Liora’s POV

  Liora rode on Thunderroar up to Durnakh’s troops. She found the commander at their head. Grandler trailer slowly behind her. She looked back at the trailing hobgoblin wraith.

  “Hurry or you’ll be left behind.”

  “Yes, mistress.” Grandler responded.

  “Durnakh.” Liora said as they approached the newest commander.

  “Ah, Liora, how are you this fine night?” Durnakh smiled, showing his sharp jagged teeth.

  Liora was unsure if the hobgoblin was trying to be intimidating or charming, but he was neither, to her at least. She looked him up and down. He was taller than the hobgoblins she had seen in Thorpe, but still shorter than Rikkard. If goblins worshipped strength, she had little doubt Durnakh had it, but he seemed to have little charm, or at least little charm for an elven wraith.

  “This is Grandler, my apprentice and ward.” Liora waved Grandler forward.

  Slowly Grandler drifted forward and barely looked at Durnakh.

  “Gloomy fellow?” Durnakh said. “And why do I get the pleasure of this introduction?”

  Paul wants the troops to get used to fighting along side the undead.” Liora said. “It would be best if they don’t lose their nerve if they see our own undead on the field of battle and flee.”

  “Goblins are skittish.” Durnakh said looking back at his men. “But worry not, mine are trained by myself personally.”

  “Me personally.” Grandler corrected, tone faintly superior.

  Durnakh blinked, then barked a laugh, “You did what?”

  “It’s not myself personally, it’s me personally.” Grandler’s eyes began to glow softly with a dark violet flame.

  “You have nothing to do with my men.” Durnakh snorted, “Or their training.”

  “No, what you said was wrong.”

  “No, I trained my men.” Durnakh took a step forward, “I trained them before Paul ever came into the Deepwood to conquer it. It’s why they so easily follow me now, even after the old chief died.”

  “You’re not talking about the same thing.” Liora put a hand on her forehead. “You boys enjoy each other.” She said as she turned Thunderroar around and left. “Oh, and don’t kill each other, kill the enemy.”

  Liora made her way with Thunderroar to the left of the column, the army was getting into formation. Scouts were somewhat confident the Feralean’s little army didn’t have any ghost powder. Her dark violet eyes scanned the enemy.

  The Feralean’s troops looked like a rag tag gathering of the worst kind of slob the wolf creature could manage to scrape together. The pickings for new wraiths looked slim. For a moment Liora wondered if she should try for the Feralean itself, but then second guessed it.

  The creature may be strong, but it clearly wasn’t intelligent, and a wild wraith with little discipline was the last thing she wanted. Hopefully training a few of the goblin rabble would work fine. As far as she knew, not many goblin wraiths had been made, but on the other hand, how would she know.

  Liora had only been a wraith herself for about four years now, two years before Paul was made a vampire. Her inability to leave her bond mate’s side for too long and not being able to consistently touch solid matter made her a poor choice for Alaric’s needs. Instead of throwing her back into the Elven afterlife where he had pulled her from, he decided to keep her for her mystical knowledge and bond her to his later progeny, Paul.

  Paul had proven to be kinder to her than Alaric ever had, but he also seemed to have more respect for the undead state than their old sire had. Alaric thought of himself and his own needs only. Paul still felt something for the old warlord, but Liora held no illusions to the fool. They were better off without him; they wouldn’t have gotten as far as they had with that brute at the helm.

  Her new bond mate seemed to understand what drove the living. In life he hadn’t much military experience, true, but he knew some of politics and a lot of magic. Paul was a quick study, their string of victories were proof of it.

  Alaric would never have commanded the loyalty of the goblins and hobgoblins. He might have attacked the human kingdoms first and got them all erased or sealed away quickly, like he had himself, in his cursed tomb.

  Yelling from the opposing line broke her thoughts.

  “Let’s go and circle around them.” Liora told Thunderroar.

  “Yes, Mistress.” The giant worg responded.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  It seemed the goblin line realized they were severely outnumbered and, based on their yelling, were ready to break ranks. The Feralean came to the front and started barking at them. His voice was a mix of yips, growls and a proto bark.

  She couldn’t make out all the words, but Liora knew she was a her, and she was threatening the goblins. The Feralean’s voice was decidedly feminine. The tethered bond between her and Paul allowed her to use his self-translating spell, apparently even though he used a ring now. She could feel the translation coming through the bond. For a moment she was fascinated at the feel of the magic and the circle of how it was flowing and working through him for her.

  Once she and Thunderroar made their way behind the goblin lines, she could hear the bellow horn signaling the archers to start firing at the enemy. Two quick blows, followed by a long blast. One more long blast would tell them to stop so the undead didn’t get hit when they got close.

  The wraiths, however, didn’t need to worry about the arrows. They would harmlessly fly through them. As the horns faded, Liora ushered Thunderroar forward.

  “Draw on your death tether.” She instructed. “Use it in conjunction with your form, sap their life force from them. Focus on the Life Seed rune. It will allow you to take their life for yourself.”

  She could feel Thunderroar draw from the source, as she could with all her bond mates and childer. It was quite a sensation, especially when feeling others draw from sources she wasn’t connected to.

