A Clash of Storms (A Shade of Vampire #50)(60)

My heart genuinely hurt at the sight of him in so much pain. I cried too, unable to hold it back anymore, and Draven took me in his arms in response, keeping me close as I felt all the grief pouring out of Patrik.

“I only managed to hug her once and tell her how happy I was to see her after all these years,” Tamara mumbled. “Then we were separated in the battle…”

“She put up a good fight,” one of the Maras who had brought her over said slowly. “But a Destroyer caught her off guard. We couldn’t save her, but we killed the beast that did this to her…”

Tamara looked up, her yellow eyes glazed with tears, and nodded at the Maras. No one could be blamed for this. This was the result of war. Even in victory, we were bound to mourn creatures we loved. It hurt deeply, but there was nothing we could do. There wasn’t even anything any of us could say.

Vita cried next to me, Bijarki holding her close. Aida was wiping tears of her own. They’d both seen her. They knew her well enough to understand the hole she left behind in death. After all, Vita had risked a lot to set Kyana free.

“At least she died free.” Tamara shuddered and doubled over, hiding her face in her palms as she cried.

It would take a long time for Eritopia to recover, I realized as I looked around. This had been a fierce and violent war. Thousands had perished, and many more before them under Azazel’s cruel reign. The blood of millions was on his hands, but, thankfully, he was now dead. Asherak, the very darkness that had seduced Azazel into turning against his own world, was lying at the bottom of the pink waters on Mount Agrith, never to be seen or heard from again.

Still, they’d left behind so much blood. So much grief and suffering. There was so much to be done to help Eritopia recover, to help its people heal and rebuild, for peace to be restored and maintained.

In our immediate vicinity, there were bodies that needed to be moved to the funeral pyre and creatures that needed their wounds looked after. There were fires to be put out around Luceria—and there were nineteen more planets to be reacquainted with freedom.

The sun was setting quietly in the west, exploding in violent shades of pink and orange, while a blanket of stars gently emerged from the east. Nightfall would soon be upon us. I leaned into Draven and allowed his golden energy to feed me and replenish my strength.

He pressed his lips against my temple, his breath warm on my face, and I took solace in the thought that no matter what lay ahead of us in the days to come, we were together.

We’d survived.





Serena





A couple of hours passed as we helped restore some sense of order to the chaos that followed the battle of Luceria. The dungeons downstairs were repurposed to hold all the incubi who had continued fighting for Azazel during the siege. Piles of fallen warriors burned under the late sunset, black smoke billowing into the dark red sky.

We gathered in the throne room, which was now dark and empty. Vita went in first with a candle, using her fae abilities to throw flickers of fire at all the torches on the black walls and the massive iron chandeliers hanging overhead. A warm amber light enveloped the room, revealing the large podium and sumptuous chair that had served as Azazel’s throne.

Large paintings decorated the walls, among which was a portrait of a younger Azazel, before he’d become a Destroyer. It filled me with a mixture of dread and sadness, as I tried to understand the motives that had led to his fall into darkness. Sure, it all had to do with greed and the thirst for power, but something had triggered that, and it was something that I couldn’t wrap my head around. What was it that drove a creature naturally inclined toward good to go on such a murderous rampage? What could have made him attempt to destroy everything that his entire species stood for?

Phoenix broke my train of thought, returning from a cleanup session on a lower level and joining me, Draven, Jovi, Aida, Field, Vita, Bijarki, Anjani, Hansa, Jax, and the rest of our alliance. The young Druids moved around the room, looking at the wall art and occasionally frowning as they exchanged glances—they recognized some of the portrayed figures as former Master Druids, most likely.

Tamara, Patrik, and Thadeus had also joined us, along with Damion, who’d returned from Mount Agrith after delivering Nova to her sisters. Damion’s eyes were red and puffy, as he’d been reunited with the young Druids and had been told that Cayron had been killed years ago. Heron and all of Jax’s wards were with us, too, as were our three shifters, now reunited with the fourth that Damion had taken to Mount Agrith. Grezzi, Zeriel, Wren, Rebel, Thorn, and Jasmine were the last to arrive, leaving the others to continue cleaning up outside and preparing for Kyana’s funeral pyre.

We gathered in a wide circle in front of the throne, looking at each other with smiling eyes. We’d been through a lot, but we’d lived to tell the tale. It was now time to go over the next steps so we could smooth Eritopia’s transition back into peace as much as possible. It was also time for us to catch our breath.

“All of Azazel’s minions are in the dungeons now.” Grezzi was the first to speak. “They will get a fair trial, once we nominate five unbiased judges from the free nations.”

“They’ll get better prison conditions than those they helped incarcerate, though,” Hansa muttered.

“We can’t be vile and vengeful like Azazel,” Draven replied. “It’s time we set a higher standard and uphold justice. Although we all know what they deserve, Eritopia’s laws must be restored and respected.”