“Bring me his heart,” I said, murmuring the words softly as the skeleton stepped forward with awkward steps. Octavian drew the sword from his scabbard, holding it out in front of himself as he sliced at the bones of his attacker.
My skeleton split down the middle, his torso toppling over and falling to the ground in a stack. “You’ll have to raise more than one to kill me!” Octavian roared.
I tilted my head to the side as I stacked my fingers on top of one another. The power within me pulsed in recognition, driving me forward on instinct alone as I took a single step. I watched in awe as the bones of the skeleton stacked upon each other once again, forming the lone figure that could not be cut down so easily.
“Holy fuck,” Holt said, stepping up and grabbing Fallon. He pulled her and Imelda away from the fray as golden threads wrapped around the waist of my skeleton, holding its body together temporarily.
“I-what?” Octavian said, glancing toward Caldris.
“Never seen that before,” my mate muttered, his lips pursing in thought. The skeleton charged forward, taking Octavian’s sword through its torso, but its fingers continued to grapple at Octavian’s chest, its bones clawing through the leather of his armor until they sank into the flesh beneath it. They toppled to the ground, my skeleton landing on top while Octavian struggled to draw his sword free from the mess of bones that had trapped it.
Fenrir came to my side as I laid my free hand atop his head, settling into the comfort of his fur for a moment. He took a step forward along with me, moving in tandem as he and Lupa each grabbed one of Octavian’s wrists in their mouths and held him still. His skin burst open as their teeth broke through, digging deep as the Fae wailed.
I stepped toward them, leaning over Octavian and staring down into his panicked face. “Is this what you had in mind when you said you enjoyed being bled by royals?” I asked, watching as the skeleton struggled to break through the rib bones protecting Octavian’s heart. I turned away, leaving them to the fight, confident that my skeleton wouldn’t stop until it delivered me what I’d asked.
I made my way back to Caldris, letting my bloodthirsty mate lean down to touch his mouth to mine. Octavian screamed in the background. “Caldris! She’ll kill you for this!”
Bones cracked as I turned back to face them, my skeleton having dug its fingers through the skin on Octavian’s chest. It grasped a second rib bone, breaking it free and tossing it to the side to get to the heart hidden within his breast.
“Ah, but you see; I can claim I had nothing to do with your death. You just pissed off the wrong woman,” Caldris said, grinning as a heartbeat echoed through the clearing. My skeleton stood with the still-beating heart finally in its hands. It carried it to me, blood pumping free to stain its bones.
Octavian watched, his eyes glazing over as I accepted the heart into my extended palms. My fingers wrapped around it, and I watched as the frost spread over the surface of it. As it sank into the flesh of it and froze it solid, and the beating stopped altogether.
When I was confident it was frozen clear through, I spread my hands and let it fall to the ground. It descended as if in slow motion, crashing against the ground at my feet and shattering into thousands of red pieces across the snow.
I felt the moment Octavian’s soul fled his body, leaving to wander until he found his way to the Void.
Caldris wrapped his arm around my shoulder, tucking me into his side as I breathed a sigh of relief.
At least that was taken care of.
“Will you require anything else, my Lady?” the skeleton asked in a baritone, rotating his head around so that it spun to face his back.
I squealed, thrusting my hands forward in my panic. The threads released his torso as they flung off my hand, letting his bones collapse in a pile as the animation left him. I stared at him, waiting to see if he would rise once again, but there was nothing left as I released the golden thread I’d used to reanimate him.
Caldris raised his brow as he turned to regard me with an inquisitive stare. The moment of reckoning had come. “Well, that was new.”
36
ESTRELLA
Fuck.
Caelum glared at me, running his tongue along the underside of his top teeth. Holding my stare, he waited for the moment I would open my mouth and give him the answers his gleaming, dark gaze demanded.
“Estrella…” he said, his voice trailing off. The shock of my real name on his lips in that irritated tone made everything inside of me clench. Not with desire, or with anything even close to resembling it, but with the realization that I was in trouble.
I was in a lot of fucking trouble.
“Caelum,” I murmured, keeping my tone soft as I took a step backward. I looked to where Fallon and Imelda had stood only a few moments before, finding their spot empty. Even Holt and the rest of the riders had retreated to the side of the camp where the Fae Marked would sleep in their tents. Making themselves inconspicuous, fading into the background as if we were not aware of their presence.
“Would you, perhaps, care to explain to your mate what the fuck that was exactly?” he asked, glancing down to where my hands were clenched at my sides. I flexed my fingers, following his gaze down to the dark tips and the nails that seemed to sharpen with each day.
I swallowed, lifting my eyes back to his. He quirked a brow, watching me, waiting for my answer. “Not particularly, no,” I said, smiling to soften the blow.
He clenched his jaw, gritting his teeth as he took a step toward me. I circled back slowly, narrowly evading the way he prowled after me. Circling around the fire, I glanced over my shoulder to meet Holt’s evasive glare as he peeked out from the shadows. His stare was full of judgment, a condemnation for the secrets I’d chosen to keep from my mate.
Who could hardly complain, seeing as he’d done far worse.
“Why did it look as though you were playing the skeleton like a puppet on a string?” he asked, reaching out to grasp my hand in his. He pulled me into his body, guiding me around the edge of the fire so the flames barely avoided catching the hem of my coat.
He stared down at my hand, turning it over and studying it as if my palms could give him the answers he wanted. “I see threads,” I admitted.
His brow furrowed. “Like the one you said you visualize between us?” he asked, watching as I lifted my other hand. I stroked the thread that existed between us, giving it a sharp tug in confirmation. His mouth dropped open for a brief moment, the shock of it rolling over him all over again.
“I don’t think I visualize it,” I said, stepping away from him. “I think they’re there. I think I can see them when others can’t.” I dropped lower to the ground, stopping with my hand just far enough above the surface of the snow that I could brush my fingers over the frayed edges of the threads. I lifted them, dancing fingers over the surface of them and encouraging them to grow. Rising to my feet slowly, guiding those lines to come with me, I grasped Caldris’s hand and touched them to his skin.
He didn’t react; there was no sign that he could feel them tickling against his skin as I moved them. “You truly cannot feel them?” I asked, allowing the cold of them to wash over my skin. I pressed that coldness into his open palm, watching as the frost danced over his hand. It slid up to his wrist, like the first markings of cold on the glass window in my bedroom. I moved my fingers, watching as the image of a serpent slithered up through that frost and stuck its tongue out at him.