A Bloody Crown

Chapter 34: Screamed

I shot into the sky, flying harder and faster than I ever had, wings pounding and beating against the wind throwing me downwards. He was far, Cassian was far above me, high in the sky.

Fear pierced me every inch I flew, watching the Cauldron out of my peripheral, tracking Hybern's process. 

"AELFRUN," Rhysand screamed, his voice one of pure horror. I kept flying, Cassian's foot just above me, I have time, still have time. Then Azriel screamed my name, rage lacing his.

My arm reached, grabbed his foot tightly. "GET DOWN," I bellowed, then stopped flapping my wings, dragging us both down.

We both fell out of the air, less than seconds away from death, right as the sky went white.

I couldn't hear, couldn't see, couldn't breathe. 

I kept falling, my body not hitting the earth, until a hand scooped me up. My eyes fluttered opened to see Cassian's burnt face carrying me towards the rest of the Court.

"Thank you," he said, voice cracking, looking at my eyes for a fraction of a second.

"Thank Nesta," I rasped. "She called for you first."

His eyes flashed wide for a moment, then he nodded once, making no further remarks. We crashed into Rhys, me sliding onto Azriel's feet.

He looked down at me, fear and rage and worry swirling in his eyes. I stood slowly, meeting the eyes of everyone around me.

Feyre and Nesta were on the ground, eyes and faces filled with dread. Amren was holding Elain upright as she vomited from sheer terror. 

"Don't you ever fucking do that again," Rhys snarled, anger unhidden in his features. I swallowed, holding his gaze, my will unrelenting. "But thank you," he sighed.

I smirked softly, and nodded. Turning to face the rest of the troops, I realized just how decimated we were. Our lines were faltering, almost every Illyrian dead, and the High Lords drained after holding a faltering shield during the Cauldron's blast. 

The sheer size of Hybern was enough to overwhelm our armies, regardless of how good or trained they were. I sighed, biting my lip in fear.

Azriel's shadows whisped on my shoulders, urging me to turn around to face him. As I began to pivot, I saw a pair of white wings barreling for me, half of the left one singed off.

Alaunus.

I gasped, watching him fall out of the air and tumble towards me. I barked a curse, then ran forward, pulling out what I needed as I ran.

Shadows fell off behind me, returning to Azriel.

"Look at me, Alaunus," I yelled over the clanging of swords, working to stop the bleeding in his soft wing. I looked down at the smell of iron and saw an arrow through his stomach, one that had been broken off upon impact. 

Swallowing my fear, I gritted my teeth and pulled it out, refusing to yelp at the slight pain. I cleaned it quickly, shushing him as I went. 

"Aelfrun," he gasped, tears in his eyes. 

"I've healed worse, Alaunus," I replied, cutting him off. I bandaged it quickly, and threw pills down his throat. My hands were covered with blood, soaked in antiseptic. I grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet, and pointed to a group of soldiers behind us.

Azriel and I met eyes one last time before he shot into the sky, Rhys watching him in guilt.

That's how bad it is, then.

I turned and followed Alaunis, gritting my teeth as I headed for the slaughter.

Even when the horns sounded, I didn't look up, barking at him to do the same. We kept moving, kept working. Getting soldiers up, getting them onto the field. Thousands of new wings beat overhead, new soldiers ran beside me, new generals echoing Cassian's commands.

We kept going, working in tandem, unaware of everyone else on the field. Moving bodies and dodging arrows and blades, healing and standing up.

Azriel's shadows crossed my path occasionally, drifting around me in guard.

At some point, I lost track of Alaunus's scent and white wings, his little voice now distant. I lifted my head to find him, turning in circles. But as I made my final rotation, I didn't catch his soft brown eyes.

I caught the King of Hybern's cold, dead ones.