by Zoe Chant
She didn’t wait for a response. She was already running, out the door, past the startled Imperial honor guard waiting outside. She ran, through winds that were already starting to pick up, under clouds that were thickening and darkening every second.
And she could only pray that she wasn’t already too late.
Chapter 30
He awoke with cold chains around his wrists.
It was so familiar that for a moment his mind rebelled, reflexively trying to break free from the vision. But there was no waking up. Not this time.
This wasn’t a vision. This was real. It was finally happening, now.
Oh, sea. He’d been hoping to have the strength to meet his fate with a cocky grin and a witty quip. Now, he was just grateful for all those trips to the toilet. At least he would go out with dry pants.
He opened his eyes a crack, trying not to let on that he was conscious again. He was lying on his side, dry leaf litter against his cheek. Chains bound his arms and legs, uncomfortably tight. There seemed to be an argument going on above his head.
“I don’t like this, Lupa.” Joe recognized the deep voice of the wendigo shifter, Mort. “He walked straight into our hands. This has to be some kind of trap.”
“He’s bound and drugged. Wulfric injected him with enough basilisk venom to keep him from shifting for days.” Joe felt Lupa’s small foot nudge him in the ribs. He stayed limp, playing dead. “What could he possibly do to hurt me?”
“I don’t know, and I don’t want to find out.” Mort blew out his breath. “Look, Lupa. I know you’re only doing this for me, but I don’t want any more innocent lives on my conscience. I’m begging you. Let him go.”
“No,” Lupa said flatly. “Go and help the rest of the pack. Keep the Thunderbird from interfering.”
“Little one—”
“I said no!” Lupa’s voice rose sharply. “I’m not losing you! Now go!”
Joe heard Mort stagger back, as though Lupa’s power had physically shoved him. The wendigo hesitated, then let out another long sigh. Human footsteps turned into the crunch of giant paws, heading away.
Lupa kicked him in the ribs again, harder. “I know you’re awake. Stop playing dead and get up.”
Dying on his feet seemed more dignified than dying flat on his back. He sat up, wincing as the drug made the clearing spin around his head. He reached for his dragon, but it was still unconscious. He felt cold, naked without his animal. The mate bond was the only spark of warmth remaining in the vast, silent sea of his soul.
Lupa dragged him upright by his chains. He started to topple over again the moment she let go of him. Lupa made an impatient, annoyed sound, and propped him up against a tree.
“If this is a trick, it’s not going to work,” she informed him.
“No trick,” he croaked out. “But you don’t want to do this.”
She folded her arms, glaring at him. “And why is that?”
“I don’t know. I just know that you don’t.”
“You know nothing about me.”
“I know that your name is Lupa.” He jerked his chin in the direction the wendigo had vanished. “I know his name is Mort, and that you love each other like family. I know that you’d do anything to protect him. That’s why you plan to sacrifice me instead of him to…” He struggled to remember the name she’d called in his vision, the name she’d used to summon the demon. “To Unktehi.”
She caught her breath. “How do you know that name?”
“I know a lot of things. What I don’t know is why you’re doing any of this in the first place.” His feet were sliding out from underneath him. He fought to stay upright, to hold her shocked stare. “But I know you don’t really want to. Something’s making you, something bad. You don’t have to do this, Lupa. Whatever you’re facing, my friends and I can help. Please. Let us help you. You’ve made some bad choices, but you can’t be all bad if you can love someone like you clearly love Mort.”
For a moment, he thought he had her. Her topaz eyes were wide, vulnerable. For a moment, she looked very young.
Then her face twisted. She tossed her hair, revealing the horned-serpent mark on her forehead.
“You think love is enough?” she spat. “You think that’s enough to make someone a good person, worthy of redemption, no matter what else they’ve done? You know nothing. Nothing. You can’t help me.” The biting scorn in her voice wavered, just for an instant. “No one can help me.”
With a final toss of her head, she turned away. She knelt down, pressing one hand to the ground.
