Chapter 32 

Evangeline

“HELLO, EVANGELINE,” THE Sehn lookalike said.

Evangeline scrutinized every feather, every strand of their hair down to the fitted emerald shirt that was fastened by black buttons tucked into black slacks. Their coat hung open behind their arms, their hands shoved into their pockets.

She whipped to Xilo and back to the fake Sehn, then at Lani. Nobody moved.

“How . . .?” she stammered. No, all their plans, everything . . . it couldn’t end now. Her grip tightened on Lani’s shoulders. Her skin was cold to the touch. Evangeline had risked her life for Lani, fought against Wretched, against Vane, only for it to come to this? She needed to get her friend out of here, somewhere warm. She wouldn’t let this Caster take her.

Fake Sehn took a step toward them, but Xilo blocked them.

They cocked their head with Sehn’s gray-eyed gaze aimed at Xilo. “It’s a little late to change your mind now, Sir Leander.”

Evangeline stared at Lani’s wrinkled face. It matches the color of the snow. She blinked, then glanced at the two Nytes. One by one, the pieces clicked in place. The surrounding figures had all been strategically placed, taking out everyone—except Xilo. They knew where they would be and when. She may not have excelled in strategy during the times she played chess against Ceven and Ryker, but it would take a fool to not figure out Xilo had betrayed them.

Xilo held Aimee’s gaze, then dropped it. He moved aside, and Evangeline felt as if she had just lost her enchanted dagger in a dungeon full of monsters.

“I thought so.” They smiled.

Xilo didn’t even bother to look at her. To own up to the fact that he had just betrayed her. Betrayed all of them.

But for what?

Sehn—no, Council member Aimee—held out their hand. It was hard to see the intimidating Aerian as anything other than the older brother that had treated her with disdain and scorn in the past. Raiythlen could be wrong—or lying—but this felt too big for even him to lie about.

Without thinking, Evangeline pulled out Xilo’s dagger, the blade coming between her and their outstretched palm. Lani didn’t move or say anything, and Evangeline’s arm tightened around her friend’s coat, rubbing her pale, white cheek. So cold.

“I won’t let you take her.” The blade shook in her hand, but she ignored it and cast her gaze to Xilo. Pleading. “Please, help Lani. She’s tired. She needs a warm place to rest up.”

Aimee glanced down at Lani and frowned. Evangeline clutched her friend tighter.

“Yes . . . we can get her somewhere warmer,” they said. “Once she is . . . well again, may I then have your undivided attention?” A small smile. “I’d also ask for your support as well, but I’m jumping ahead of myself.”

Aimee’s words sounded muffled as Evangeline continued to look at Xilo. His eyes were cast away, transfixed on something in the distance. Or maybe on nothing at all.

You were right to try to leave this place . . . Maybe the Gods do exist and they blessed me with you, Lani had said.

Lani. Oh Gods, Lani.

Evangeline dropped her dagger and dug her head into her friend’s chest, clenching the sleeves of her coat. She hiccupped on a sob. Her lips wobbled, and she swallowed and swallowed and swallowed, but it wasn’t dissolving the heaviness in her throat. What did any of it matter anymore? Any chance for escape was ripped out from under her, and now—

Her friend was dead.

And the worst part: Evangeline had seen it coming. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew Lani would never leave this place alive.

“I risked everything to save her…” Her voice trembled alongside the trees. Her face was wet, but not from the falling snow. “Why did this have to happen?”

I can’t fix this.

“I am deeply sorry, Evangeline.”

The world became blurry as she furiously wiped the tears away. She pursed her lips, as if she could force her emotions at bay, and pinned the glamoured Caster with a hateful glare. “Shut your spitting mouth,” Evangeline snarled at the future king of Peredia.

Aimee didn’t appear upset. In fact, their brows furrowed more, their expression the epitome of sympathy. Lies. “I know what it’s like to lose a loved one, but sitting here, clinging to her corpse, won’t save those who are still alive.”

Evangeline’s glare didn’t waver. Lani was dead because of this filthy Nyte. All because of these filthy, puss-filled Nytes.

Something festered in the pit of her stomach, the familiar sense of darkness and dread she had danced with before. It crawled up her throat, blotting her eyes, seeping into her mind. Welcome, old friend, it seemed to whisper to her, before caressing her arms and legs, tugging and pulling with fiery pinchers, adding to the uncontrolled fire that was spreading, and spreading, and spreading . . . She wanted to kill them. Kill them all. Kill them all!

The air tasted of metal being forged in a blazing fire, and Evangeline realized it came from the surrounding Casters. She inhaled and also picked up the faint smell of sweat and fear. It didn’t come from Xilo but the Casters, all standing by the fallen soldiers, weapons held steadily in their hands even whilst their hearts pounded inside their chests.

