by LC Morgans
“She wouldn’t want you to die, Thrakor. She wouldn’t have wanted your children left behind with no mother or father, and she most certainly wouldn’t agree to you throwing your life away because she had to leave you…”
Kyra had nowhere else to sit, so she remained by Thrakor’s side while he visibly revitalized thanks to her transfusion. However, they spent the rest of the time in silence, only the sounds of the city in the distance along with their slow breaths keeping them company.
When their ten minutes were up, she looked to where Thrayke was still stood with a shell-shocked Kronus and nodded to him. He disconnected them both and brought Kyra the same armchair she’d been sat in the first time around.
As she climbed into it, ready to rest for a few minutes so she could replenish her blood supply, she wondered if Thrayke had any idea just how close he had come to having lost her to Kronus the last time she’d rested in this chair. If he had been selfish and said yes to his father’s offer of her hand in marriage things would be vastly different now, but Kyra refused to dwell on the what if’s. All that mattered was that Kronus had respected her wishes and said no.
She felt a hand slide into hers and knew without opening her eyes it belonged to Kronus. Kyra smiled, gripping him back. “I’m sorry for your loss,” she whispered, and rather than reply he simply shushed her. Kyra felt like responding with something witty, but held her tongue. Sometimes silence was all that was needed and she felt as if now was one of those times.
When she heard rustling a few minutes later, Kyra opened her eyes and watched as King Thrakor climbed up off the bed and got to his feet beside her. He turned sad eyes on her and took a second to consider Kyra in return, before placing one hand on his heart and climbing down onto one knee before her.
“My dear, sweet child. You are aware of the influence your blood has on my immune system, but you know not what your words have done to my aching soul. Thank you,” he said, bowing his head. “I shall protect you as though you are my own daughter. A Draconian woman worthy of her tribe, you are a credit to your people, Kyra Millan. I offer you my solemn vow that I shall endeavor to ensure that you never again come to harm.” King Thrakor then stood and offered her his hand, which she took, letting him pull her to her feet.
He then led her back through to the living area, which had thankfully been emptied, and they stood looking out at the city together for a while. Kronus and Thrayke came with them, but seemed speechless with the shock of watching their leader offer her a solemn vow. “Tell me what I can do for you, Kyra. Here and now? How might I thank you for healing my body and soul?”
She took a moment to think. There was something he could do to ease her anxiety. Kyra had been panicking about one job she still had to do ever since she’d been informed of the process from the Kings own Lawbringer days before.
“I can’t face them. I don’t want a trial. I simply want them dead,” she replied, staring into Thrakor’s intense dark eyes.
“Have you killed another before? Taken a life by your own hand?” he asked, and Kyra shook her head. “Then I’ll grant you your wish, but I must insist that you’re the one to end them. You need to be the one who brings the hammer down. They owe you a satisfying end.”
It made sense. Thrayke’s father had said the same thing to her a few days previously about how she had to be seen taking the lives of those who had wronged her. Greegis and Rasmos both deserved to die, but at her hand and no one else’s. Kyra took a deep breath and nodded.
“Then I want to hunt them,” she answered, making the King smile broadly.
“Like a true Draconian,” he replied, leading her over to where Thrayke and Kronus were still standing watch. “Your female is one I had to see to believe, Thrayke. Treat her well and teach her how to hunt like a Thrakorian, for her prey is bound for Revol.”
***
Thrayke’s face lit up. His father had told them the two scumbags were heading for an isolation chamber in which Kyra would be permitted to end their lives in whatever manner she saw fit. He’d seen it happen numerous ways during his younger days. Some went with the simple approach of death by asphyxiation or poisoning, whereas others were more creative in how they chose to take their vengeance. Having acid fill the chamber to effectively melt the accused from the outside in had been a particularly gruesome sight. He’d also seen them be burned alive via a burst of searing flame that had filled the small compartment at the plaintiff’s request. They were the screams that’d haunted him the most.
Thrayke hadn’t been keen on such maliciously drawn out pain and slow death. He was a hunter. He would’ve stalked his prey and then ripped them limb from limb with his bare hands. Given his choice, he would have laid in wait with nothing but a sharp barb or a rock with which he could pummel his prey to death. The isolation chambers were too cold. Too clinical. Revol would be much more fun and he would certainly enjoy encouraging his beautiful bride-to-be to unleash her inner predator.
Chapter Nineteen
Kyra filled the last of her blood donation bags and let her head fall back against the pillow. She and Thrayke were back at The Sanctum and she’d spent days giving blood in a bid to begin collecting their stores for future use by those Thrakorian’s affected by the Ehrad disease. Because of their higher standing, as well as her personal connection to them, the royal family would remain on a regular schedule of one-to-one transfusions to keep them healthy and well, while those others suffering with the disease would be invited to The Sanctum where they’d be treated with a metered dose of her blood combined with the current working serum. It might not last them as long, but it would do in the interim and even Thrayke seemed happy with the immediate plan they had all agreed on before the pair of them had left The Hub.
