Wicked (Eternal Guardians #9) - Elisabeth Naughton Page 0,48

to happen.

Her gaze darted back to the mountain of satyrs, each one clawing at Zagreus. If they found a way through Ehrendia’s defenses, every nymph and sileni death would be her fault. The satyrs would take over the castle. They’d throw the nymphs in those dungeon cells and torture them. Everything the nymphs had built, all the people living in this land would be lost because Talisa had trusted Ana. Because she’d been too stubborn to see another viewpoint. Because she’d only been focused on herself.

She glanced down at her arms, her sleeves shredded enough for her to faintly see the ancient Greek letters etched into her skin. Letters she’d always thought meant she was just as heroic as her father, as his forefathers before him. But… was she?

She hadn’t done anything heroic to earn these markings, not like her father. Not like the Argonauts he served with. If she really was a hero, she wouldn’t put innocent lives in danger while she ran to save herself. And she wouldn’t leave someone else to suffer when she could do something to help.

Determination swelled inside her, pushing aside the fear, giving her strength. Giving her purpose.

She ripped off the cloak and the dress’s useless cape then yanked at her shredded skirt, tearing it just above her knees so she wouldn’t trip. Gripping the dagger tightly, she raced back down the hillside.

The pack wasn’t looking at her. They were all too focused on Zagreus. As she approached, the closest satyr didn’t even startle at the sound of her footsteps. She reached around from the back and sliced right through his jugular.

The beast gasped, sputtered, and stumbled forward. But there was so much noise coming from the others, no one even noticed as he fought for life. Blood spurted. Before he fell, Talisa plucked the sword from his hand, turned, and sank the blade deep into the satyr to her right.

The second beast shrieked in pain. Heads lifted. Eyes turned her way.

Yanking the sword free, Talisa twisted as the monster fell to the ground, then hurled her dagger at a third satyr who’d decided to charge.

Her dagger hit the beast between the eyes, the blade sinking deep. Blood squirted in every direction. He dropped to the ground with a thud. Scooping the second satyr’s sword from the dirt so she had a blade in each hand, she swung out with both, battling through the beasts who’d taken notice of her attack and were advancing fast.

Growls and snarls echoed around her as she kicked, swiveled, and struck out with both blades, taking down beast after beast as they closed in around her. They jerked back every time she made a kill, recoiling at her blades. It gave her a chance to fight her way through, to find and get closer to Zagreus in the sea of bodies.

Metal clanked again and again, melding with the squelch of blood and howls of pain. The scent of death rose up around her. She shuffled back. At her feet, she spotted Zagreus’s arm lying still and bloody against the ground.

“Get up!” she screamed, ducking under a swinging mace.

Zagreus’s arm twitched. She shoved her foot into the satyr on top of him, knocked the beast to the ground, then swung out at another satyr who seemed to fly out of nowhere toward her head.

A burn cut across her left arm. Her blade connected with flesh and bone, slicing right through the beast’s neck.

Godsdammit. He wasn’t helping.

“I can’t do this by myself!” she screamed, realizing two more were closing in fast.

Sweat dripped into her eyes, messing with her vision. She arced out with the blade in her left hand, catching one satyr at the chest. He howled. Blood squirted over her and the ground as he fell at her feet. She shuffled back again, closer to Zagreus. Another satyr hit her leg with his knife, the burn making her grunt and stumble.

Righting herself, she ground her teeth and swiveled, sinking her blade deep into the beast’s chest. Lifting her foot, she shoved the sole of her sandal into his groin and pushed, sending him flying as she yanked her blade free with a squelching sound that echoed all around her.

She didn’t get a chance to rest. Another satyr charged. She swung out again with both blades.

Her back ached. Her arms hurt. She’d been hit across the biceps and thigh, but she kept fighting. From the corner of her vision, she realized Zagreus was trying to push himself up from the