And underneath it all, she could taste the spilled blood at the back of her throat.

Evangeline felt her lips curl, even though she didn’t remember smiling. She raised her gaze slowly to Aimee and purred in satisfaction at the startled expression they wore, even if it vanished just as quickly as snow on hot pavement.

“You’re all the same, starving for power when you’re already on top of the world. Using any means necessary. It’s that hunger that will bring you to your knees.” Evangeline’s smile widened. “I would know.” Her voice had lowered to a near-rumble, like a sharpened knife wrapped in velvet. She didn’t recognize it, nor understand what she was saying, but the darkness inside her had full grip of her body, pumping images, words, and thoughts that weren’t her own, at a speed she couldn’t comprehend. Except for the rage and hunger. Gods, the hunger.

Fake Sehn’s face wrinkled, the porcelain skin folding between their groomed brows down to the chiseled jaw and full lips that pressed in a thin line before it all smoothed out. “Interesting . . .”

A rustle behind her—no, above her—was hushed against the soft whistle of wind. The other Casters hadn’t moved, their daggers still drawn, pointed at her and Xilo, who also hadn’t moved or turned to look at her. Aimee remained still, so still, as if waiting for something.

Evangeline sensed the shift in air as soon as the Caster, perched from the trees above, landed behind her. There can be no hesitation; you must strike to kill. Anything less and you’ll be the one killed, Jade’s words echoed in her mind. Dagger in hand, she whirled around faster than she herself thought possible and met darkly painted eyes, the shape of almonds, widening for a fraction before Evangeline shoved the dagger into their heart. It went in easier than expected, even with their thick leather armor and glowing runes that died on impact along with their master, who fell into the snow as soon as she retracted the blade.

The area erupted into motion.

The surrounding Casters had dashed in opposite directions, while Aimee backed away, their face inscrutable. Black-clad figures rushed her while others darted in and out of the woods at a speed Evangeline could easily follow with her eyes. In fact, when two Casters lunged at her, she could move away in time, watching them grab aimlessly at the space she had just been in. Their leather boots trampled Lani’s hand, her pale body still lying in the snow.

“Get away from her!” Evangeline whipped out her dagger, watching their meager attempt to match it with their own steel, barely dodging in time before Evangeline could land a blow. Drops of blood stained the snow where she had nicked one of the Caster’s shoulders. Another whoosh of air came from her left, and she twisted her body around, dagger angled in one hand, the other fisted and close to her side. Purple fire exploded out of the corner of her vision, tumbling atop the snow and aimed towards her as if a trail of smoke powder was lit, leading right to her. She jerked away and hissed when hands made of blue, pink, and red wisps of smoke grabbed her legs with the strength of a hundred Aerians.

The tip of a sword shaved the space inches from her nose, right before she bent backwards in time, her dagger lashing out and slicing the underarm of the attacker in front of her.

“I want her alive!” Aimee yelled, paces away. A distant thought wondered why the Council member didn’t join in the fight, but she remembered Xilo was here and jerked her head to see the Royal Guard held fast with the same smoke-made hands, sword and dagger out, his face more alive than she’d ever seen it. And he was staring right at her.

Take it. Take it. Take it all and leave nothing. The darkness chanted inside her, focusing her attention back to the Casters creeping in around her. She turned her blade inward and brought it down on the smoke hands. It went right through them, nicking her calf and drawing a crimson line down the back of it. The hands remained steadfast until the dribbles of blood had them smoking and drawing back with an inhuman screech. Evangeline didn’t have time to wonder how when pain blossomed in her lower right part of her back. Forcing her entire herself into the motion, she whipped around. She aimed her dagger at the exposed neck of the Caster, who raised their sword—one painted red with her blood—when purple flames blinded her. The sharp needles of heat ripping and eating at her skin came seconds after, and Evangeline hissed as fire engulfed her, touching only her.

In a pain-induced haze, Evangeline watched as the Casters retreated, weapons still drawn, watching her warily as she thrashed and moaned against the fire eating her skin. Think through the pain. If you can’t think clearly, you’ve already lost the battle. Evangeline followed Jaden’s voice, imagining herself grasping his hand as he led her out of the blazing inferno. Make them pay, Eve. Take it. Take it. Take it all and leave nothing. A Caster lingered closer than the rest, their eyes wide as they took her in. Evangeline saw her chance and leaped. The dagger fell from her hands as she sank her fingers into their neck and the cowl of their hood, ripping at black hair. The end of their dagger entered her stomach, but Evangeline ignored the pain as instinct took over, darkness swirling at the edges of her vision, narrowing on the pulse of their neck.

“I’ll take it.” She snarled to herself and sank her teeth into their neck.