of wind tearing into him with the tiny stones from the cavern floor. Disoriented, he swung his blade again, taking pleasure in the way it bit into her once more, but the strix bared her teeth. Even as she twisted in pain, she slapped him away with her wing. A piercing shriek filled his head with bolts of pain.
At his side, Diana cried out as she crumpled. He turned to make his way back to his mate, but she flashed him a savage snarl as she drew to her feet once more. Tears of pain streaming down her cheeks, she raised her bow and let loose another series of arrows. Half missed their target, but the satisfying sounds of the hits echoed through the cave.
The strix’s shrill cry ended with a wet, choked sound as Mora gurgled, two arrows buried in her throat. Claws raked down the flesh in an attempt to dislodge them, blood spewing. Silvas sent another volley of aetheric claws that had Mora stumbling back, her feathers darkening as the blood seeped from her copious wounds. But still, she stood!
Circling around, he stepped close to his mate, his eyes scanning the strix. Between his sword, his aetheric claws, and the aelven arrows, the strix should have been brought down many times, even if drawing the power of Nocis from wherever it was hidden in her nest. Cursing, Diana tossed aside her bow, her quiver empty. Pulling out her sword, she gave it a slow practice swing to warm up her shoulder. She gave him a small, tight smile, her own blood streaking down her body, not only from the wounds he had inflicted in his madness but also from the strix’s magic ripping into her.
“Silvas… I don’t know how long…”
A soft smile curved his lips. Even wearied she was at his side. He couldn’t ask for more in a mate. Perhaps his mother’s meddling had worked in his favor after all. Reaching a hand for her, his thumb caressed her cheek. “Only for as long as you can manage,” he murmured. “When you cannot, find a place to hide until it is finished. I will protect you, uxorem. You’ve done more than enough.”
Her lips parted as she met his eyes, but after a considerable pause, she nodded in agreement.
Dropping his hand, he squinted around the room, his eyes skimming over the strix attempting to steady herself. “If only I knew where it was,” he muttered. Turning his gaze back toward Mora, he stiffened at the sight of the large strix charging toward them. Her claws reached outward, the broken remnants hooking as her mouth opened wide soundlessly. Without her enchanted voice, she was falling back on her most basic attack.
Silvas stepped away from Diana as they both raised their swords. When the strix leaped forward, they moved together as one, striking, driving their swords into the creature. Silvas reached up and dug the claws of his opposite hand into Mora’s wing. A papery tearing sound rang out as he wrenched the wing, tearing it viciously with the full force of his strength. Blood splashed as the strix gurgled pitifully, her yellow eyes shining with hate.
He followed the action by swiftly breaking her arm before she could attempt to gore him with her claws. Diana hadn’t managed to tear the other wing, but it was noticeably broken in a place where her sword had struck it, flapping uselessly. The arm that the strix had attempted to strike her with was ravaged with numerous cuts until it looked nearly butchered, just barely holding together with sinew and bone. It was gruesome, but effective, and Silvas felt an upwelling of pride.
The good feeling was interrupted as Mora attempted to snake down her head to bite him, but he reached up and grasped her jaw as he twisted his sword. With a downward yank, he heard the satisfying sound of bone breaking as her jaw shattered in his hand. Rotting ooze and saliva dripped all over his hand, and he sighed. He was definitely going to have to clean himself thoroughly before he touched his uxorem again. Pulling his sword free, he watched dispassionately as the strix dropped to the ground where it writhed pitifully. His lips peeling back in a snarl, he stabbed his sword into the body.
“Die already!” he hissed!
Mora gurgled, and he suspected it was with laughter. With the power of the sword, given time that which remained of her body would gradually knit together. Whether her wing