200

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No longer was the battlefield motionless. Chaos reigned.

Ryker was on one knee, gasping for air, his body struggling to withstand whatever poison Orion had applied. Thalia had begun, instinct urging her to step in, but then—it had happened.

With a force that drove troops reeling, a hideous shape appeared out of the trees and smashed into the battlefield. Towering, with dark, ragged fur covering it, and eyes that burned with an eerie brightness, it was unlike anything Thalia had ever seen. It had a deafening snarl and enormous claws that dug deep holes in the ground.

There was a moment of astonished quiet. Orion then muttered a curse.

"What in the abyss is that?" As her grip tightened around the hilt of her sword, Orion's strategist, Lyara, muttered in dread.

Ryker's muscles shook as he fought to stand up, but his eyes remained focused on the beast. He became serious. His voice was scratchy as he rasped, "That’s not a creature." "That’s him."

Orion's eyes sparked with recognition, then rage. "It's impossible."

When the beast's brilliant eyes suddenly met Orion's, its lips curled back to show teeth that could puncture bone. It lunged after that.

The ground shook under the weight of the soldiers, and they scurried aside. Orion hardly had time to respond before the beast rushed back at him, its claws tearing through his armor. Coughing hard as he climbed to his feet, he collapsed against the dirt.

The commander of Orion, Malric, yelled commands. "Come together! Let's kill this beast right now!

However, the beast persisted. It sliced through Orion's men like a razor through silk, moving with terrible speed.

As they watched in disbelief, Thalia's forces remained alert and ready. Then she took action.

Her command, "Now!" reverberated throughout the battlefield. "Orion’s forces are unbalanced—strike!"

Using the confusion as an advantage, her men charged forward. Steel fought steel, and the night was filled with battle cries as the last war for Thornwood broke out.

Thalia, meanwhile, was not observing the conflict. She was looking at Ryker.

Dropping to her knees at his side, she ran toward him. "Ryker," she said, holding his arm. He barely had consciousness left. He had clammy skin and shallow respiration. It was quickly spreading the poison.

Another voice sarcastically stated, "We need to get it out of his system."

Thalia jerked her head up. A stranger, a man in dark armor, knelt next to them. Dirt and blood stained his face, and his black eyes scanned Ryker with the acuity of a skilled healer.

She tightened. “Who are you?”

"There is no time to introduce ourselves," he remarked sharply. "He's not that long. He will not survive this war if we do not remove the toxin immediately.

Thalia paused, but there was no time to second-guess. She nodded acerbically. "How do we proceed?"

The stranger took a bottle of something strong out of a pouch at his waist. "Stay motionless," he said.

Thalia tensed up as the man put the vial to Ryker's mouth. With a sigh, Ryker resisted feebly, but Thalia reassured him, "Drink, Ryker." You must combat this.

He opened his mouth slightly, allowing the liquid to pass through. As the antidote took effect, he coughed and his body trembled.

Thalia's heart was pounding. "Come on, hurry up."

A breath that is stifled. Next, another. Ryker's eyes sprung wide, more lucid than ever. His sight had regained some of its intensity, but his body was still shaking.

Thalia sighed with relief. She mumbled, "You're not dying on me."

Ryker suppressed the ghost of a grin. "I wouldn't imagine it."

Their brief reprieve, however, was brief.

For the beast, or rather the creature Orion had feared most, had returned its focus on them.

Before Thalia could even react, it jumped, its enormous body descending toward them.

Ryker pushed her away as the beast's claws hit the ground where they had been. The air burst with dust and debris. Thalia gasped and stumbled to her feet after hitting the ground hard.

The beast made no hesitation. With the poison still weakening him, Ryker had to sidestep as it swiped its claws once again.

Then—its shape changed.

The bones broke. The muscles tensed. Shrinking, twisting, the hideous form folded inward until nothing was left of the beast.

A man, though.

The man's chest rose and fell in frantic breaths, his hair wild and dark. Something between anger and recognition filled his eyes as they latched on Ryker, those same weird, glowing eyes.

"You," Ryker leaned in.

His head was cocked. "I told you we'd meet again."

Thalia tensed up. He reminded me of someone I knew. There's something eerie.

Ryker's mouth tightened. "You should have been dead."

Darius, the man. For years, Ryker and Thalia had not mentioned this name. A name that was inappropriate for a living person in front of them.

The look on Orion's face deepened. "This cannot be done," he growled, stumbling to his feet. He had lost his formerly flawless poise. "You’re a ghost."

Darius grinned, slowly, sharply. Never a ghost, he whispered. "It was the last thing you wanted to witness."

Tension increased. Although the war was still raging behind them, for a brief minute, it seemed as though this—this impossibility—was all that was.

Thalia gripped her dagger more firmly. "Why have you come here?"

Darius's gaze strayed to her. “To complete what was begun so long ago.”

Ryker stiffened himself. "You don't have any rights."

"Is that correct?" Darius resounded, his voice low yet tinged with peril. He stepped forward. Do you believe that you are the only one who has lost everything? That you alone endured the pain? He pursed his lips. "You were shortsighted all the time, little brother."

The breath left Thalia's mouth.

Young brother?

Ryker's face couldn't be read.

Orion laughed harshly, but also with a hint of discomfort. "I should have realized," he whispered. "You were never content to remain dead."

Darius looked at him. "And you were always too cocky to realize what you were facing."

Thalia looked from one to the other, her heart thumping. Whatever history these men shared, it was profound. In the dark. And it was going to get out of hand.

Before anyone could say another word, a distant horn blew. An urgent, piercing sound.

A pale-faced Ronan, one of Thalia's commanders, hurried toward them. "We have a problem!"

Thalia whirled. "What is it?"

Ronan took a deep swallow. "That's Killian."

She gasped. "What about him?"

Ronan paused and looked serious. Then he let go.

He is by himself. No army. No excuses. He looked into her eyes.

"But he’s waiting for you."

Silence.

Then—still shaky but propelled by something more powerful than the lingering poison, Ryker forced himself to stand.

Even though his voice was soft, it had an unwavering weight.

"Then let's not keep him waiting."