CHAPTER 141: NOT HIM

Aelin

Ariston moved like a force of nature — his blade flashing in arcs of silver, eyes locked onto the masked worshipper with a merciless focus.

I’d seen him fight before, but never like this. But it gave me a view of how he must have fought in battles and in the war.

Each swing of his sword pushed the enemy back. Each strike cut deeper — into flesh, into shadows. The masked one tried to parry, to dodge, to lash out with clawed fingers and bursts of abyssal magic, but Ariston was relentless.

And yet—

I couldn’t find the core.

I stood just a few feet behind, shield still flickering weakly around me, my hand outstretched. The golden thread kept flickering, slipping in and out of existence. Every time I thought I had it locked, the worshipper twisted or jumped or bent at an impossible angle, severing the line.

My heartbeat thundered in my ears.

Come on— come on—

Ariston landed a brutal blow across the enemy’s chest, blood and shadow splattering across the ground, and the masked figure let out a ragged scream. He stumbled, his movements faltering.

That was when I saw it.

A flicker of gold. A thin thread — not toward the stomach like the last, but just under the ribcage, low and hidden, like it had been deliberately buried in his body.

My breath caught.

"There," I whispered. "I found you."

I began to call on my magic, the golden fire coiling into my palm. I raised my arm to strike—

But the worshipper suddenly stopped.

He went still, blade at his side, blood dripping from his torn robes.

Ariston paused too, confused for just a breath.

That was all it took.

The worshipper lifted a hand — not at Ariston, not at me, but to the sky.

"No—" I cried.

A black, roiling substance burst from his fingers like a whip of smoke. It spiraled upward and ignited in the air with a sharp pop, like a flare.

A signal.

A call.

Too late—!

My flame released.

White-gold fire shot forward like a meteor, slamming directly into the core. The masked figure didn’t even scream. The fire devoured him in an instant

Silence fell.

...

!!!

The air split with a shriek.

Monsters — more of them — burst into the clearing like a black tide, their screeches reverberating through my chest. I threw my hands up, a shield snapping into place just as the first one lunged toward me. The impact sent tremors down my spine, but it held. I could hear Ariston shouting behind me — he came rushing in, blade slicing clean through one of the beasts before it reached me.

"Behind you!" I yelled, throwing a quick flick of flame to the side, just enough to burn through the abyss thread of another creature.

But there were too many. The signal had worked.

The monsters were swarming in from every angle now, black, twisted, hunched things with hollow mouths and elongated limbs. My breathing quickened — there were too many. My magic took time to work, I needed to see inside them, to find that flicker of corruption, the abyss core, and strike it true. But they were moving too fast. Too wildly. I couldn’t keep up.

Ariston stood like a wall in front of me, blocking three of them with brutal efficiency. His sword was a blur of silver and fire, slicing limbs, driving back the nightmare creatures before they could reach me again.

I was just beginning to lift my hand again, to scan another monster, when—

CRACK.

A tree to the far side of the clearing snapped like a toothpick, and a body crashed through it with the force of a comet. The trunk splintered and fell, and the earth trembled with the weight of it.

I turned toward the sound, the spell flickering in my palm forgotten.

Dust.

Leaves.

Blood.

And through it all—

Alishay.

She was sprawled across the broken ground, her limbs barely moving, her robes in tatters. Her skin — what remained of it — was scorched, blistered, glowing faintly with the residue of fire attacks. She wasn’t healing fast enough. Her cursed blood should have fixed this damage but I guess burns is a separate story since anything related to the abyss is weak to fire.

Her regeneration couldn’t keep up with being scorched from the inside out.

Then I saw him.

Draegon.

He emerged from the trees like a walking storm — his arms were drenched in black, thick blood. It dripped from his knuckles, coated his chest. But it wasn’t his blood.

It was hers.

He didn’t hesitate. The moment he stepped out of the woods, he advanced on Alishay again, rage carved into every line of his face. His fists clenched. His wings flared behind him like torn shadows. I had never seen him like this.

Alishay looked up at him, her eyes glassy with pain, and yet not surprised.

"No," she whispered, raising her hand as if in surrender, "just finish it already."

