Ryze Series: Books 1 & 2

by N. Isabelle Blanco

  Evesse laughs, earning another scowl from me. It’s moments like these that I feel transparent. Straight-up gossamer. It’s like Eve can see every hidden fantasy inside me and the god that they revolve around, even though she doesn’t know anything about my secrets.

  I’ve seen Dyletri’s image since I was a child, almost going back as far as I can remember. Back then—when Nylicia, Watcher of Destinies, first came to me in my dreams—I developed an odd fascination with the being who long ago sealed my fate.

  Obviously, that fascination morphed into something different once I became a woman. ‘Cause I’m oh so smart.

  He’s the one my fantasies focus on whenever I use my vibe, much to my shame and embarrassment. It isn’t as if I can control it, though. The man is delicious in a way only a real god can be, and he haunts me despite my attempts to forget him.

  Having orgasms while thinking about the man who’s not only supposed to kill you, but who is doing it to resurrect the love of his life. Real nice, Iss. Real nice.

  “I swear, you’re happier about me having that vibe than I am.”

  “You’re such a liar.” Eve flips me off, then turns to head back towards the cash register.

  I return the gesture and throw a little kiss to the brunette’s back as she walks away. Soleria laughs and waves goodbye.

  After walking through the door, I pause right outside, knowing this will be the last time I see them. And I can’t even tell them that. Dyletri will be coming for me tonight and he’s going to freaking sacrifice me.

  I want to run.

  I want to fight.

  I want to kill him for damning me to this before I was even born.

  But he’s a god. How could a mere human like me ever beat him? There’s no where I could go, no where I could hide, that he wouldn’t find me. Nylicia warned me of that.

  Evesse and Soleria will never know that I died. Or how it happened. They’ll worry and probably call the FBI to try and find me.

  My breath hitches for a brief second at the thought. I fight the urge to run back in and hug them both. Thank them for being two of the few people who ever really cared about me. They’ve done so much for me.

  Don’t think about it. Just act like everything’s normal. Let it go.

  I try. Hard. Try to remind myself that, thanks to Nylicia, I know what my future entails. Or more accurately, that I won’t have one. I’ll just walk down the street and pretend that I’m not heading home to wait for a god who will lead me to my death.

  I hate him.

  I want him.

  My life will end soon after I lay eyes on him.

  I can’t wait to finally see him in person.

  God, I’m such a fucking moron.

  Fear threatens to overwhelm my thoughts, but I’m determined to ignore it. I cross the street, fighting the tremors that want to break forth. A shiver slides along my back, making me stop.

  What the hell?

  I peek over my shoulder, and my eyes widen. Two tall men are coming towards me, and one has . . . blue skin?

  And the other one has leathery beige skin.

  What the fuck?

  I look from side to side, but no one else is around. No way to tell if I’m the only one seeing those things or not. One more look at what’s coming my way is all it takes. Every instinct in my body screams at me to flee.

  One breath later, I take off, running as fast as I can in the opposite direction. Away from my apartment building.

  I have no idea what they are, but even as I fly down the street, I know their presence is no coincidence. The fact that this is the day I’ve been waiting for—and dreading—for years, is just too convenient.

  I wonder where the hell Dyletri is. Nobody said shit about monsters coming for me.

  “If I told you this was waiting for you on the other side . . . would you follow me through?”

  Mm-hmm. Yeah. Smart. Follow her through. Yes, follow Nylicia into the dark portal leading into the dream world all because the goddess had dangled the sexiest thing I’d ever seen in front of me. Wonderful idea.

  Look what I fucking got for it!

  If I told you this was waiting . . .

  The words flash through my head again, a taunting echo.

  No, Ismini, I tell myself. Don’t think back on it. Just keep running!

  My footsteps pound. Breathing becomes more difficult. A sharp turn almost sends me skidding straight into the asphalt. I crash into the side of the building and push away. Thankful my ribs aren’t cramping yet, I pump my legs harder and try to keep the panic down.

