Enchant (Rae Wilder #3)

Chapter Eight

ALEC CLUTCHED MAEVE IN HIS ARMS, HER LAX BODY TRAMPLED AND COVERED IN BLOOD. Her eyes were half closed, chest motionless. I could not see the spark of her aura, the bubbly glow that was her fairy nature. 

I took a slow step, then another. My feet were made of lead. Standing over Alec, the loud buzzing in my ears increased. The sound popped, and I flinched. Heart squeezing sharply, I pressed a hand to my chest, terrified it was giving up, and dropped to my knees.

It was not my own pain I felt, but Breandan’s. His engulfed mine, blotted it out, and suffocated me. Blocking as much of Breandan’s emotion as possible, I placed a hand on her cold body and felt … nothing. 

Conall pushed me out of the way and pulled the dagger out of her chest. He placed his hands on the gaping wound, a clean thrust through her heart. He placed the other over the deep slash across her neck. Muscle and sinew bulged through the cut – the delicate skin of her throat torn.

I dug my hands into the earth and stared at my brother’s fingers working over the green skin. I’d seen this girl take a bullet to the chest before, I’d seen her survive something horrific. She could survive this. More than this, she had the best healer known to this fairy Wyld to save her. As long as we were not at the point of exhaustion, our bodies healed the moment we were damaged.

 Conall’s shoulders slumped, and he pulled away from her.

The insides of her body remained on display.

I looked from him to her repeatedly, not understanding. Her spark remained cold.

Without speaking, he stood and walked over to where Lochlann stood staring straight ahead. My brother placed a hand over his heart and bowed his head. Dark hair unbound, it flowed over his shoulders and hid his aggrieved expression.

Raising a hand to stop the heartfelt murmurs of his friend and ally, Lochlann turned on his heel and walked away.

The shifters were returning to the Meet, some with prisoners in tow that they pushed towards the other human survivors.

Byron prowled past, his eyes resting on Maeve then Alec. He tipped his head and screamed at the sky. His two daughters flanked him and did the same. 

Long and low, a howl echoed into the night and was followed by foster baying of the wolves.

The aggression in the atmosphere was amplified as a wilder aura drew near.

A bear padded closer, beady eyes darkening with fury, rough snout hair matted with blood. Fur – rich brown and thick – rippled as he pushed up onto his hind limbs. The enormous bulk of him was frightening  – obscuring pastel shafts of moonlight.

Forepaws swiping angrily, Baako tossed his head back and roared – the sound ancient and enraged.

Streams of air rushed overhead. Giant eagles, hawks, and falcons passed over us. The Raptors hollow shrieks added to the soulful clamor, a gut wrenching mourning of the dead.

Conall had walked away. Lochlann had walked away. Breandan had died a little inside.

 She was gone.

Byron’s screams ceased, and he lopped away to hide in the shadows as he Changed. Amelia and Nimah stayed close to Alec, brushing past him to try and offer comfort.

Alec hugged Maeve’s body to him. “I don’t believe it,” he whispered. “I can’t believe….” A sob racked my frame and had my entire body rocking. Startled by the sound, Alec stared at me intently. “She only wanted you to be safe. You know that? She tried to send you away because she wanted you and her brother to have a chance. To live.” Tears wet his cheeks as he held her. “She was so strong, so clever.” Alec stretched himself out beside her and tucked her limp body close. He leaned down to press a kiss to Maeve’s still lips.