“Father of Serpents,” she began, just as he’d seen in his dream. “Blood calls to blood. The world turns, the storms fade, and the time of snakes and shadows comes once more.”
He hadn’t really expected to persuade her to trust him. He’d known it would come to this. Still, his guts clenched in fear as the mark on her forehead lit up.
“Rise, horned consort, ever-hungry one,” Lupa went on. “The one who gnaws at the roots of the world. Accept this sacrifice—”
“Unwilling sacrifice!” He twisted his wrists together, futilely straining against his chains. “Very, very unwilling!”
“Be quiet,” Lupa snapped over her shoulder. “Accept this sacrifice—”
He raised his hand—well, both hands, since they were chained together. “Sorry to interrupt, but can I clarify just how unwilling I am? I know I kinda walked right into your clutches, but I honestly am exceedingly unhappy to be in this position. I just want to make sure that’s noted down. You know, formally. Just in case it matters.”
Lupa stared at him as though he’d started speaking in sea dragon. “This is your big plan? Do you seriously think you can rules-lawyer your way out of a demonic ritual?”
He raised his eyebrows at her hopefully. “Can I?”
“No.”
“Pity. Well, it was worth a try.”
It had been worth a try, but it wasn’t his plan. His plan was very, very simple.
Just keep talking.
Long enough for the Thunderbird to battle its way through the pack and torch the place. Ideally, before the demon rose. Not because he was hoping to get out of this alive—he had no illusions about that. He’d never seen anything in his future past this day.
It was just that he had a suspicion it was going to be a whole lot harder to delay the demon once it was actually inside his body. The longer he could distract Lupa, the better.
He let the words flow, free-associating madly. “I mean, I did kind of get the impression that your giant snake-demon friend isn’t real big on consent, but I’d still like it to be crystal-clear that I could not possibly be any more unwilling. You know, just for posterity. I’d hate for my gravestone to read Here Lies Joe, He Was Dumb Enough To Feed Himself To A Demon, Good Riddance. I’d die of embarrassment.”
Lupa rolled her eyes. “Fine. Accept this unwilling and exceedingly annoying sacrifice. His heart awaits you—”
“It really, really doesn’t. One hundred percent already taken, this heart. And I’m sorry to say that she’s a lot prettier than Mr. Unktehi. But I’m sure there’s someone somewhere who is just pining to give their heart to a giant horned snake. Has he tried online dating?”
“Do you ever shut up?” Lupa snarled at him.
“I’m not known for it, no. I mean, if it was a quiet and dignified demon-raising ceremony you were after, you should have abducted Callum to be your sacrifice.” He kept one eye on the sky as he babbled. Was that a darker shape, amidst the swirling smoke? “Now there’s a man of few words. Which is kind of weird, actually, because his dad and brothers are even more talkative than I am.”
“The mind boggles,” Lupa muttered. “Are you going to make me come over there and gag you?”
“Probably. Sorry. Well, not sorry. I mean, you are trying to feed me to a giant snake-demon. You can’t really blame me for not being hugely cooperative.”
Lupa started to stalk toward him, and then checked herself. Her head tu
rned, nostrils flaring. His heart gave a great bound—but she was staring into the trees, not the sky.
A pair of men came into view, forcing their way through the tangled undergrowth. They were dragging a struggling form between them. Someone smaller, pale-skinned, with ash-grey hair…
He’d thought he was scared before. It was nothing compared to the utter terror that gripped him now.
“We caught her on the edge of the sacred grounds,” one of the men said. The other one, a massive, black-bearded man, was having to use all his strength to restrain Seven. “The Thunderbird dropped her. She nearly snuck by while we were chasing it away.”
The bearded man suddenly swore, yanking his hand away. “She bit me! The ugly bitch bit me!”
“We’re out of darts,” the first man said to Lupa. “Do you have any left?”
Lupa pulled an odd, snub-nosed pistol out of the pocket of her jacket. It had a gas chamber at the back, and a long, fletched dart loaded into the barrel. Sickly neon-green liquid shimmered inside the dart’s chamber. Seven twisted even harder.
