Lunaria (A Soulmark Series Finale), page 41
Adrenaline courses through my blood as the war rages on in full force from all around. Gasping as a spell lands inches from my hand to scorch the ground, I scramble to my feet and lurch toward Adrian.
Numbers three and four of Adrian’s captors are immobilized by the time I am on my feet. The sight is dizzying to comprehend, and far more violent than I can bear to stand. The black beast of Adrian’s rokama form turns to observe his work. The dark line of his lips is peeled back over blood-stained teeth. I shiver and stumble and find my footing almost too late.
“Look out!” The warning is barely past my lips before I rip the earth out from underneath the sorcerer’s feet, whose wand sparks and points at Adrian. I freeze, arm extended, and fingers splayed as the rush of my power flows through me. My intraflora writhes beneath my skin at the abrupt force. It is exhilarating.
Before the sorcerer can right himself or turn his dark magic against me, Adrian is upon him. I turn my head away, breathing harshly through my mouth as the sounds of his demise reach my ears. A howl of triumph rides the wind. I look to Adrian.
His body quivers with exhilaration as his gilded gaze locks on mine.
Without thought, I move. Shock is settling into my joints, making each move and every breath a chore as I close the distance between us. Adrian’s body shudders visibly. His limbs and bones cracking as he rears up onto his hind legs and transforms. The spectacle takes my breath away. I stop, waiting for his human body to forge back completely.
“Luna.” My name is a hoarse prayer across Adrian’s lips.
We rush toward one another without further hesitation. It feels as though my heart will burst with joy as inches separate us.
“Kill her! Kill him!”
Noah’s zealous cry from behind makes Adrian’s eyes go wide. I catch the lance of fear across his face—feel it sear through my blood—before he captures me in his arms and twists me from harm’s way.
The sharp retort of a gun sounding too loudly in my ear as Adrian stumbles into me.
“Adrian?” I whisper aghast, clutching him to my body as we tumble down to our knees. Pain radiates from some point on my back, embedded deeply near my shoulder blade. He groans in response, tilting sideways onto the ground. “Adrian!”
My dread and his sorrow collide through the bond, dulling the insistent throb of his physical trauma. My hands cup Adrian’s face, as I wheeze for breath.
“Put that dog out of his misery!” Noah orders.
Fear clouds Adrian’s features as he stares back at me, and time slows to a crawl.
Tearing my gaze from my heart’s content, I scour the battlefield for the Wselfwulf alpha. He stands amidst the chaos of spells and bullets with confidence. An ugly sneer is painted across his lips as he stares right back at me.
An animalistic scream works its way up my throat. The cry is a visceral declaration of my outrage. It is heard by the masses and answered by the earth. In the blink of an eye, Noah’s contempt is swept away and replaced by shock.
Noah stumbles forward, eyes growing glassy as his hands travel to his chest where a jagged root has speared him. He opens his mouth to speak, dumbstruck, but all that comes forth is blood.
The fighting comes to a standstill as all watch the alpha—crack!
I jerk back as if the bullet’s fatal marksmanship hit me, but it is Noah who pitches forward unexpectedly.
"I always knew you would be trouble," Carrie announces, walking over to the fallen alpha, gun in hand.
Beside me Adrian groans. His agony takes over our bond and the strange, almost tunnel-like focus I was swept away in, disappears. I double over Adrian’s body, my lungs and my back on fire.
"Adrian?" I sob, finding the wound on his back and sealing my hand over it.
"Lunaria. Run."
I shake my head vehemently, hunkering over his body to shield him the best I can.
"No." My reply makes Adrian groan again. "I'm not leaving you,” I tell him fiercely.
The ground trembles with my stirred emotions as the pain in my chest grows stronger.
“Just hold on a little longer,” I plead. “Please.”
"Although I hate to ruin your adorable reunion," Carrie simpers theatrically followed by the snick of something locking into place. "This tête-à-tête of ours isn't over."
Something bumps against the top of my ducked head. I tense. Already my breathing is labored, but it rolls into near hyperventilation with the new threat.
