down. Able to maneuver, he drew his sword and ran through three of the lykos on Dara. He clawed and bit his way through the writhing mass of flesh, scooping her up and holding her against his chest.
“Hang on, I’ve got you.”
Her teeth clamped down on his forearm, drinking deeply to heal the mess of her throat and stomach. He clenched his teeth as her hands clutched at her abdomen, vainly trying to keep her intestines inside her body. Fane glanced up, and with sinking horror realized they were the only two standing. The horde convened on him, advancing with slow steps and wicked grins. The urge to let out a distress call was strong, and he suppressed it. If he did, the other drakens would give away their hideaway, and they would come in a misguided attempt to save him. More of them would die, and there were already too few left.
“I’m sorry, I should have stayed behind,” Dara babbled, blood spouting from her mouth as she coughed. “Now she’s the only one left.”
Rhyfel was close; he felt it in his blood. His heart broke as he realized he would die less than a hundred paces from her. He closed his eyes, murmuring an apology as another agonized scream split the air. As much as he wanted to save her, he prayed his people ignored her distress call. It was a tactic; they wanted the drakens to give up their location, to come crashing out of safety and follow their instincts to their deaths.
Fane dropped Dara to the ground, her eyes lifeless and staring straight ahead. He focused inwards, feeling a strong source of black magic coming from the direction of the scream. He smiled; his fangs bared. With a flick of his wrist his dagger was in his hand, making quick and precise marks along his skin.
“QUICK! KILL HIM!”
Fane thrust the dagger across his own throat a split second before the vampyre was on him, spraying him with the last of his life’s blood. Dark magick coalesced and leapt from his body, disintegrating the vampyre that held him on its way to join Rhyfel, who was being tortured nearby.
D’Arcy finally relaxed, not moving since he’d be thrown into a hollow at the base of his tree. The horde moved on, bent on following the black magick, ensuring it didn’t complete its task. He had to get back, he had to report—
“Of course, D’Arcy survived, the little coward!” The venom in my voice surprised even me, but the other drakens grinned in amusement.
“Well, in fairness to him, he was unconscious, and someone had to report back on what had happened.”
Bair calmly skinned an orange with his claw, his eyes shining oddly.
“You don’t think he should have helped your father, or fought back?”
Bair shrugged. “I guess we’ll never know.”
Kieran’s story had effectively killed the mood, even though we’d asked him for it. The others continued to eat quietly, while Bair gestured for me to come closer. I sighed and went over. I had wanted to seek him out, after all.
“Remember my offer?”
It was clear he hadn’t stopped thinking about it. He read the distaste on my face, and quickly added on.
“I’ll tell you more about D’Arcy, and why you’re right not to trust him.”
I cursed inwardly; he had me there.
“Fine. Come with me.”
We stood and made our way towards my bedchamber, my hand in his. My smile was more of a grimace, but I kept my grip on him tight.
“Don’t mind us, keep enjoying yourselves,” I encouraged, even though I felt like smacking the smirk from Bair’s face. Kieran and Ronan eyed me warily, but I shook my head at them. They returned to their meal, their faces tight with disapproval.
“Stick around and maybe you’ll be next,” Bair joked to the room, and I