  “I'm sorry, Ismini. But the time is upon you. He draws near,” Nylicia told me last night in my dreams, her voice carrying like the faintest of winds. Was this what Nylicia meant?

  Because the two weird motherfuckers who are after me look nothing like Dyletri. The few times I’ve seen him in my dreams, I thought him beyond sexy. Unreal.

  The things behind me are rotten! They aren’t like anything I’ve ever seen in my dreams before.

  The thought of taking them on crosses my mind. I’ve been taking kickboxing lessons long enough.

  Wishful thinking. There are two of them and they’re huge. Not to mention fuck-ugly and unnatural. Something deep down tells me I’ll never win against them, and damn it, I’m listening.

  I cut through an alley and run headlong into another. What the fuck is going on? My whole life I’ve been groomed by Nylicia, visited in my dreams, prepared to wait for Dyletri to come and get me so I can be sacrificed.

  So why, on the day he’s supposed to come, are those things coming for me, too?

  I have to die in order to prevent the Fates from going rabid on the Universe. I know this. I’m not happy about it, but I’ve accepted it.

  But really, is it necessary to throw the two puke-inducing things behind me into the mix?

  More of Nylicia’s words come to mind.

  “Remember one thing. Life tends to throw at you the most painful of lessons in order to forge your soul and prepare you for your destiny.”

  Yeah, well, screw life lessons. This is just unfair. While I run until I’m out of breath, those two things seem to be merely walking.

  They can no doubt catch me if they wished, but they’re taking their time stalking me.

  Taunting me.

  Fucking with my head before delivering the inevitable blow.

  But why?

  Come on, Destiny. Give a girl a break!

  With my ribs starting to cramp, I know it won’t be long before running becomes unbearable. I reconsider stopping to fight. Should I continue running and put myself at a further disadvantage? Or should I just stop and show them they’ve fucked with the wrong girl?

  Sure, I’m confident in my self-defense abilities and have a few years of sparring under my belt, but can I really hold my own against two whatever-the-fuck-they-ares? Maybe if I wasn’t about to double over. But right now?

  Probably not.

  “Ismini! Stop!”

  That voice.

  My heart lurches in my already heaving chest at the sound. For all I know, that voice belongs to one of things following me, but something inside me tells me otherwise. Every instinct suddenly screeches, urging me to stop.

  My fear of the things behind me fades, and I slow to a halt. Eyes wide and searching, I brace myself with one hand against a brick wall. The other clutches at my chest as another roar goes through me, nearly knocking me off my feet.

  “Ismini!”

  That voice. God help me, who is that?

  I can guess. I’m not sure how, but I have a feeling I already know.

  With each painful thump of my heart, I become more certain of who’s approaching me. Someway, somehow, my body recognizes that voice.

  A figure appears right next to me, seeming to poof into existence out of thin air. I gasp in shock, as a large hand lands on my shoulder and I feel a series of short electrical impulses shoot through me. As if a live wire ripped through my hoodie and went straight i
nto my skin.

  I shiver, the sensation spreading along my flesh. The world tilts, my perception bending in on itself, and reality morphs. Pain explodes inside me. Whoever, whatever, is holding me urges me to turn.

  My eyes widen in surprise when they meet the powerful, blue gaze in front of me. My tremors double. Towering over me is Dyletri.

  Dyletri.

  CHAPTER 3

  DYLETRI

  I just arrived outside Ismini’s apartment building when I hear what sounds like rubber tires screeching on cement. I turn instinctively to determine where the sound came from.

  There, across the street. A small figure darts from behind one building and flies across the pavement, rushing for another alleyway. The sound I hear is the soles of her sneakers skidding on the concrete.

  Her dark hair is loose and flows wildly behind her as she runs. To my surprise, the dim light blue, purple, and white aura that flares in chaotic waves around her is one I know well.

  The girl.

  My heart speeds up, and I instantly dematerialize. Reappearing a few feet behind her, I peer at the running figure.

