Born of Flames

Chapter 44 ~ The Path to Oblivion

    Morana's hand flew to her chest and black spots swarmed her vision. Her surroundings blurred as her head grew heavy, then lightened, and grew leaden again until it seemed she was spinning in a continuous push and pull of her brain. Morana tipped sideways but spread her knees wider to brace herself before she could fall over.

    She managed to suck down half a breath and gritted her teeth. She lifted her gaze to Astaroth's and held it as she dragged herself towards him, inch by inch, her heart hammering as the invisible grip on it tightened. A few tears managed to slip down her cheeks as she sparked magic in her palms once more.

    Astaroth only watched her with a look of smug defiance. His one taloned hand remained clenched while the other beckoned her closer. Vaguely, Morana recognized shouts coming from behind her, but she ignored them. She couldn't let herself be distracted...or dissuaded.

    She paused less than five feet away from Astaroth and gathered herself, every inch of her body trembling with exhaustion and pain. The sudden weight in her head threatened to drag her down yet again, but Morana squeezed her eyes shut and steeled herself.

    With one burst of momentum, she thrust herself to her feet and plunged her hands into the shadowy mass of Astaroth's chest. Flames ignited at her fingertips, eating away at him from the inside out. A furious shriek rose from the god-spawn and Morana echoed it with a defiant roar.

    A sharp pain pierced her side as Astaroth drove his talons clean through her middle. Blood dripped from her lips and an unrelenting pain flooded her body. Morana tipped her head back, but only let her flames burn hotter. Astaroth gave another roar and plunged his second taloned hand through her other side.

    Morana lurched at the impact, blood gushing into her throat and cutting off what little amount of air she'd been able to suck down. Flames licked at her own hands now and spread up her arms.

    Her eyes widened in terror and recognition, but it was too late to pull back. Astaroth's talons held her in place and blood poured from each side of her where his talons had entered and emerged.

    "Morana!" Two overlapping screams came from behind her.

    Somehow, she managed to turn her head enough to see them, even as flames spread to the rest of her body and an unbearable heat seared through her veins, her skin blistering and melting away. Gaelen and Tarion were racing towards her, and her father wasn't far behind.

    It was Lonan and Tarion who had called her name and continued to do so now, each of them bearing frantic and terrified expressions. Tarion's fear crashed through the warm bond within her chest and she could see the damp trails that tears had carved through the dirt and blood crusted to his face.

    This time, her heart twisted in guilt. Guilt for what they were about to witness, the two males who loved her so much. The mate who had spent nine-hundred years alone. The father who had spent one-hundred and twenty-five years not knowing if his sacrifices had been enough to save her. The single year they had all gotten to spend together.

    Morana's gaze flickered to Tarion's for a heartbeat, before she turned away and peered behind Astaroth. The sun had reached the horizon now, waves of red seeping around it. But it had not set. Instead, it seemed to be waiting. Watching.

    And she realized why as a new sphere of light began rising before the setting sun, the crimson light bleeding over its pale surface until it was stained red. The opposite of the sign of her birth.

    Her gaze lifted to Astaroth's as the dark Lord's voice rumbled between them. "You have failed, Phoenix," he hissed. "You were never going to be able to kill me. It would take a god." He offered her one last grin. "I'm going to enjoy enslaving your friends once more, and as for your mate..."