Chapter 61
The battlefield was chaos.
The once-pristine valley had been turned into a warzone of blood and steel, soldiers fighting desperately on either side, screams of the dying lost in the clashing of swords. Arrows rained down, shields splintered, and the ground trembled beneath the force of combat.
At the center of it all, two men moved toward one another.
Tharx and Draxis.
The Emperor and the Rebel Warlord.
Aeliana, bound and forced onto a raised platform, could do nothing but watch. Her pulse pounded in her ears as Draxis smirked, wiping a speck of blood from his jaw.
"You finally made it," he called out, voice rich with amusement. "And here I thought you might send your dogs instead."
Tharx said nothing. He moved forward, the black blade in his hand dripping with the blood of those who had dared stand between him and her. His golden eyes burned, but it wasn't rage. It was something colder. Something far more terrifying.
Draxis spread his arms, ever the showman. "Shall we put an end to this?"
The battlefield stilled.
Even the soldiers hesitated, stepping back, parting to form a ring around them.
A duel.
A final battle to decide the empire's fate.
Tharx tilted his head, finally speaking. "Draw your weapon."
Draxis grinned. "With pleasure."
Their swords met like lightning.
The force of the first clash sent a ringing shockwave through the air, steel grinding against steel, sparks flying in the dimming light.
Draxis was fast-his strikes were powerful, unrelenting, precise.
But Tharx was lethal.
Where Draxis swung to dominate, Tharx calculated. He sidestepped, dodged, twisted at the last second, forcing Draxis to waste energy on empty swings.
Aeliana's breath caught in her throat as Tharx delivered a brutal counter, his blade slicing across Draxis's side.
Blood.
Draxis stumbled but laughed.
"You're fighting harder than usual," he taunted. "Tell me, Tharx-" He wiped at the wound, examining the blood on his hand. "What is it that's driving you? The empire? Power?"
His eyes flicked to Aeliana.
Her.
Tharx's movements sharpened.
He lunged, faster than she had ever seen him move.
Draxis barely blocked in time. He grunted, sliding back against the dirt. His grin faltered.
Tharx wasn't fighting for power.
He was fighting to kill.
The warlord snarled, his arrogance slipping. He swung wide, trying to take control, but Tharx caught the blow against his vambrace, shoving forward.
Draxis's blade was knocked away.
In an instant, Tharx drove his sword into his chest.
Draxis let out a choked sound, eyes wide with disbelief.
Blood bubbled at his lips as he looked down at the blade lodged in his torso. His knees buckled, the warlord who had terrorized the empire now falling.
Tharx twisted the sword, driving it deeper.
Draxis gasped-his body jerked-and then stilled.
A moment later, he collapsed.
Dead.
For a single, stretched breath, the battlefield was silent.
Then-
The rebellion broke.
Draxis's men, leaderless, terrified, turned to flee. Some threw down their weapons in surrender, others tried to escape into the hills.
But Tharx's forces were merciless.
The battle was won.
But Tharx did not care.
His golden eyes snapped toward the platform-toward her.
Aeliana was still bound, held in place by Draxis's remaining guards. The moment their leader had fallen, they had hesitated, unsure what to do.
Tharx gave them no time to decide.
He moved.
Aeliana barely saw the strikes-only the aftermath.
One of the soldiers fell with a clean slice across his throat.
Another tried to run-Tharx cut him down with a single, brutal movement.
The last threw his hands up in surrender.
Tharx didn't even hesitate.
Aeliana flinched at the spray of blood.
And then-he was there.
Tharx grabbed her wrists, tearing the ropes free. She gasped as her hands fell forward, stinging from where the bindings had cut into her skin.
Before she could process it, Tharx's hands were on her face, his touch strong, grounding.
She barely had time to breathe before his mouth crashed against hers.
Aeliana gasped, the taste of war and fire and something desperate on his lips. His grip was possessive, unyielding, like he had spent every second of this battle holding himself back from doing this.
Her hands-shaking, uncertain-slowly curled into the fabric of his armor.
This was not control.
This was not restraint.
This was Tharx undone.
When he pulled away, he did not let go.
His hands remained on her, one at her jaw, the other sliding down to rest against her lower back. His golden eyes, fierce and raw, locked onto hers.
His voice was hoarse, unsteady.
"I adore you."
Aeliana froze.
Tharx did not say things like that. Not in words.
His forehead pressed against hers.
"I will never let anyone take you from me again," he murmured, voice rough, like he could barely believe she was still standing there.
Aeliana swallowed, her throat tight. "Tharx"
He exhaled, his grip on her tightening slightly, like he was terrified she would vanish.
"I thought I lost you," he admitted, barely a whisper.
Her heart ached.
Aeliana had spent so long questioning, wondering-was she just a political pawn? A weapon? A consort?
But here, in his arms, with the world burning around them, she knew the truth.
He would burn everything for her.
She cupped his face, her fingers brushing against the dried blood on his cheek.
"I'm here," she whispered.
Tharx's breath shook.
Then, slowly-he kissed her again.
Not brutal. Not possessive.
But soft.
Like he couldn't believe she was real.
The war was won.
But this battle had always been about them.