  I can sense no energy signatures close by, not even another human near the alley. All I feel are the humans inside the apartment buildings.

  Why is she running? And where the hell is she going?

  “Ismini! Stop!”

  She does. When I see her clutching her chest, an odd worry hits me.

  I decide to hell with it and dematerialize once more, appearing behind her. “Ismini.” I’m shocked by the changes in her. She was a child the last time I saw her from afar. A chubby, awkward child. But it’s a short, athletic woman standing in front of me right now.

  I grab her shoulder and tense as she gasps. Something warm rushes through me. I barely stop myself from clenching my hand as every muscle seems to jump to attention. Confused, I remind myself that one wrong move on my part can break her.

  She’s fragile to me. So fragile. Her kind can be crushed like soda cans if not handled properly.

  Still, it’s difficult to control my grip, especially when she whimpers.

  I swallow and try like hell to ignore the warmth spreading in my veins.

  Familiar big gray eyes stare up at me from a dainty face I don’t remember. It’s different, gorgeous, but foreign to me. No longer childlike, her face is appealing in a way that surprises me. I focus on the specks of hazel in her eyes, and my heart races harder, the confusion giving way to something else.

  Something dangerous.

  Her eyes lock on mine, fear leaking off her. I see it in her eyes. Smell it in the air around her. The girl’s shaking like a leaf and it makes me frown.

  What frightened her? Did someone try to hurt her?

  I’ll kill them.

  I blink, the thought surprising me even as I begin to question her. “Why were you running, Ismini? What’s wrong?”

  She doesn’t answer but continues to stare up at me with an unblinking, terrified expression.

  Her legs give out, and she starts to slide down the wall. Unable to let go of her shoulder, I follow, kneeling beside her.

  My voice lowers, an almost husky tone. “What’s wrong?”

  Her lips part in response, and the movement sucks the air out of me. Her scent barrels into me, the taste of her fear and . . . something else. Something overwhelming.

  As stunned as I am, there’s no denying the way my blood heats up. My muscles bulge. All of them. For the first time in millennia, a sharp slap of arousal hits me, diving straight into my lower abs.

  “Ismini . . .”

  Control yourself, Dy.

  Almost as if I’ve been removed from my body, I watch my hand leave her shoulder. It rises, not stopping until it’s on her skin. Cupping her face. Energy shoots out of me and into her once more. She feels it. I fucking know she does. Her pupils dilate and she gasps.

  My eyes almost roll into the back of my head.

  That gasp in my ear as I slide my cock inside her for the first time . . .

  Shit. No! What the hell?

  Focus on something else, asshole.

  “Why were you running?” I ask.

  She doesn’t answer.

  I try to make sense of how she’s causing this reaction in me.

  Yeah, she grew up to be mouthwateringly beautiful—I’d have to be fucking blind not to notice—but I’m around goddesses and beautiful females all the time, and none of them make me crave like this.

  I haven’t felt anything even close to desire since I locked my powers away.

  My cock swells, making me shift uncomfortably. Shifting’s bad, however. Any movement serves to bring me closer to Ismini. Her skin is as soft as it looks, the heat of it leaking into my palm. I examine her face before fixating on her parted lips.

  They’re the very definition of tempting. One glance and my shaft swells further, becoming painful.

  God. They’d feel so perfect wrapped around my dick. Her tongue is probably just as lucious. I imagine it swirling around my tip, lapping up every drop of precum I give her.

  Not realizing what I’m doing, I lean towards those parted lips, eyes frozen on the bottom one. My thumb ghosts across the plump, moist flesh.

  Ismini’s breath hitches.

  Fuck. She needs to stop making those sounds!

  I hear another shocked gasp escape her, and can’t help but groan in response.

  I’m going to mount this fucking girl. Gods help me, I need it.

  All of a sudden, highlighted across her skin, I see something I haven’t seen for fourteen-thousand-years.

  Light.

  Pulses of white light reflect off the surface of Ismini’s cheek.

  Light that’s coming from me.