Lupa tapped the tranquillizer pistol thoughtfully against her palm, looking Seven up and down. Her lips pursed.
“No,” Lupa decided. She holstered the gun again. “It’s the last one, and it will be a while before I can harvest more serum. We need to save this in case any of the other, more dangerous shifters show up again. This one is just a shark. She’s no threat to us.”
“Beg to disagree,” muttered the bearded man, sucking at his bleeding wound.
“Just hold her so she can’t cause trouble.” Lupa glanced at Joe, one eyebrow lifting. “Was this your master plan? Distract me so your pet assassin, or whatever she is, could sneak in and stab me in the back?”
“No.” He could barely get the words out through the terror clogging his mouth. “She isn’t supposed to be here.”
Lupa’s mouth twisted in a sneer. “Oh. Now I see. True mates.” She shot him a last, searing glance before kneeling down again. “I told you love wasn’t enough.”
“I’ll be willing, I’ll welcome your demon with open arms, I’ll do anything you want!” He tried to stumble toward Seven, but the world lurched sideways under his feet. He crashed to his knees, barely avoiding falling flat on his face. “Just let her go. Please!”
“No!” Seven flung herself against her captors’ hands, straining to reach him. “Let him go! Take me! Sacrifice me instead!”
“You?” Lupa cast her a scornful look. “What would the king want with you?”
Seven’s frantic eyes met his as Lupa started to chant again. He could feel her fear down the mate bond—not for herself, but for him.
*I’m sorry,* her voice whispered in his heart. *I thought I could save you. I thought I was strong enough. I’m so, so sorry. I failed you.*
Lupa’s voice rose in a triumphant scream. “On your queen’s behalf I call you by name: Unktehi, crowned serpent, mighty consort! It is time. The way is open. Rise!”
Just like in his dream, the earth split apart. The demonic serpent rose, blotting out the sky. The two men holding Seven screamed and fled. She lunged for him the instant they let go of her, but it was far too late.
“Seven, no,” he begged, as her hands closed on his shoulders. He was far too big for her to carry, the demon far too close— “You have to leave me, save yourself! Seven!”
Somewhere in the darkness behind the demon, Lupa’s shrill laughter rose, cold and triumphant. Death rose above them, horned and hell-eyed, a heartbeat away.
Seven’s grey eyes looked into his, alight with love.
One last time.
“Seven!” he screamed, as she stepped in front of him. “Run!”
She ignored him. She faced the towering monster head-on, unarmored, unarmed. Unflinching.
She spread her arms.
And this was the point where the vision always turned to nightmare. He’d seen her die, over and over, a hundred different ways—quickly, slowly, bitten or burned or just flung aside like a piece of trash.
She knew what he’d seen. She knew she was going to die.
But still she stepped forward. Because she had nothing left to protect him with but her own body.
She couldn’t even shift.
She couldn’t even shift.
His dragon was still unconscious, useless. But there was more in the depths of his soul than just his animal.
He reached within, to the part of himself that he’d denied for so long. To the walls that he’d built to keep it locked away, locked out.
And he brought them all down.
Chapter 31
One moment, she was standing on dry ground, looking death in its burning red eyes.
The next, she was in the sea.
A great wave washed over her so powerfully, she staggered. Salt burned in her eyes. She instinctively held her breath, feeling the cool all-enveloping touch of the water. Her whole body was buoyed up, lifting, suddenly weightless. Her braids floated free.
The huge horned serpent had been gathering itself to strike, but now it hesitated. Its shadowy head cocked to one side. The taste of its sudden confusion and suspicion washed over her tongue.
“What magic is this?” Lupa demanded, through the roar of the waves.
How is she speaking? Seven wondered. Why hasn’t she been washed away?
Yet the hellhound alpha was still standing there, just beyond the serpent. The sea that enveloped Seven didn’t seem to touch either one of them. The ground was still bone-dry. Not a blade of grass stirred, despite the fact that currents tugged so hard at her own body that she could barely stay on her feet.