She felt tired, but was pleased with how much she’d managed to draw in just the short time. Her body was already replenishing itself, she could feel it, so knew just a short rest was needed and she would be back on her feet in no time.
Thrayke woke her a while later to inform Kyra that it was time. She didn’t need to ask what for. They met Kronus at the dock to the back of the facility and together the three of them travelled overnight to the viciously uninhabitable planet of Revol.
As they broke the atmosphere and descended, Kyra could see vast forests and huge oceans on the horizon, but knew there were also deserts aplenty. The only life there came in the form of vicious predators contained in the south and a type of flesh-eating bacteria called Necrosia they’d already been given a vaccine for. She, Thrayke, and Kronus also had on special suits made of a resistant kind of material that she was told would protect them during their time on the planets surface. Their prey hadn’t been so lucky.
“They were dropped off here three hours ago,” Thrayke informed her and Kyra nodded. She’d been practicing her tracking and knew the moment they’d touched down which direction each of her trophies had headed. As much as she still didn’t like the idea of taking her first two official lives, Kyra called upon both her training instilled in her years before and the self-defense skills Thrayke had recently added to her previous knowledge of martial arts.
At his insistence, they had spent the first week back at The Sanctum training together from dawn until dusk. Their fights had started playful, but had grown heated along the way, and Kyra grinned to herself remembering how she’d often managed to distract him using ways that weren’t exactly in the martial arts handbook. There was no way she could overpower any Thrakorian though, much less a hardened soldier, but she still had her methods with which she could distract and evade.
None of the training mattered anyway. Kyra hadn’t told Thrayke this, but she didn’t really want to use any of his diversionary tactics to subdue Rasmos or Greegis before taking their lives using a weapon. She was finally ready to take what was rightfully hers and wanted to look into their eyes as the light faded from them, so didn’t mind if she had to take a beating to get it. Kyra was after a fair fight, or as fair of one as she could get, which was
why she had given so much blood in the build up to their trip to claim her vengeance. Because once she was done, she expected she might need some time to heal and recover from the fight she was sure at least Rasmos was planning on putting up.
The trio started off in the direction of the footprints left for them by the two convicts who had evidently decided to travel together, at least initially. They jogged onward towards a dark forest, but halted when they came upon the first of their foes standing in wait for them.
“Didn’t feel like playing the game, I see?” Thrayke called to the greying Thrak who had visibly diminished since Kyra had last seen him aboard the mother ship on its return to Thrakor.
“I was going to run, but knew if you didn’t catch up with me the Necrosia would finish me off in no time. I figured I might as well save myself the trouble and get it over with,” Rasmos answered with a sneer. “Which one of you is going to avenge her then? The lover who failed her miserably in her hour of need? Or the doting Prince who should have slit her throat on Invasion Day and saved us all the trouble?” He looked back and forth between the two Thraks, rolling his shoulders in readiness for the fight he clearly assumed was about to begin.
“Neither,” Kyra answered, stepping forward. The two men parted and she moved closer, reeling with anxious dread at finally standing before him once again. It was hard to ignore the fear of her kidnapper that was still ringing in her gut, but Kyra refused to buckle under the pressure. She deserved her vengeance and ignored him when Rasmos laughed loudly, his deep voice echoing off the rocks behind her.
“Aww my sweet pet. Don’t you remember how many times I broke you? How easy it was for me? You’re no match for me and you know it,” he taunted. Kyra shrugged, stepping within arms reach of him.
“I don’t need to match you, Rasmos.” She hit him with a punch to the throat, moving quickly and fluidly from that move straight in front of him to administer a drop knee to his heart. “I simply have to want it enough,” Kyra added, watching with satisfaction as he hit the floor and climbed back up, rubbing at his chest and swaying on his feet already. He tried to hit back but she was too quick, whereas his diminished muscle and lack of adequate nutrition during his incarceration showed in his sluggish movements. She punched and kicked him before throwing him to the ground, where she continued to exact her revenge on his body. Kyra had thought she’d hate it, when in fact she was enjoying herself more than she could have ever imagined.
When Rasmos was on the brink of death, she halted. Peering down at him while gasping for breath thanks to the exertion of pummeling him so hard with her fists. “Here kitty, kitty,” she hissed, taunting him with the same words he’d called to her while she’d hid from him inside Thrayke’s closet. His eyes widened in surprise, but Rasmos didn’t tease her or try and hurt Kyra with any more of his disdainful words. He simply closed his eyes and accepted his fate. Kyra delivered the final blow to his temple, knocking him unconscious in an instant and she then watched as his breath halted and he faded away.