  The Feralean ducked under flying arrows as they hit her “soldiers”. Liora tried to ignore the beast, but her eyes were drawn to the creature. She stood at about 6 foot 6 inches with silver fur. Her limbs were long and muscular, and she had claws that reminded Liora of small daggers. The wolf woman had bright silver eyes that seemed to glow in the moonlight.

  “Go for the rearguard.” Liora instructed.

  Thunderroar ran faster than Liora could possibly hope to glide on her own. She hadn’t ridden since her time alive in the Trien Forest, Nainia, her maidens’ Unicorn. Nainai could run as fast as the wind through Trien. Liora looked down on the giant wolf she rode now and saw only dark nearly black translucent fur, not pure white magical grace.

  A loud roar escaped Thunderroar’s chest as he raised his head and started to sap souls from the goblins. The back ranks started to scream and panic. The Feralean turned and, with a look at what Liora assumed was horror, growled and tried to get through her people to the wraiths.

  Liora jumped from Thunderroar’s back and found her first wraith to be. A tall, yellow goblin, with dark brown fur. Liora called on her death tether and put a fist through the goblin’s chest and sapped her soul. The goblin made a vain attempt at grabbing Liora’s arm to pull it out.

  “Die!” A feminine voice cried out beside her.

  Liora looked to her left and saw a female goblin that looked almost exactly like this one, but a few inches shorter. With a grin of finality, the wraith drained the first goblin and thrust a hand into the second.

  “Your bravery has made you immortal.” Liora said, “I gift you this.” She whispered as the female goblin shook in fear.

  As the female dies Liora looked up to see the entire field in chaos. Arrows had stopped and undead were running forward to meet with the living enemy. She could see some goblins flanking the undead, preventing the enemy from getting behind the line.

  A small pull from Paul’s shadow tether made her look in his direction. She could feel the familiar feeling of him mixing it with earth, and a few moments later, shadowy wisps began to run from the eye sockets of the zombies and skeletons, a tail tell mark they had been enhanced.

  Durnakh’s men were coming from the other side preventing retreat. Grandler pulled on his death tether, and she could feel him sapping life from the enemies around him.

  Before more goblins could retreat or run, the wraith was determined to make more of her kind. Raising the ranks undead to a sturdy amount. They would need them for the battles to come.

  A small, but quick, goblin made to run past her, but she caught him. His life quickly seeped into her. For a moment she relished in her undeath. She felt powerful, so full of life. A laugh wanted to escape her throat, but she settled for a smile and light giggle.

  Three. Now she just needed at least one or two more. That would be good. The intoxicating nature of the soul steal and creation threatened to overtake her. If she could breathe, Liora would have needed to take a breath.

  Then she saw her next target, a goblin almost 4 feet tall with reddish skin and brown fur. He had to have hobgoblin ancestors, probably recently. He was bulky and huge, for a goblin, and wielded a hammer. Liora ran through others and as the large goblin made an attempt to push forwards to meet the oncoming valgul, Liora reached a hand through his side.

  The goblin’s essence was strong. She could feel his core. A light trickle of earth mana permeated his body. If he had been captured alive, one day he may have been a shaman or healer, probably against his will. A brute this big would want to use his size to intimidate his lesser, not pursue the mystical arts. Liora was doing him a favor.

  As the brute fell, Liora looked around for her next target. She could taste the earth tether and for a moment wasn’t sure if it was brute or Paul. She shook her head trying to calm down.

  More…

  One more…

  Liora looked around and then she saw her, the Feralean. Yes, Liora let out a small laugh. The goblins around her screamed and fled in every direction just to get away from her.

  The Feralean saw her aw well and charged the wraith. Yes, this bitch was just like Alaric. She would die like him too.

  Liora swung her hand at the wolf woman, who dodged slightly and swung her own sword at Liora. The Feralean’s sword passed through Liora without doing any harm.

  “Charge the enemy cowards!” She howled.

  “All you want is death!” Liora roared back as she made every attempt to steal the bitch’s soul.

  She could see black hair and red capes. Fine clothes and sadistic laughing. A world of death and destruction. The ruin of all that was natural and perfect.

  Liora drew on as much death mana as she could harness. Intent on blasting this beast to remnants of the dark places of the afterlife. There would be nothing left of her soul. She deserved no mercy. She only wanted death.

  A massive discharge of air and death in front of her wrapped itself around the Feralean’s neck like a whip. With immense power the creature was lifted into the air and thrown away from Liora. The Feralean crashed in front of the zombie line.

  “Tie her up.” Paul ordered loudly.

  “No!” Liora screamed. “Kill her!”

  Within moments Paul was in from of Liora. “Be calm, Liora.” He said softly.

  Rage built in her like none she had felt since coming to the forest. “Alaric….”

  “Alaric is gone.” Paul couldn’t touch her, not really, but he brought a hand up to her face, nonetheless. “Be calm, you’ll kill everyone.”

  Liora looked at his hand, then his face, she no longer saw Alaric, but Paul. Yes, Paul. A new bond mate, a different bond mate. Maybe not nature in its truest form, but a new nature. Death wouldn’t consume the world but be preserved forever in its stillness.

  A smile crept onto Liora’s face, “I only got four.”