When he opened his eyes and blinked the spots away, he was stunned to see Charmeine—the real one and not Pyke—standing beside him.
Lucien turned slowly, perhaps sensing his love had been released. Carrick’s gaze flicked to Micah, whose chest was heaving with fury.
“Lucien?” Charmeine said, her voice filled with wonder and relief and joy and every good feeling she must have at seeing her long-lost love.
“Charmeine,” he replied, voice cracking with emotion.
She flew the few short paces to him and then she was in his arms. Lucien kissed her hard.
Carrick’s heart warmed and he experienced a surge of joy for his brother, but it was short-lived as Charmeine tore away from the kiss. Her body stiffened and her back arched so severely, Lucien unwrapped his arms from around her and held her gently by the waist. When she let out an agonized scream of pain, Carrick’s eyes shifted to Micah, who held his arm out and aimed at Charmeine, his fist closed tightly as if he were holding something within it.
No, not holding.
Squeezing.
Squeezing Charmeine’s body with his magic.
Charmeine writhed in pain while Lucien watched helplessly. She screamed again. Carrick watched Micah’s expression, which was so hate-filled he wasn’t shocked when Charmeine went suddenly silent. Falling limp, Lucien caught her, cradled her, and lowered her gently to the ground as he fell to his knees. A small trickle of black blood—a nod to her fae heritage and not a darkness within her—slipped from the corner of her mouth.
Then, as all Light Fae do when they die, Charmeine burst apart in a shower of glowing white sparks, some carried off quickly by the wind and others falling to the ground where they extinguished.
Lucien bowed his head but a moment, but when he lifted it and turned slowly to look over his shoulder at Micah, Carrick was actually frightened by his expression.
It wasn’t angry, hurt, or even shocked.
It was devoid of everything, which was why Carrick was startled when Lucien came to his feet and flew at Micah. Despite the size difference, he caught the beast with his shoulder just at the waist and they both went flying several yards before hurtling to the ground, not twenty yards from the Crimson River.
It struck Carrick very quickly that Micah’s powers had become so immense he was able to kill Charmeine, a Light Fae, without the use of iron. As far as he knew, the only fae with that power were Nimeyah, her husband Callidan, and their children, Deandra and Pyke. But just because Pyke had the power to do what Micah just did, did not mean he was immune to it being done to him.
“Go,” Carrick shouted at Pyke, who was watching Lucien sitting on Micah’s chest and punching him repeatedly in his monstrous face. Pyke jerked, looked at Carrick, and understood the missive.
He nodded and bent distance, disappearing. Carrick knew Pyke would go back to the rip and start urging the others through. Just as he knew Titus would be exiting, too. They had planned if Micah showed powers that could annihilate immortal creatures, Titus would become responsible for making sure Finley was protected. Carrick could only assume—and hope to fuck—that he was with her now.
The heat from the lava river caused sweat to pour from Lucien’s face, but his expression was dead despite the unsavory conditions as he continued to pummel the beast. Micah roared in fury at the assault Lucien was relentlessly hammering down on him. With a mighty heave, he used both fists to punch Lucien in the chest. The force was enough to throw Lucien off and he tumbled across the black beach before coming to his knees.
Glancing down at the chalice in his hand, Carrick was startled to see the Blood Stone was still red, but the color of the large center facet had deepened so immensely it looked almost black.
He had the chalice and the Blood Stone in his hand. He could feel the power they still held, which was just as deep as when Charmeine was inside the gem. Pulling her out and killing her had not weakened either the stone or the chalice.
Lucien came to his feet, as did Micah.
Demi-god versus Dark Fae monster.
Chests heaving, determination in both their eyes.
They’d gotten closer to the Crimson River, and Micah threw it a wary glance as he attempted to circle on Lucien.
Put him closer to the river.
Lucien wouldn’t give the ground though, and flew at Micah. Micah responded, lunging toward Lucien with such speed, Carrick barely could register it. Both used their preternatural powers to pummel each other in a blinding blur.
Another glance at the chalice and Carrick was torn. He knew Lucien would want him to escape while Micah was otherwise pre-occupied. It would ensure everyone but Lucien’s safety.
But looking back at the whirling, speeding creatures trying to kill each other, Carrick knew he couldn’t go. While he’d stack Lucien’s physical power up against Micah’s—even though Micah was so much taller and wider—Carrick was afraid of the magic Micah now possessed. Seeing him obliterate Charmeine with nothing but his mind and a squeeze of his hand had Carrick worried.