“Take a moment, Kyra.” Thrayke’s voice was somewhere nearby, calling to her through her red mist and she pulled her gaze away from the body lying slumped beneath her. It was over. Rasmos was no more. She had taken a life at last but what shocked her more than the act itself was how she felt no remorse. Kyra stood, wiping his blood from her hands onto the fabric covering her thighs.
“I don’t need a moment, Thrayke. This ends tonight,” she answered, walking toward her betrothed without a care for the body she’d left behind in the dirt. “Which way?” she asked, not failing to notice the glint in his eye as he took her in. Thrayke was pleased with her, she could tell. He lifted his hand and stroked her hair away from her face, before pulling a cloth from his pocket and cleaning her with it. When he pulled it away, the once white material was dark crimson, covered in blood that was not her own.
“The trail leads south,” he told her with a satisfied smile. “Come on, tough girl,” Thrayke added, taking her hand in his before leading the way. Kronus fell in line beside them, a huge smile on his face too as the trio left the body of her first conquest behind and carried on in search of her final foe—Greegis. He wasn’t a soldier, nor was he well versed in martial arts or defense strategies. Taking him down wouldn’t necessarily be easier than Rasmos, but she was determined to enjoy herself this time around. To take it slower.
Kyra was more than ready to annihilate the last of her foes, and so she led the charge, following his footprints until they reached a rocky waterfall where the trail ended. It reminded Kyra of the old days when she and her friends had gone through numerous training terrains in a bid to pass their primary training top of their year. She felt like she’d come a thousand miles since then—billions actually—but she was still that same headstrong young woman who had been determined to succeed no matter what. And, like that young woman, nothing and no one was going to get in her way. She wasn’t even going to ask her two protectors for backup.
Kyra made a beeline for the falls and scoped the water out, deciding against going in for a dip this time. She instead thought about how she had once taken shelter behind a waterfall just like this and headed for the crawlspace behind where the water thundered down from above.
It was tight. Too tight for Kronus or Thrayke to fit but she didn’t wait for them or try and look for an alternative route. Growing impatient, she squeezed herself between a pair of tightly locked rocks and carried on into the shadowy cave beyond. Kyra charged ahead guns blazing, but didn’t stop to think about the implications of acting so erratically. As she reached the inside, it took her a few seconds to become accustomed to the darkness and in that moment of distraction realized she had made a fundamental mistake. The prey she’d been tracking suddenly became the predator. Greegis threw himself against her, knocking her into the rocks behind.
“Crap!” Kyra groaned, feeling the blood gush into her eyes from a cut above her forehead. She swiped her hands across her face, wiping desperately in a bid to see what was coming, but it was no use. All she saw was black. Greegis lunged for her, pinning Kyra to the ground with surprising strength. He then grabbed her by the shoulders, slamming her up and down against the cold, hard rock while sobbing loudly, his cries echoing off the walls around them. It hurt more than she could have ever imagined and Kyra quickly realized she’d underestimated Greegis tremendously. The rocks dug into her back, breaking open her skin and crushing her bones. Cold seeped into her from below and her head span.
“Why?” Greegis murmured, finally stopping his violent shaking before holding Kyra to him like a broken ragdoll. He then began wailing and crying out incoherently, clearly having gone mad while imprisoned at The Hub. Kyra moaned in his embrace, trying to fight him, to pull away, but she was losing so much blood she felt her eyes begin to droop. She was fading away and had no way of fighting the darkness as it came to claim her. “Why couldn’t you have stayed mine? Why did you have to leave me, Paynton?” he was ranting, raving like a madman, but Kyra understood. She understood all too well how it felt to lose it all and to feel desperate enough to do something crazy in an attempt to try and bring it back again.
“I was never yours, Greegis. That’s why,” she murmured, but it was no use. He held her tighter, cutting off her air supply. Kyra saw stars and knew she was finally slipping away but that she was no longer strong enough to do anything about it.
She closed her eyes as realization hit. This was what she’d truly come to Revol for. Pain. Nothingness. True vengeance for her own misdemeanors as well as her captors. She’d thought Rasmos would’ve been the one to deliver her with her own form of corporal punishment, but no. How poignant, she thought, as she felt the icy hand of death try and take hold.
No matter how hard she’d fought him, it seemed her creator had potentially sealed her fate after all.
The end of book three in the Invasion Day series.
(To be continued in book four…)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
LC Morgans is an
author with an obsession for telling powerful stories. Not a day goes by that she doesn’t immerse herself in other worlds, and her desire to write about them came from an early age. Shutting off her imagination was never an option, so the stories came to life inside her mind, and in time they’ll all make it to the page.
She loves hearing from her fans and you can connect with her via the following:
www.LCMorgan.co.uk
www.facebook.com/LCMorgansauthor
If you enjoyed this book, please consider sharing your thoughts by leaving a review to help promote LC Morgans work.
LC Morgans other novels include
Humankind: Book 1 in the Invasion Day series
Autonomy: Book 2 in the Invasion Day series
