Their Fireheart

Chapter Forty Two

Cassian

Cursing under my breath, I jumped backwards as one of the wyrdhounds swiped at me, its razor-sharp talons extending the ungodly reach of its already massive arms. We'd been so close - so fucking close - before the beasts had snuck up on us. Why could nothing go right in this accursed land?

And godsdamn they were vile, the king's guardians. Their monstrous forms were somehow both fluid and stiff, like puppets on some sort of invisible string, and they emanated the same sense of inherent wrongness that the clocktower had - though thankfully much less potent.

Not that it made them any less dangerous.

Flesh-shredding stone teeth curved out of their serpentine snouts, flashing when they lunged forward to rip and tear into us. Their obsidian scales melted into the walls of the sewer tunnels, making them difficult to track as they slithered through the darkness.

Ahead of me, Rowan swung his sword at one of them, forcing it to fall back with a howl as his blade pierced through the stone and into the tender flesh beneath. But not enough to keep it down, to kill it.

No, these wyrdhounds were unlike any other monstrosity I'd ever encountered. Already hard to kill, they were also viciously smart, seeming to sense whenever a blow threatened to be deadly, skittering out of the way just in time. Like some sort of infernal cockroach, nothing we did kept them down for long.

Another wyrdhound leapt from the shadows, towards me this time. I struck out at it with my blade, forcing it to retreat. For now.

With an intelligence that didn't seem possible, the seven of them converged on us. One popping up to attack as soon as one of them had retreated. Never allowing us enough time to seriously maim them, but keeping them from seriously harming us in return.

Rage bubbled in my gut as the minutes ticked by, every passing second dragging us further and further off-course from the timeline Aelin had drilled into our heads.

Side by side, the six of us had been pushed back to back, conceding a few precious feet to get into a more protected formation. Driven just out of reach of the spool of fuse I'd be forced to drop. Throughout it all, I kept one eye on the streak of white wire, ready to make a dash for it at a moment's notice.

A clanging, miserable noise rang out, and a razor-sharp pain pierced my skull.

In the span between clangs, four of the wyrdhounds lunged to attack. Rowan and Rhysand slashed two of them with blows that would have disemboweled most creatures.

My jaw clenched when I realized what that miserable noise was, what it meant. The clock tower. Noon.

The wyrdhounds kept us locked in a stalemate, dodging killing blows, keeping out of our reach.

Keeping us from getting to the fuse. Fuck.

I swore filthily, launching forward in an assault that engaged three of them at once. Realizing what I was doing, Rowan and Azriel flanked me, engaging two each. The wyrdhounds could not be allowed to hold their line.

We had promised Aelin noon. As the sun began to reach its apex on the solstice, we'd bring the tower crashing down, that's what we had promised our mate. What she was counting on.

I snarled when the final clang of the clock tower sounded. Noon had come and gone.

And my little warrior, the queen of my heart, was in that castle above us - left without her magic, with only the human captain, only her mortal training and wits to keep her alive. But for how much longer?

No. Fucking no. I was not going to lose my mate, not to this loathsome king, nor to any other.

I refused to even entertain those thoughts.