Chapter 418 Silver and light

Chapter 418: Chapter 418 Silver and light

Talia’s POV

Malachai raised his hand, and he struck.

The moment his hand moved, I moved, because I did not wait for him to strike first, and I did not give him the satisfaction.

I dodged, and I rolled to the side, and I came up swinging.

My dagger cut across his arm, and the blade drew blood. It was a shallow cut, but it was enough.

I had spent so long being afraid of him, so long believing that he was untouchable.

But the blood on my blade told a different story.

It told me that he could bleed, and it told me that he could be hurt. And that knowledge was more powerful than any spell.

His eyes widened, and his mouth fell open. He stared at the blood like it was something foreign, something impossible.

He did not expect me to draw blood.

"You," he said, and his voice was hollow with disbelief. "You dare."

I did not smile, and I did not speak. I raised my dagger again.

He snarled, and he charged. I braced myself, and I waited.

He came at me, and I met him.

"You will not touch him again," I told myself. "You will not."

I could feel his anger. It was cold and empty.

It radiated from him like frost spreading across a window, cold and lifeless and void of anything human.

But I had warmth inside me, warmth that came from love and loss and everything I had fought to protect. And warmth always melts the frost.

But I could feel my own anger too. It was hot and alive.

He swung at my head, and I ducked. I drove my dagger toward his ribs, and he twisted away. I spun, and I kicked him in the chest, and he stumbled back, but he did not fall.

"You are quick," Malachai said, his black eyes narrowing. "Quicker than I expected."

"And you are slower than you look," I replied, circling him.

He snarled, and he lunged at me. His fist connected with my chest, and I flew back.

I hit the ground hard. The impact drove the air from my lungs, and I gasped. My vision blurred, and my ribs screamed in pain. I tried to breathe, but my chest would not expand.

I could not breathe.

For a moment, the world went dark at the edges, and I thought this was how it ended. But then the darkness receded, and I heard Kaelen’s heartbeat through the bond, weak but still there, and I remembered why I could not stay down.

But I got up.

I got up because I had to. I got up because Kaelen was behind me, and I would not let him die.

I got up because my mother was with me, and I would not let her down.

And I got up because I was a Silvertongue, and I would not let Malachai win.

He came at me again, and we clashed. It was Dagger against fist, and skin against steel.

He was faster than me, and he was stronger than me.

"But you are not angrier than me," I told myself. "You have never been angrier than me."

He had spent centuries learning to hate. But I had spent fifteen years learning to survive, and survival had taught me a kind of fury that no amount of time could match.

I drove my dagger toward his throat, but he caught my wrist and twisted. I cried out, and I dropped the dagger.

He punched me in the face. My head snapped back, and blood filled my mouth.

He punched me again, and my knees buckled.

"Still think you can win?" Malachai asked, his voice cold and sharp.

I spat blood at his feet. "I am still standing."

He grabbed me by the throat and lifted me off the ground. I clawed at his hand, and I kicked at his chest. But he did not let go.

"You are weak," he said.

"You keep saying that," I rasped. "And yet, you have not killed me yet."

He threw me, and I hit the ground and rolled. I came to a stop at the edge of the rise, and I coughed up blood.

My body was screaming. I could feel that my ribs were broken, and my face was swollen, and my shoulder was torn. But I was still alive.

I could feel my strength fading. I could feel my arms weakening. I could feel him pushing me back.

Every blow landed harder than the last, and every breath I took was a battle. I was losing ground, losing strength, losing hope. But I could not lose him.

He was winning.

"Lyra," I called. "I need you."

"I am here," she growled. "Let me out."

I could not let him win. I could not let him take Kaelen, and I could not let him take everything.

I met Malachai’s eyes, and then he changed.

I saw it coming. I saw the shift in his eyes, and I saw the way his body tensed.

The shift was different from mine. It was violent and wrong, like something breaking instead of something becoming.

His body contorted, and his bones cracked, and his skin rippled. His human form melted away, and his wolf form exploded out of him.

He was massive. His shoulders were as wide as a horse, and his head reached higher than mine. His paws were the size of dinner plates, and his claws were as long as daggers.

His fur was black as pitch, and his eyes were black as void, and his teeth were long and sharp. He was larger than any wolf I had ever seen, and he was terrifying.

He lunged at me.

His jaws were open, and his teeth were aimed at my throat.

I did not have time to think, and I did not have time to plan. I just reacted.

And Lyra answered.

"Now," she roared. "Now we fight."

I felt her surge forward, and my body contorted, and my bones cracked, and my skin rippled. My human form melted away, and my wolf form exploded out of me.

I was silver and gold. My fur was silver, and my streaks were gold, and my eyes were bright. I was larger than any normal wolf, and I was not afraid.

I met him in the air, and we crashed together.

For one heartbeat, we were suspended in the air, two forces of nature colliding in a way that should not have been possible. And then we fell, and the world exploded around us.

We collided like two mountains, and the ground shook like two storms clashing beneath my feet.

The impact sent shockwaves through my body. My bones rattled, and my teeth clacked together, and I felt the air leave my lungs.

"He is strong," Lyra growled.

I shook my head. "So are we," I replied.