The Trials of Ophelia (The Curse of Ophelia Book 3) by Nicole Platania

Author:Nicole Platania [Platania, Nicole]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-03-19T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Ophelia

The poison from Kakias’s dagger dug its claws in deeper, that point in my arm centralizing. The Angellight from my necklace speared back against it—two living entities of magic battling.

It made my head ring—my bones shake—but I tried to focus over it.

We retreated from the cliff, drawing weapons as Santorina screamed. Whirling, I found her in the grip of a dark-armored soldier. More ran from the trees.

Engrossians.

Cypherion dove for the one holding Santorina. “Forward, Rina!”

She leaned as far as the warrior’s grip would allow, and Cypherion’s scythe sliced through his arm. He screamed, and Rina tumbled away.

The limb dangled at his side, connected only by thin fibers of skin and tissue, leather armor gleaming red.

Santorina pulled her own knife and jammed it into the Engrossian’s neck. Blood sprayed across her.

We exchanged a vengeful smile as I raced past. Another warrior raised her ax, but I slid across the grass, an inch below the scarred blade, and swiped Starfire across the back of her calf.

She crumpled to her knees. Popping to my feet behind her, I raised my short sword and swung down.

The booming of Damenal as it exploded echoed through my ears with the motion, followed by the memory of rocks slicing against my bare feet as I ran to find my father’s body. The pride in his eyes when I’d last seen him. The empty, lost feeling upon realizing I’d never see him again.

And as my sword that had been a gift from my father sliced across the woman’s neck, her head rolling from her body, the hungry thing inside of me, the one surviving on grief and promises of revenge, sang.

But still, those two powers battling within my body raged, flashes of light stealing my vision. Two bright forces, one dark and curling at the edges, the other shining and intrinsic.

The back of my neck prickled, and I forced myself to focus on the battle. I shoved aside the warring sensations and spun on the balls of my feet, raising Starfire on instinct, and came blade to blade with a masked warrior.

He bore down on me, forcing me back.

I jumped over the woman’s body I’d slain and put more space between me and this new opponent. Enough to rip Angelborn from my back and thrust her forward.

The gleaming gold tip went through the man’s eye before it even had a moment to widen. I wrenched it from his head, and the way the blood spilled across his face and into his gaping mouth stirred a deranged satisfaction within me.

“Vale, guard me!” Jezebel shouted.

As I whirled toward her, my sister fell into her power.

She reached out, and the warrior I killed rose, swinging around toward his own men. It was a ghastly sight: blood pouring through the air, limbs stumbling as Jez seized hold through his spirit. She used his weight to slam into another Engrossian and drew the man’s ax sloppily across his fellow’s neck.

Then, she was manipulating the two of them like an army of dead warriors.

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