The Rogue s Harem Book 2 Chapter 8 Deadly Shadows
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The Rogue's Harem Book 2: Rogue's Wicked HaremChapter 23: Deadly Shadows free porn video
Note: Thanks to B0b and WRC 264 for beta reading this!
Aingeal
The spirits surged through Kora. I could feel them working to heal her wound. Her convulsions slowed. The froth stopped bubbling from her lips. Her eyes closed. She let out a soft exhale. Her blood no long pumped out of her, staining my hand.
“That’s it,” I said as the spirits danced in and out of her body. “They’re fixing you. Okay?”
Kora let out a soft groan.
I nodded my head, my back muscles twitching. “You’re doing great. It’ll be fine.”
“Aingeal...” muttered Kora, her eyes moving beneath her closed lids.
“Yes, yes, you’re almost fixed.” She could feel the spirits of enhancement scouring through her body. The final trembles faded from her body. “There. Just take a moment, Kora. You’re going to be fine.”
Kora didn’t answer. But her chest rose and fell with regular breathing. The spirits zoomed out of her body in streaks of green. I sank back, my rump resting on the heels of my feet. I looked around, gasped at the sight of Sven and Ealaín battling a figure of shadows. Lances shot and stabbed and thrust at the two warriors, keeping them at bay.
I gasped at what I saw dancing in the shadows. “A witch?”
Sven Falk
“Las’s putrid cum!” I snarled, holding my right hand behind me, using my arm as a counterbalance as I parried with my short sword. I backed off of the shadowy form, the spears of darkness seeking my flesh.
The form made no sound. No grunts or growls. No curses or taunts. Just deadly silence. The flowing darkness just tried to kill us. How could I close the distance? It had such great reach. My blade was so short compared to the knifing spears it made. They were twice the length of my arm.
“How do we stop shadowmancing?” I shouted at Ealaín.
“There is a way,” Ealaín said.
“What is it?” Ignoring the throbbing pain of my broken finger, I pulled a throwing dagger from my bandoleer. I sucked in a breath as I gripped it awkwardly.
I flicked my wrist. I winced at the clumsy toss. My throwing dagger tumbled through the air. The shadows flowed out of its path. Ealaín, standing on the other side, swung her war hammer and deflected the weapon before it struck her body.
Then she charged in and swung her ax in great, scything arcs, cutting at the shadows. She severed through inky tendrils. They melted into mist before her. The form merely flowed back from her and kept thrusting. When it passed over shadows on the ground, they rippled and writhed, drawing into the growing mass.
Feeding whatever it lost.
“Ealaín, what is the way?” I shouted and thrust at the figure.
A lance shot out at my head. I ducked it, going into a crouch and plunging my sword upward at the figure. Part of the shadows hardened into a shield. My sword struck it. The tip embedded into it like I hit wood. My blade quivered. I ripped it free and tumbled back as stabbing spears sought my flesh.
“Ealaín! How?”
“Not yet!” she bellowed, war hammer and ax swinging before her, double arcs that swept aside attacks from reaching her.
I drew another throwing dagger in an agonized grip. Ealaín had a way to beat this attacker. If she wouldn’t speak it, it meant she didn’t want to tip off the attacker. I needed to aid her. I had to watch her and follow her lead.
She closed on the figure. It flowed back. I had to give her an opening to land her attack. This might be it. I gripped the dagger tight, ignoring the grinding pain in my broken finger. I concentrated, sweat breaking out across my face.
I threw it as hard as I could.
It tumbled end over end. The figure noticed it. The shadows stopped flowing, letting the dagger flash before it instead of retreating into its path. It was a brief halt to his movement, only a heartbeat of distraction, but it was enough for Ealaín to close the distance.
I charged in after my dagger. We could pen it in. Cut it down. The shadow rippled as Ealaín bellowed. She sounded like a fierce warrior, a charging bull bringing death sweeping down at the figure.
A thick spear, wider than my arm, thrust from the center of the mass of shadows. The surface rippled and ran towards the extending attack lunging right at Ealaín. Her war hammer swept around, blurring silver, and slammed into the new attack.
Rebounded.
“No!” she gasped.
Ealaín
The thick lance of darkness struck my breastplate where it covered my stomach. My armor rang like a gong. Metal crumpled. The air exploded from my lungs as I stumbled back. The world blurred around me. I hit the ground.
I coughed, gasped. Waves of agony washed out of my stomach. My eyes fluttered. My hands flexed over nothing. What happened? I tried to suck in a breath, my lungs expanded. Something crushed my chest and stomach, squeezing so tight I could only inhale a fraction of what I needed. Stars danced across my vision. Darkness fuzzed at the edges. My head swam.
Sven cursed.
I struggled to lift my head and peer down my body at...
“Oh ... no...” I wheezed.
The blow had concaved my armor. The dented metal pressed on my stomach, on my solar plexus. It squeezed about my breasts and put pressure on my ribs. They creaked as I sucked in another short inhalation. Dizziness washed over me. My hands clenched on nothing. I had to get the armor off.
I fought against the waves of sluggish thought that swept through me. I needed to breathe. My mind screamed for it. My lungs burned to be filled. I sucked in another breath through my nostrils and...
Agony crushed my torso.
“Rithi’s ... per ... fect ... art...”
My fingers found the straps of my breast plate. The leather had pulled taut, stretched by the distortions to my armor. I fumbled at it, struggling to gain any slack so I could unbuckle them. I whimpered, pulling at the leather with all my—
Bess
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