Wrath of the Forgotten: Descendants of the Fall Book II by Hodges, Aaron (best romance books of all time txt) 📕

who had spoken of unbreakable promises and peace. Cara had become something else entirely. And all her attention was fixed on Yasin.

Screaming, Yasin leapt at Cara, sword flashing for her throat. The attack came suddenly, without warning, and despite herself Erika flinched. Cara only watched him come, that same sickly smile on her lips, until at the last moment she twisted, becoming a blur, and the sword cut empty air.

Carried forward by his momentum, Yasin found himself standing alongside the Goddess, sword pointing in the wrong direction. Snarling, he swung again, and this time Cara was forced to move, ducking beneath a wild sweep of his blade. She straightened almost instantly as Yasin stumbled past, her cold grey eyes still watching him, mocking him.

Yasin roared as he spun and stabbed out again. This time, Cara’s hand flashed down, catching the Flumeeren by the wrist. Cursing, he tried to pull himself free, but Cara didn’t seem to notice his efforts. She looked into his eyes, then her grip tightened. And the rogue started to scream.

Erika’s hair stood on end as the sharp crack of breaking bones carried to her ears. Steel clashed against rock as the sword tumbled from the man’s fingers. Then suddenly he was free, released from the Goddess’s grip. He stumbled away, hand held up before him, and Erika choked, her stomach roiling.

His wrist was bent where Cara had held him, a shard of bone jabbing from the flesh. A moan rattled from Yasin as he stared at the mangled limb, but adrenaline must have swamped the pain, for as Cara moved again he screamed, and dropping his left hand to his belt, he drew a dagger. Face twisted in agony, he drew back his hand to hurl the blade.

Cara moved faster still, her wings beating down, sending her hurtling forward. Before Yasin knew what was happening she was upon him, his left arm now in her grasp. The cold smile spread as he cried out, a plea on his lips…

…it turned to a shriek as she wrenched. Another crunch echoed through the canyon.

Yasin staggered back from Cara, dagger on the ground, mangled arms held before him. His screams were constant now. Erika could hardly bare to watch, though this was the man who had killed her father, who had cast her entire life into the void. The murderer’s face was pale and tears ran from his eyes as he retreated from Cara, shaking his head, pleading.

The Goddess stalked after him, and with a mortal cry, Yasin turned to flee.

Like a cat with a mouse, Cara pounced. She moved with a languid confidence now, of a predator that knew its prey could not escape. Her boot flashed out, catching the Flumeeren in the side of his knee. Another crack punctuated the blow.

Yasin slammed into the rocks, his cries breaking off as the impact drove the breath from his lungs. Cara stood over him, wings spread, icy eyes watching him. She was still smiling. A desperate moan came from the man as he finally caught his breath. It turned to sobs as he looked up and saw the Goddess.

“Please, Gods, no—”

She broke his other leg.

Unable to bear it any longer, Erika looked away. A shudder ran down her spine as her gaze fell on the gauntlet. It was still in her hand, but the thought of putting it on now turned her insides to liquid. If this was what the magic of the Gods could do to the peaceful, good-humoured woman she had known, what would it do to her?

A sudden silence fell across the canyon as Yasin’s final scream was cut off. Erika flinched, and looking up, she noticed Maisie. There was fear in the eyes of the spy. Steeling herself, Erika looked for her friend…and stifled a scream as she found Cara standing just a few feet away.

Blood covered the Goddess’s tunic, still dripped from her hands. The scream again built in Erika’s throat as she looked into Cara’s grey eyes and saw the madness there, the thirst for blood. A snarl rumbled from the Goddess’s chest as she bared her teeth and stepped towards her.

“Cara…”

The voice was so soft, Erika barely caught it on the wind, but the Goddess heard. Her head whipped around as though she’d been struck, grey eyes fixing on the crumpled figure in the mouth of the pass. Romaine had not moved from where he’d fallen, and Erika swallowed at the sight of blood staining the rock beneath him.

Glancing at the Goddess, Erika watched as Cara blinked. Once, twice, three times. Then the grey was gone, the amber returned. Tears spilt down her cheeks as she cried out. In a second she was at the Calafe’s side, crouching beside him, reaching for the bolt that still protruded from his chest.

“Don’t,” Romaine breathed.

“Romaine,” Cara whispered, hand still outstretched, voice filled with pain.

Erika moved closer, her own vision blurring at the sight of the fallen Calafe warrior.

“Is it…done?” the man croaked, trying to lift his head.

A moan built in Cara’s throat as she looked at where the mangled remains of Yasin lay. Erika could see her horror—and something else. Terror at what she’d done? Quickly Erika moved alongside them, crouching on Romaine’s other side.

“He’s gone, Romaine,” she murmured. “We’re safe.”

“Good,” Romaine whispered. “Good.”

“Romaine, no…” Cara sobbed, grasping at his shirt, Yasin’s blood mingling with the Calafe’s. “No, please don’t, you saved me, you can’t...”

“Ah, little one,” Romaine replied. He reached up with a trembling hand, touching it to her face. “Don’t cry. I couldn’t…let him hurt you. Couldn’t fail…anyone else. Ahh…but that hurts…”

“My people, they’ll help you,” Cara gasped. “We’re so close, just don’t go, please, promise me.”

A smile touched Romaine’s face, but his eyes no longer seemed to see them. “No, little one,” he whispered. “No, not…this time. They’re…waiting for me.”

Air whispered from his throat in a long, unending sigh. Erika crouched alongside him, waiting for the next whisper of breath. It never came. The keening sounded in Cara’s throat again, but this