  From my veins.

  My powers—

  My mouth falls open as shock shoots through me. It’s enough to distract me from the heat rushing through my veins.

  Ismini finally answers me, and her voice nearly sends me into a frenzy. “I . . . I don’t know what’s wrong.”

  I lock eyes with her again, and my mind breaks through the lust I’m feeling, unleashing an Etaeryb.

  It’s a one-sided mind-meld. A “gift” all the gods share, and one that always opens up whenever we look into another being’s eyes. If the being has a strong will, powers to block me, or if there’s a physical barrier, like glass, in my way, I can stop it.

  If not, we’re defenseless to the meld.

  As I am right now. I can’t control it. In a split second, my mind becomes one with Ismini’s, leaving her every thought exposed to me. Everything. Who she is. Who she has been. What she consists of.

  And all the pain and sadness that comes along with being her.

  Memories barrel my mind. Things I don’t need to know. Things I can’t bear knowing.

  “They never loved me . . . tried so hard . . . Nylicia . . . a purpose bigger than my life . . .”

  The girl was neglected by her adoptive parents, and that’s putting it lightly. The abuse was never physical, but they left mental scars that haunt her.

  Scars that whisper in her dreams, telling her that she’s worthless. They might have never known she was born to be a sacrifice, but the way her “parents” mistreated her ensured Ismini’s belief that she deserves it.

  That’s how she sees herself. As less of a person. So damn low on the totem pole, that it’s no wonder I chose her to kill for Dimithinia.

  My breath falters.

  I slide my hand from her face and into her hair, tilting her head back so I can take in more. Should I? Hell no. I don’t need more of her in me, merging with my identity.

  But it feels so good. Her pain is beyond measure and I feel it so acutely that I should want to shy away.

  I don’t.

  I want more of her. Even if this kills me, I want everything she has to give. Her identity. Her knowledge.

  Her gods damned soul, if I can have it.

  One memory above all others sucks me in, making me furious. Ismini c
ouldn’t have been more than six years old. I see her so-called mother throw an odd-looking sock monkey at her, one that has a wide, red mouth.

  She grabs the thing, hugging it to herself. She doesn’t seem to notice it’s filthy. It seems that her mother found him in the street somewhere, or perhaps the trash. It doesn’t matter to Ismini, though.

  The small girl had kept him, cleaned him and treasured him.

  I feel raw rage unleashed in my system.

  Uncalled for.

  Hypocritical considering what I’m planning on doing to her.

  What I must do.

  I have to steady myself to keep from falling over. Her memories continue to sear me, but I can’t break the bond, even when I realize that Ismini knows what’s happening.

  Nylicia once told her about the Etaeryb. She’s aware of everything, and her embarrassment knows no end. Her emotions pour into my body through her thoughts.

  Instinctively, I try to soothe her, my thumb caressing her chin and lower lip.

  Her heart flutters in response, and I tense, eyelids lowering. Ismini inhales a shaky breath. When she exhales, warm, wet air rushes over the skin of my thumb. Then more memories attack me—recent memories that are drenched in lust.

  A lust that exists for me alone. A lust that torments her against her will.

  Even her best friend picked up on it. Images race past in my mind. Her friend dragging her to a sex shop. The neon sign above it and how Ismini had looked up at it as they’d entered. She’d gone back home and hesitantly opened the vibrator.

  That night, she lay back in her bed, pale legs spread. I can hear the vibrator buzzing in the background. Right as she tensed, her body on the edge, it’s my own image I see reflected back at me. As she tumbled over that edge, it was me she’d been thinking of.

  Pain explodes in my groin.

  My chest expands, a dangerous rumble building.

  Too much. It’s too much. I can’t pull away. Addicting . . . I need more . . .

  Air rushes in and out of my lungs, my breathing harsh and untamed. Each inhalation brings with it a moist scent I know is coming from her.

  I know where on her, too.

  My mouth waters with every hit of that sweet, musky scent. I can taste it in the back of my throat.