Till Death And Beyond (Witch World) by Lyn C. Johanson

Author:Lyn C. Johanson [Johanson, Lyn C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lyn C. Johanson
Published: 2013-12-14T06:00:00+00:00

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A gust of breath oozed from Raven’s lungs as a blade sliced through his side, leaving nothing but vicious pain in its wake. He changed hands in an attempt to sidestep the sneaky bastard who had attacked him from behind, but the slightest move caused the gaping wound to open up further.

A superficial cut, he winced, knowing full well he couldn’t let it distract him. There were too many Venlordians left. Too much to lose. Conserving his strength, Raven waited for the male to come to him instead of going after him, and plunged his sword the moment his opponent was within his reach. The sharp metal went through the ribs like a knife through butter, and the Venlordian collapsed, becoming yet another corpse.

That was when Amira brushed past him, her hands coming to rest on his torso. Her fingers moved outwards to his sides, sending a wave of sizzling energy through him.

“You are too pale for this.” Raven grabbed her wrists in an attempt to stop her, but it was already too late. The flesh was knitting itself, his wound disappearing before their eyes. Only the thrilling sensation kept cursing through his veins.

“Have you looked in the mirror lately?” she shot back, and despite everything, Raven’s lips curved. For one unabiding second.

“Stop exhausting yourself,” he all but barked a moment later, instead of answering her. He might have lost blood, might even be paler than her, but it didn’t mean he hadn’t noticed the vast amounts of energy she was burning up. Even the trees began to wither in her wake wherever she turned. Grass turned into a brown carpet around her feet.

Raven could see strain furrowing her lovely face. Even a droplet of sweat running down her temple. Or had it finally begun to rain? The storm was a strange one, to say the least. With the sky brooding, clouds swirling, thunders bellowing; and yet, nothing happening.

“Stop worrying about me.” Her fingers crept up to his cheek in a slow caress he felt to the marrow of his bones, the touch almost making him lose all rational thought. The battle went on, however. Forcing him to return to it. Forcing him to face the carnage under his feet, and a new wave of aggressors coming at them with full force.

He instantly pushed her aside, letting his sword intercept the strikes. The metal clanged loudly, producing sparks with each brutal hit. He kicked out, his foot connecting with a Venlordian’s stomach; then as his opponent hunched slightly, his fingers losing their firm grip, Raven took advantage and swung his sword, getting rid of the obstacle.

He jumped over the body in front of him, his own skin beaded with sweat, heart raging. Breaths shallow. He didn’t toy with enemy—plunged and pulled the sword back, sliced, and decapitated. Yet, he couldn’t see an end to it. They were like worms crawling out of their holes. No matter how many you killed, they just kept coming.

As he engaged two or three at a time, his eyes lost track of Amira.

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