Becoming Fae
The Battle Begins

I admit, I don’t exactly know what happened. One second, I’m staring at a room full of demons that were intent on not-quite-killing me and then, all of a sudden, they’re all on the floor around me in various states of injury. Well, mostly injury. Pretty sure that one in the corner who was unnaturally still wasn’t going to be getting up.

As far as I knew, I hadn’t even moved. In fact, I knew I hadn’t moved because Wrath was looking even more angry that he was before, with his jaw clenched hard enough to break diamonds, I’m sure.

“Not that I’m complaining, but what just happened?” I scanned the groaning demons to make sure that none of them were getting up to try turning me into a Fae-kabob.

“The Rite of Challenge,” Wrath gritted out. “It’s true, then. You are the one chosen to be the heir.”

“Did you seriously doubt it?” I scoffed. “That’s stupid.”

You know, when you’re facing an enemy named Wrath, the very last thing you should do is anger him. But I have a well-established problem keeping my comments to myself sometimes, so of course, I end up poking the proverbial bear. It was kind of my thing.

I didn’t even see it coming. He was an entire room away from me with downed demons littering the floor between us. I blinked and before my eyes opened again, his fist was connecting with my cheek and I was sailing across the room to land, painfully, on the floor next to a demon that smelled like old blood and urine.

I was up and blocking a sword that I don’t even know where it came from before I even noticed Wrath had moved again.

“You hit like a sissy,” I shouted as I snapped a wing forward, using the thick arm bone to send him sliding a few feet backwards, nicking him with the shaped edges of the feathers.

“Your bleeding face says otherwise,” he growled, launching from his back foot and holding his sword out like he was going to drive it into my middle.

I know my ability with weapons. I’m not a pushover, but I’m also not nearly as skilled as half of the people I call my strange and confused family. Immail could flick his wrist and I’m sprawled on the ground and winded, so I knew that I wasn’t nearly experienced enough to fight with a Sin who's entire being focuses on the fury that fuels a fight. I was fully prepared to get my butt kicked all over this throne room. My plan was to get him so mad, so blinded by his own wrath, that I could get close enough to the Throne to put my finger on it.

See, I didn’t have to sit on it in order to claim it. I was the intended heir so all I had to do was touch the thing to begin my claim over its power. I didn’t even have to be fully coherent. Heck, I could be dying, and I could still claim the thing and call the Legions. I just had to survive long enough to get close to it.

However, that thrumming pulse beating through my existence was at an all-time high. The feeling that something inside of me was waking up had grown and somehow, I found myself holding my own against Wrath as we danced around the room in a deadly show of combat. We stepped over and around, sometimes on top of the downed demons as we blocked each other's blows. I had claimed that he hit like a sissy, but each time his sword connected with mine, I felt the impact shaking my brain and my arms went numb for a moment.

Wrath was, without a doubt, a very powerful being and he was completely focused and committed to ending my life by draining my blood over the Throne so he could take it as his own.

Neither of had an advantage or the upper hand that I could tell of, but we slowly collected a series of small injuries, and I could feel myself growing tired. Sweat dripped down my face and it was harder to move my arms in time to block the killer strikes Wrath aimed my way.

I cried out as pain flared along my right arm and I dropped my weapon when my grip went slack. I spun away from the incoming attack and flared my wings, slicing Wrath across the middle and hooking the thumb joint into his shoulder before I flung him over my shoulder and into the air to connect solidly with a pillar. Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ (ꜰind)ɴʘvel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

He hit the floor with a solid thump that I think I felt in my feet, and I held my wrist to my chest. He’d cut through the muscle and tendons right down to the bone, rendering that hand all but useless. It would heal and all would be right again, but it hurt like nobody’s business and the loss of blood was going to get to me eventually.

As much as I wanted to end this little thing with Wrath while he was down and stunned from being slung around like a chew toy, I noticed that the Throne was at my back now. All I had to do was turn around and make it up the steps.

Or...

I had wings and Wrath did not. I’d take the advantage anywhere I could get it, as I opened my wings and bent my knees. One hard downward stroke and I leaned back, pulling off an aerial somersault and landing beside the Throne just as Wrath vaulted up the stairs, murder in his eyes and an ugly snarl twisting his face. I smirked and slapped my bloody hand on the arm of the sinister feeling piece of royal furniture.

Mal

I dropped into the middle of the army right next to Immail with a grin. Those little trick Naz supplied were fun to use and Immail chuckled, dropping his heavy hand onto my shoulder.

“Do you feel anything from her?” he asked, moving quickly to get into position to begin another round of assault on the palace wall with war machines.

“Have you ever been near a hound while in the throes of its Fury?” I asked him and he scoffed. “It feels ten times stronger than that.”

“Good. The Throne is calling to the demonic power inside of her,” he nodded, lifting a giant boulder like it was a snowball and throwing it into the cradle of a catapult so it could be launched across the lava lake.

“And that means ‘good’ right?” I asked, ducking under the arm of a troll as he carried a barrel oil to another set of machines.

“It means ‘maybe good’,” he answered, turning around and dropping a sword into my hand. “Considering the situation and circumstances, ‘maybe good’ is the best we could hope for, but it isn’t going to mean much if that army over there decides swatting at us is no longer fun. They have a force coming from behind us. Go use the pointy end of this on them and try not to get hurt because your Bonded scares me when it comes to your wellbeing.”

I grinned and took flight, heading to the rear defenses to hold off the reinforcements while Immail commanded the siege from the front. Gluttony’s forces were already slowly making their way through the oncoming enemies, mouths wide and eyes hungry as hounds ripped through the ones that got past them, sending their souls to Blaine who was holding the energy from them for as long as he could until he felt that Fae needed it. Hopefully, that wouldn’t happen, but when there’s a war raging, you could only focus on what was in front of you.

I don’t know how long I fought before I started feeling the pain of Fae getting cut and I knew she was fighting for real instead of trying to sneak around. After some time, I felt like my hand got cut off and I dropped my sword just as a demon lunged for me. An eerie snarl came from behind me, and I ducked in time for Blaine to leap over me and land with his teeth buried in the demon’s throat, eyes burning with the energy he had been storing thus far.

“She’s hurt!” I shouted at him as I picked up my sword again.

I was just about to rejoin the battle when it felt like I was being ripped apart an instant before nothingness descended on me.

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