Adrian growls. His tremulous rumble only results in more pain for the two of us. I make a stuttered shushing noise to calm him.
"Drop the gun, Carrie," Xander commands.
The she-wolf releases a brazen laugh and the gun's muzzle presses harder against my scalp.
"Looking for a piece of the action, Xander?"
"You’ve lost."
Carrie snarls and the presence of the gun is at once removed from my head.
"You sure about that?" Carrie questions. I twist my head and watch her cross both arms over her chest. Carrie cocks a hip arrogantly and takes a step closer to the border. "Do you think this wall is going to stop us? Do you think your numbers are greater than ours? Your strength is better?"
Beneath me, Adrian's body slackens. His chest heaves for air.
"No, no, no," I mutter, fairing little better as I’m stricken with a sudden and unshakable lightheaded feeling. "Adrian." The energy in my body ebbs as the lightning mark of my heart's content burns in a warning.
"Look around you—" I hear Xander saying "—whatever orders Noah piled upon your pack have broken. Your wolves are fleeing."
I take stock of Xander's claim weakly as Carrie's indignant snarl echoes around us. He’s right. This side of the crystal’s border has lost many of its numbers. Carrie spins in circles, eyes a blazing gold and teeth bared at the retreating figures of her pack mates.
"Get back here!" She screams after them. “I’m ordering you! Get back here!”
But whatever authority and power the she-wolf once had are wasted.
"This war is over. Admit defeat and concede to the Adolphus pack."
"Over?" The brittle reply cuts through the strained air. "You killed my father. You killed countless members of this pack. It will never be over. Not until every last one of you is dead."
Silence follows Carrie’s passionate declaration. I glimpse at the scene beyond the shimmering border. Witches and wolves draw close to the border's edge, unafraid to stand their ground. Through hooded eyes, I scan the Wselfwulfs’ side. Their party is split. Wolves dance nimbly back with hackles raised, while others prowl to Carrie’s side. What sorcerers remain do much the same. Some fleeing without a second glance back and others readying for the last push.
"Lu—"
"Shh," I whisper, dropping my violet eyes back to Adrian's deteriorating state. "Save your strength."
I raise my sluggish gaze to the war scene a final time, stunned to see Xander standing on the Wselfwulfs’ side of the border.
My piteous whimper drowns beneath Carrie's maniacal laughter. She points her gun at Xander's chest.
"You would risk your life for that stupid fairy and her lover—they're as good as dead, you fool!"
Xander's chest flexes as he straightens his spine. "I'll die for any of my pack, and the right to our freedom."
His stoic words draw the hair up on my arms and legs, but the tingling ripples through me again and again as more of the pack and coven willingly pass through the crystal's protective barrier unscathed. The enemy backs away uncertainly, though others forgo their threatening stances altogether and sink to their knees submissively.
"Get up!" Carrie shouts at them, her gun swinging erratically between her own pack and Xander.
"Surrender—"
"Never!" Carrie shrieks.
Though the she-wolf’s anger fuels her, it is Xander’s level-headed decisiveness that ends the war for good. He moves so swiftly I almost miss it. One moment the gun is in Carrie’s hand and the next it is in Xander’s. The sharp rebuttal of the gun is like a lightning strike, and Carrie crumples to a heap on the ground.
My lashes flutter as I slip further from consciousness, drawn too deeply into the pain of what Adrian feels through our connection. A chilling breeze coasts over my wings as I slump against my heart’s content.
"Adrian," I whisper his name one final time, the solitary beat of my heart growing fainter.
“Not so fast, gorgeous,” a husky voice scolds as I begin to slip into darkness.
My eyes veer from side to side to find the familiar voice. "Jax." I wheeze, eyes growing large despite the heavy weight of my eye lids. Jax maneuvers me off of Adrian, looking me over quickly and then him. His lips trim to a thin line.
"The one and only," Jax grunts, glancing at me briefly.
Jax kneels above Adrian's body, his cane hovering parallel beside him. With a flick of his wrist, the cane swivels and hovers above Adrian. "Do me a favor and stay as still as possible, sweetheart. You two are connected, ergo, this healing will stitch you both up. Fair warning, you’ll still ache like the devil afterward.”
