Fantasy Romance
He watched her tend to the wounded, a golden healing spell on her lips as she touched a hand to each of their chests.
Too bright.
Too holy.
He had to turn away.
One shot. One kill.
He could give her that.
He took a step towards her. Then another. And another.
Makayla whispered a prayer to Dracor.
Better to die from an archer’s arrow than fall to a vampire.
Another arrow shot from the woods.
And another.
Each felling a single enemy.
It was the miracle she needed as she carved a path through the remaining thralls and their vampire masters.
Even holy Knights of Valor made mistakes.
Her unit was overwhelmed.
She fought valiantly, but the men around her fell to the onslaught.
As the vampire lord snapped the neck of the man guarding her, his single arrow dipped in holy water pierced the vampire’s heart.
One shot. One kill.
He tracked her, watching her for days.
She destroyed zombies, ghouls, and wendigos.
Necromancers cowered before the light of her holy sword.
The peasants cheered her coming.
Still, he watched. And waited.
Destroyed.
The lich was destroyed.
How was that even possible?
The darkness inside Corvin screamed.
The lich may be gone, but he still wasn’t free.
One shot. One kill.
Corvin checked the tension on his bow again.
One shot. One kill.
The darkness inside him writhed in anticipation.
He ignored it as he slowed his breathing and heartbeat and aimed.