Chapter 587 Failure

If you like music while you're reading, try "Ain't No Grave – Epic Trailer Version" by Hidden Citizens + Adam Christopher. It's what I was listening to while I wrote this!

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AARYN

The hammock bumped to the ground and Aaryn was on his feet, sprinting for the cave mouth amid cries from the guards and patrols that had seen them coming.

The birds called, telling them it was Aaryn, as he ran as fast as his legs could carry him into the cave.

Two sentries stood at the tunnel mouth, both leveling their spears when they heard his footsteps, but he didn't even slow.

"I am your King and you will submit, I go at the order of the Queen!" he snarled, throwing every ounce of his Alpha power into the words.

The guards shuddered and dropped to their knees, their spears clattering to the stone floor.

Then, as the portal bloomed that blueish white and began to swirl, he leaped through.

He didn't take a moment to even think, just hurried forward, eyes fixed on the pinpoint of light at the other end of the tunnel.

But after only two hasty steps, there was a hollow rush of voices on a storm wind and Aaryn shuddered to a halting walk as the presence of evil became so overwhelming it seemed to coat his skin.

"Son of the Traitor!"

"Failure!"

"You think us so weak you do not even bleed?!"

"Stupid, stupid, fake King."

Laughter echoed across the cavern and Aaryn's heart sank. He'd forgotten to open his veins. He'd forgotten. How could he have forgotten?! Creator's fang!

He hadn't brought a blade. He'd been in such a hurry—

Laughing and swirling like an approaching hurricane, the voices began to circle him, their dry, needling words pricking at him like they would slice his skin for him. The scent of death billowed around him like smoke and Aaryn's heart began to ache.

He was going to fail her. After everything. After they'd come so far and she'd been so brave, he was going to fail her from sheer stupidity.

"Yessss," a voice hissed right in his ear, the whisp of a touch at his shoulder. "Yes, you'll fail because that is what you do. You aren't enough, little King—can't you see? You aren't enough. You aren't worth the cost. You've never been worth the price."

Aaryn set his jaw, locked his eyes on the light at the other end, and started walking, but it was as if he pushed through water—worse, a bog. His muscles fought and his breath tore in and out of his throat.

"Give in."

"Give in."

"Give in."

"We can make this so much easier for you."

"We'll carry you through if you only take us with you."

"You won't fail. You'll be the hero. Not so small, the hero King!"

The word echoed around the chamber, bouncing from the unseen ceiling to batter his ears again and again.

"No," he muttered, gritting his teeth and pushing forward two more steps.

"If you do not, you will still fail, because we'll take her from you."

"We have spies among her people now."

"So many spies."

"She ushered them in with her stupidity, her pride—believing the Anima above petty resentment? Above vengeance? Stupid, stupid Queen."

"We will taste her blood."

"So run on your little mission, little King—while you run, we will take her with our spies and you'll return to her cold, lifeless body."

An image appeared in his mind then, of him returning to Anima, stepping out of the cave, his heart light and hope alive because he'd been successful… but the guards weeping.

The Tree City humming with the keen of mourning as the people raise their calls to honor their Queen.

Their dead Queen.

"Is it worth it?"

Aaryn stopped in his tracks, heart pounding. "No."

He wasn't sure if the word was to resist them or to answer the question. And he hesitated. The voices cackled.

"Smart King to listen."

"Strong King to make his own decision."

"Silly King if you don't rush back. Take us with you, we'll stop the spies, we'll keep her safe. Just for you."

"Go back."

"Go back."

Aaryn gagged, his body repulsed and driven at the same time, his hands twitching with the urge to go back to her. Images of her, beaten and bruised, stabbed, her neck snapped, they flickered through his head until he groaned her name.

He turned to look over his shoulder. That portal was still so much closer. The one ahead… he turned back and looked at his, his stomach sinking, going cold. He could never make it. Why had he forgotten to cut himself?

The voices chittered and coaxed, taunted and threatened. And he tried to close his ears. But he couldn't close his mind from the images they threw at him—all of them of a dead and broken mate.

"Please," he prayed. "Help me."

A hand made of air plucked at his shirt and he flinched. The voices cackled.

"Please," he prayed. "Please… how…?"

This is the moment.

It was the voice of the Creator, speaking to his heart. The conviction came to him with such clarity, it jolted his eyes wide.

What is most important, Aaryn? What is right? Will you choose what you know to be true, even at cost to yourself? Or will you give in to your own wants and choose darkness that serves you?

A sob broke in his throat. She wouldn't want him to give up. He knew that. She'd insist that he saved the people.

He shuddered. "What if they're true? What if they kill her?"

She can't be taken from my hand without my permission. And she cannot be kept from death if I do not desire it. Choose what is right, Aaryn. Choose truth. Choose and walk into the future, however it may look.

"She's… the most precious thing…"

Even more than me, who made her for you?

Aaryn shuddered again, coughing as his stomach wanted to revolt, but there was nothing in it.

The voices echoes and rushed around his head, laughing, taunting, pleading with him. The portal was ahead, a tiny piece of light in a literal world of darkness.

What will you choose, Aaryn? That firm but gentle voice said in his heart. Your own love, or the love for the good of others?

Aaryn sobbed. His mate was behind him—she and their entire people, all held to ransom by the evil that inhabited this place.

The evil that he'd been equipped to fight.

"Silly King, little King."

"Only we can save her now!"

Aaryn looked at his arm, then forward to the portal ahead. One of his tears dripped from his cheek and slapped to the dusty earth under his feet, leaving a tiny splash mark that was immediately turned dark by the dirt that clung to it and was absorbed.

It looked like blood.

He knew what he had to do.

Aaryn closed his eyes and pleaded with the Creator for a miracle. He pleaded for her life, and for his own. And he pleaded for the strength.

Then, as the voices rushed close, ruffling his hair and drawing smoke claws along his shoulders, he growled, "No!"

He bit into his own skin to let blood flow. Then, as the voices shrieked and sucked away to give him space, he put one foot in front of the other.

Towards the portal to the human world.