It doesn't make sense.
I blink back at Jax as a shower of glittering orange and yellow sparks fall from the cane and onto Adrian. My skin prickles and itches at the magic, yet I can only stare at Jax. How is he alive?
"You're dead,” I croak.
"Was dead, actually," Jax corrects and then glares at me. "Stay. Still."
His magic continues to rain down across Adrian's body. In seconds, the suffocating pressure against my lungs lessens. The drilling pain recedes. Adrian begins to stir.
A warmth eclipses my heart, at first soothing and then burning. Burning so bright, I think it might turn my bones to ash. The bond of our heart’s content fills with life and love as Adrian’s watery eyes blink back at me.
“Thank the Gods,” I whimper, throwing myself at Adrian, practically knocking Jax over.
“I’m not exactly finished yet, gorgeous,” Jax scolds, but he simply rearranges himself to allow my presence. Adrian drapes an arm over my body, weakly tugging me into his chest.
“Are you all right?” My eyes flit to Adrian’s.
"I’ll be fine," he manages to say through gritted teeth. I wince, the echo of Jax’s unique healing magic leaving my shoulder blade and back to flare with heat. Despite the discomfort which accompanies Jax’s healing, a palpable relief sweeps through our bond trailed by a soft sob by me. I cup Adrian’s face and brush my lips against his, uncaring of the bloody mess they are.
"We have to get out of the forest,” I say, teeth chattering as a winter wind sails by us. Adrian nods, but we remain beneath the sparkling shower of Jax’s spell until it is complete.
“Let’s go, you two,” Jax says, helping us both to our feet. I glance around at the scene. Xander and Atticus bark orders left and right, rounding up the enemy with efficiency while members of the coven wield their magic to subdue the unruly ones. I watch it all in a stupor, leaning heavily into Adrian’s side as exhaustion takes me.
Jax clears his throat.
He stands off to the side, cane held proudly in front of his body with both hands stacked atop its handle. He conjures a small smile at my acknowledgment. “Head back to safety, gorgeous. There’s cleaning up to be done here still, and you two aren’t fit to help.”
His posture softens as he looks us both over once again.
“It’s over,” Jax says kindly, walking toward us. “We’ve won. Go. Sleep. Rest.”
I nod and duck my head into Adrian’s side as Jax’s words penetrate. A weight slips off my shoulders as I shudder in a breath. The war is over. We have won.
A smile bursts across my lips.
We won.
Chapter 21
The nearest safe place is the Elder Triad's home. Adrian and I sidle in through the back door past a witch who leans heavily against the door frame. Shuddering from the cold, we are herded to a pair of free seats. A scratchy afghan is draped over my body as I watch the harried activity around us.
Aunt Lydia’s voice booms above the rest as she orchestrates the room’s activity, instructing people where to go and who to see. Steaming mugs of tea are pressed into our hands as a witch passes by. I clutch the hot ceramic to my chest, relishing its heat as much as I can before daring to take a sip. The sweet cinnamon flavor fills my mouth, earning a moan of appreciation. Feeling Adrian’s gaze, I peek up at him and offer a weak smile. After a nudge from my elbow, he drains the steaming tea in wincing mouthfuls.
“You didn’t have to finish it all right then,” I say, a short laugh worming its way out of my mouth as one of my hands finds its way to his.
He squeezes my fingers, then brings my knuckles to his lips. “I know,” he murmurs, his warm breath and lips ghosting over my chilled skin before placing a kiss. I sigh and slouch into him, my eyes drifting closed as I let the warmth of the room and tea envelop me.
“Luna!”
My head snaps up to see Aunt Lydia driving a path toward us. The instant she is in reach, she holds out both hands to me and pulls me to my feet for a brief embrace.
“Thank the heavens you’re all right child,” she breathes. Pulling back, her cat-like eyes scrutinize Adrian and me.
"Go on up to your old room, Luna," she instructs, her hands rearranging the afghan to cover me better. "Nobody else is occupying it since those plants of yours don’t take kindly to strangers."