The sea wasn’t around her.
It was in her.
Heart of the Sea, Joe had said.
He was the Crown Prince of Atlantis, the Emperor-in-Waiting. He was the Heart of the Sea.
And he’d given her his heart, just as she’d given him hers.
Now all his power roared through her soul. He’d opened the floodgates, holding nothing back. His love, his trust, his strength, his utter confidence in her strength, it all poured into her.
Black sparks danced in front of her eyes. She was growing light-headed from lack of oxygen.
But she could breathe underwater.
Her shark surged up. For once, she reached for it, embracing it, this sleek, deadly, beautiful part of her soul. Her clothing shredded, falling away. She was a creature of muscle and teeth, perfectly honed for a single purpose.
To hunt.
With a flick of her fins, she soared into the air. No—she swam, through a sea that was tangible only to herself. The serpent snapped uselessly at her. She evaded it without thought, as easily as breathing, and tore a great gaping bite out of its smoky hide.
The demon screamed, in a voice made from nightmares. It lashed out at her again, but it was big and clumsy and slow. It was no more adapted for dry land than she was. It batted at her like a sloth trying to swat a hummingbird, and with about as much success.
Again and again, she darted in. The creature’s armor was strong, but a Great White had a bite strength that would shame a Tyrannosaurus Rex. Her teeth tore through the shadowy scales as if they were paper. Burning blood ran like lava down its writhing flanks.
“Seven!” Joe’s shout cut through her joyous frenzy. He was trying to get to his feet, but he was still weak from the drug. “Look out!”
At the edge of the clearing, Lupa stood in a perfect marksman’s stance. The barrel of her tranquillizer pistol tracked Seven through the air with utter precision.
Seven flung herself into a desperate series of twists, spinning through the air like a dolphin. The horned serpent took advantage of her distraction, lunging to intercept her. Its enormous fangs almost grazed her tail. Only a deft roll that left her spine aching saved her.
She couldn’t keep this up for long. Either Lupa or the serpent, she could handle, but both together…
She could taste the serpent’s sudden gloating triumph. She sensed Lupa’
s churning emotions focusing, narrowing, coming to a decision as sharp as a knife.
Lupa’s finger tightened on the trigger.
Seven reflexively tried to evade…but it was pointless. The dart disappeared harmlessly into the dark, missing her by a mile.
The serpent roared in fury. It turned on Lupa, its eyes alight with vicious, vindictive rage. For a moment, it forgot Seven entirely.
She dove, sinking her teeth deep into its unguarded throat. She hung on, locking her jaws, as the serpent screamed and thrashed. Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed a white blur, streaking out of the forest. Lupa leaped onto the wendigo’s back, and the pair vanished into the sky.
“Seven! Seven!” Joe was waving his arms. He pointed up, urgently.
For a moment, she thought he wanted her to chase after the fleeing Lupa…but then her snout prickled. With a sense that humans lacked, she could detect the electromagnetic fields around changing, swirling like the storm clouds gathering above. She could feel the ominous, gathering power.
She released her prey, swooping down toward Joe. He leaped, grabbing hold of her dorsal fin, locking his legs around her body. She soared back into the sky, carrying him.
Just in time.
Pure white light knocked her head-over-tail like a hammer blow from an angry god. The dying serpent vanished utterly, its darkness ripped apart by incandescent power. Every tree around the clearing went up like a firework.
Scorching heat licked against her belly. She spiraled higher, away from the devastation, carrying her mate to safety.
Behind them, the Thunderbird hammered lightning bolt after lightning bolt into the corrupted ground, until there was nothing left but fire.
Chapter 32
As he rode a giant flying shark through the sky with fire and lightning exploding in their wake, Joe had only one thought.
This really needs a soundtrack.
One of Seven’s small, dark eyes rolled to peer up at him.
*Joe,* her voice said in his mind. *Are you trying to sing Ride of the Valkyries?*
