Chapter 267
Movement in the still air was the first thing that Lucien noticed, and then the screams. Turning his head toward the sudden breeze, he froze for a moment when she saw that the shield Azriel had put up over his entrance had fallen and a dozen of the Illyrians had come through, wicked blades lifted high. He moved then, running for the doorway, throwing up a shield of his own to stop any more getting into the square, and he could feel Azriel and Cassian moving with him, as he drew his sword. The females beat them there, however, and horror rose within Lucien as several of them were cut down before they had even had the chance to try and fight.
Lucien's eyes focused on the closest Illyrian, watching as that horrible blade was lifted again, ready to come down on a young female, and Lucien threw himself between them, lifting his own sword to catch that blade and deflect it. He heard the female shriek and, out of the corner of his eye, he saw her retreat a little, but then he was caught up in the fight, trying desperately to keep from losing his head. He hated fighting Illyrians. Lucien had decided that pretty early on in his life, and everything he'd had to do today had only reinforced that decision. Growing up, Lucien had been used to fighting and practising against others who had had similar training. There had been rules and style, and even his brothers had followed them. The Illyrians didn't. Lucien couldn't pick a style out of anything they did, and it felt to him like a brutal onslaught of savagery. Every movement felt random, and he felt like he was constantly on the defence, trying to avoid being injured and without a moment to launch an attack of his own.
By the time he'd bested the first opponent, the second was on him without a second to spare, and he found it difficult to keep up with what was going on around him. Unable to focus on anything else, Lucien became a series of fluid movements, blocking and avoiding back and forth over and over. When the Illyrian before him fell, Lucien took a moment to listen as he stepped over the body. The sounds of fighting echoed all around the square and he could see the chaos of battle spread across the whole space. Moving as quickly as he was able, Lucien managed to cut down the next Illyrian without getting caught up in the fight, and he went for the one behind him as swiftly as he was able.
Fear rushed into Lucien down the bond, and he ducked a swipe from the Illyrian he was currently fighting, spinning glance back across the square to look for Elain. He didn't see her, and didn't have the time to keep looking because he had been suddenly charged and tackled, and he found himself sprawled across the ground, grunting as a heavy weight landed atop him. Kicking himself free, Lucien pushed himself to his knees, trying to get enough height and space to be able to swing his sword effectively. Receiving an elbow to the ribs instead, Lucien grunted and fell to the side, willing himself to get up again as he clenched his teeth. Panic hit him then, and he knew that it came from his mate. He snarled, and wrenched himself free from the grip of the Illyrian still trying to pin him down.
Managing to get himself free, Lucien rolled to his feet, staggering away. He didn't care that he hadn't beaten the Illyrian, he needed to get up and find Elain. There was screaming all around him, and chaos moving everywhere he looked. There was blood and gore, and more than a few bodies on the ground, tripping and slipping him up. He walked right over the dead, his eyes sweeping the area he had last seen his mate. "ELAIN?" he called, panicking a little when he wasn't immediately able to spot her. "ELAIN?" he skid to a halt, right where she had been standing not ten minutes earlier. She was not here now. "Elain…?" Turning, he tried to look for her among the scattered fighting. There were groups huddled by the walls, trying to stay out of the way, and there was Cassian, Azriel, and Feyre taking on several of those who had come through the fallen shield. More than a handful of the Illyrian females they had trained were also trying their best against several of the Illyrians.
Lucien took several steps across the square when he spotted Nesta. His mate's elder sister stood in front of a group cowering by the wall. She held an Illyrian blade in her hand, her eyes tracking everything that moved nearby. Lucien could tell that she was ready to destroy anything that came at her and those she stood defending. He stopped moving when he noticed that Elain was not one of them.
When pain hit him then, knowing it was Elain's, Lucien swung wildly around, looking for her. If he couldn't see her, he would make sure that he could take stock of the threat. There were six left. Cassian was taking on two, Azriel and Feyre had another two. The handful of Illyrian females still fighting were surrounding one, who didn't appear to be having a great time, but that left one more. Lucien spotted him nearby, bending over a wooden planter box, reaching for something and attempting to drag it out. A slender leg appeared, kicking at the Illyrian, and then Lucien was running. He had time to see Elain thrashing as she was pulled from behind the box, and the Illyrian grabbed hold of her, hauling her up a little, before Lucien threw himself at the male with brutal hands on his mate.
Crashing to the ground, Lucien struck repeatedly at every part of the Illyrian he could reach. He had been so caught up in panic and rage at seeing what was being done to Elain that he hadn't even had time to consider what he was doing. When his brain caught up to him, Lucien pressed his hands to the Illyrian's chest and then reached for the power he had been beginning to understand. The light he had inherited from Helion felt different to the fire he was so familiar with, but he found it easily and with barely a flicker of a thought, he pushed it into the Illyrian. When he had done something similar before, defending his mate against his brothers, Lucien had been somewhat detached, It had been instinctual and he hadn't really remembered what had happened. This was not like that. This was deliberate. He pushed that light with purpose, hot and burning, and when he saw the Illyrian turn to ash before his eyes, Lucien felt relief.
Pushing himself to his knees again, Lucien dusted his hands. Elain's sob caught his attention then and he scrambled toward her, managing to catch himself and pull back, making sure that his hands were gentle when he touched her.
"Petal?" he breathed, fingers skimming her arm. She turned toward him, reaching out, and Lucien felt like he was able to breathe properly for the first time since that shield had gone down when her arms wrapped around his neck and she just about crawled into his lap. "Elain, are you hurt?" he asked.
"I…" she hesitated, and he tried to look her over the best he could while she was pressed firmly against him. "I don't think so…"
"Okay…" he held her there, his eyes sweeping the square again, watching as Azriel struck down the last of their attackers. Satisfied that they were not in immediate danger, at least for the moment, Lucien looked down at his mate once more. He could see that her knees were skinned and bleeding, as were her elbows, and he wondered if she hadn't fallen over the planter box in her panic.
"Are you hurt?" she asked, lifting a hand to his cheek, and he noticed that her wrists and palms were skinned and bloody too.
"I'm fine, Petal." He reached for her down the bond, and her relief felt cool and sweet. He bent to press his lips to her forehead then, and he smiled when her fingers sank into his hair. "Can you stand?" he asked, and he felt her nod. "Good… We're not safe yet."
Pulling Elain up, he helped her over to a nearby bench, his eyes moving from doorway to doorway, watching as the Illyrians outside continued to pound on the shields that were still holding. Their attackers were not going to leave, he realised. Unless someone figured out something they could do from within this square, there would be no getting out of here without a fight, and Lucien knew that they would not win up against so many.