A blush rises to my cheek. "Sorry," I mutter.
“Chin up, girl. All that's left to do is clean up the mess. Now—”
A short exclamation bursts past my lips as a sudden realization hits me. "Celosia and Alekos!” I cry, knees buckling beneath me. “They're out there somewhere still!"
I make a mad dash for the back door, intent to rectify the situation, but Adrian is quick to block my path.
“Adrian, please. We have to go and find them.”
Before Adrian can reply, Aunt Lydia humphs loudly from behind. "Absolutely not, Lunaria. You need rest. You’re dead on your feet. You might not have any visible wounds, but your lips are as blue as a bellflower, and your intraflora is no better. Now don’t go getting yourself riled up," she says firmly, her feline eyes narrowing. When I make no move to bolt around her, she gives an approving nod. "Last I heard, your friends have Tonya and Darcy at their side to guard your tree."
"They’re safe?” Aunt Lydia nods. “But what if they couldn't save it?" I blurt out, unable to stop myself from voicing my worst fear. "The Stormrows poisoned the trees of the forest."
"Tonya and Darcy are competent in their craft. I'm sure we'll hear soon enough that they succeeded, but for now—" a clamor of voices sound from the backdoor, announcing another influx of the wounded "—I'm going to ask that you worry about your own health. Get on upstairs."
Aunt Lydia herds us out, though my eyes stray back more than once to glimpse the scene. "Incoming!" a voice shouts.
Aunt Lydia hustles us to the side before we make it to the hallway for two women to stagger past us. A third hangs limply between them.
"In here," a woman barks, her head poking out from one of the front rooms. "What have we got?"
"Shrapnel injuries and a wicked burn that won't stop growing."
As my heart clenches at the sight, Adrian laces our fingers together. His dark eyes stare down at me with understanding. We walk on with Aunt Lydia in the lead and slip upstairs to my bedroom. Reaching the door, I glance down the hall to Aunt Mo's room. New worry steeps in my heart.
"She was a marvel today," Aunt Lydia voices, her pride and sorrow making the words achingly soft. My throat bobs. "I've never seen magic like what Maureen conjured. She saved countless lives, repairing the crystal. She said something about having to earn her place in the Hollow. You wouldn't happen to know what she was talking about, would you, dear?"
Her green-eyed gaze slides over to assess me, but rather than finding a reprimand in her eyes, there is only gratitude.
Swallowing, I answer in the same tenor. "She's earned it."
Aunt Lydia nods. The gesture is taut. "Good." She sniffs, her composure returning as she steps back. “I'll check on you later. I want both of you to be asleep in that nest you call a bed by the time I do. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Aunt Lydia."
She reaches out and smooths the back of her hand across my cheek once. Her shoulders drop an inch as if released from carrying some invisible weight. I know the feeling well.
"Rest, sweetheart, and as for you, sir, I won't have any funny business happening under my roof. Understand?" Aunt Lydia leaves us after Adrian’s grunt of acknowledgment.
The flora that decorates the door frame shivers as I open the door to my room. Inside, flaccid roots and vines crawl about the floor and furniture. The miniature mappas sapling that hugs the far corner of the room droops. Its leaves are turning a dull brown. A frown wrinkles my forehead at the sight, but as soon as I step inside, it transforms. The branches of the mappas perk. The vines along the floor bloom with leaves and flowers and turn a lush green.
I inhale. A slight bitterness stains the room due to its unusual humidity, but the scent of sweet jasmine is more prominent. I associate the fragrance solely with the Hollow Woods, and from the quiet rumble emitting from behind me, I wager a guess that it does for Adrian as well.
“This is where you have lived?”
I close the door behind us and slip off my shoes, then gesture to the bed that is cocooned in vines. They slither about and rearrange as we move to occupy the middle of the bed and make ourselves comfortable with blankets.
“I was homesick and—"
“It is beautiful,” he declares and holds my gaze. “Is this how you wish our home to be in the Hollow?”
I blush and shrug a shoulder. “My home is wherever you are.”
A pleased flush runs up Adrian’s neck as he leans in to kiss me. I sigh against his mouth.