But Draegon didn’t stop. He reached her in three long strides and slammed his foot down into her side, the impact sending her skidding along the earth.

I flinched.

He was deliberately taking his time to finish her off.

She choked on a cry. A rib had cracked, maybe more. But still — he didn’t aim to kill. He hit her again, dragging her upright by her collar and punching her square in the face, sending her crumpling to the dirt again.

"Finish it," she hissed, voice raw, "please. Finish it."

"Not after what you did," Draegon growled, seething with fury. "Not after what you did to my family."

My heart fluttered

She bled freely now. Her eyes blinked slowly. The fight was leaving her, her body far too wrecked to stand.

I should’ve stepped forward. I should’ve said something.

But I couldn’t move.

And then—

It happened.

Draegon raised his fist again, his face twisted with fury. But his body suddenly jolted. A sharp, guttural cough tore from his throat and he staggered back.

"Draegon?" I breathed, panic seizing me.

He turned slightly, hand rising to his mouth—

And black blood spilled from between his fingers.

!!!

"No... no, no, no," I whispered,

His eyes were wide. The blood seeped fast. He tried to steady himself but dropped to one knee, his body heaving as another wave of corrupted blood poured from his mouth.

From the ground, Alishay’s eyes snapped open.

She saw her chance.

She moved — impossibly fast despite her battered state. And Draegon — coughing, blinded, stunned — didn’t react in time.

"NO!" I screamed.

But it was too late.

Her hand, glowing with a sick, shadowed light, drove forward like a blade — and plunged straight into his chest.

Straight through his heart.

!!!

The sound of it — that tearing, wet impact — broke something in me.

Draegon gasped. His body arched. For a moment, his wings trembled... then went still.

I didn’t expect the sound that came next.

Laughter.

Cruel. Triumphant.

Alishay laughed as her arm plunged into Draegon’s chest — straight through muscle and bone — until her hand was buried in him. Her fingers twisted, and Draegon gasped, the wind ripped out of him.

"Oh," she said with a breathy, almost joyful sigh, "That felt even better than I imagined."

My world stopped.

Draegon was still staring at her. Not with rage now — not even with pain — but with a kind of stunned disbelief.

"Didn’t think I had it in me, did you?" Alishay cooed, her voice lilting with madness. Her body was still scorched, still shaking, but she leaned in closer, almost forehead to forehead with her brother. "But of course, I would have to end you first before I finished the other two."

My blood turned to ice. She was talking about killing all her brothers.

And I couldn’t comprehend why. I didn’t like my siblings either, but never had I wished for their death, especially not like this.

Draegon coughed again, but this time no sound came. Just the wet gurgle of air and blood struggling to escape.

"No," I whispered.

Alishay’s mouth twisted into a grin. "I win."

And then she twisted her arm — inside him.

"NO!"

Not Him

The scream ripped from my throat before I even realized it. My legs moved on instinct. I didn’t care that the monsters were still out there. I didn’t care that Ariston was shouting behind me. I didn’t care that Alishay could very well kill me next.

All I could see was him.

Draegon.

He was still upright — barely — but his wings twitching, folding in like wounded limbs. His eyes were locked on Alishay’s, not with hatred now but... sorrow.

"Why...?" he rasped, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. He tried to stand up, she let him and he barely managed it

Alishay leaned in closer, her lips brushing his ear.

"Because I don’t like you, I don’t like any of you,"

Black blood sprayed across the ground.

Draegon staggered backward — one, two steps — his chest heaving, one hand going to the wound, as if he could somehow hold himself together.

He fell to his knees again.

No. No. No.

The word pulsed in my chest louder than my heartbeat. Louder than the roar in my ears. Louder than the chaos behind me.

There was blood.

Red—too much of it. Pouring from the wound, slipping down the front of him in thick, wet sheets. Splattering onto the already torn forest floor beneath him.

My body stopped working.

I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t blink.

Time seemed to freeze.

I had never seen that much blood come out of someone.

No

No, no, no, no!! Not Draegon. Not my husband.

I heard someone scream. A voice raw and hoarse. A name torn into the air like a curse.

It was mine.

"DRAEGON!"