“Tell me,” I mumble calmly, even as impotent fury strangles me and the howls in my head become insanely loud. “Does your brother know we have what he wants?” Meeting Lisrn’s eyes, I smile, even as the human comes around to finish amputating my left leg. “Let him know we have her.” The others were discussing taking the girl back with them. “And I won’t let him near her anytime soon.”
“Hunt, I’ll be back in a few hours to fuck with you some more. In the meantime, I’ll let the humans do what they need to do.”
That fucking asshole.
He dematerializes and I have barely a second to register that before the sound of the saw coming to life fills the operating theater once again.
When is my extraction due, damn it?
Closing my eyes, I grit back the warrior’s instinct that demands I fight back and bring up Soleria’s image in my head.
Just like last time.
Just like every damn time until the day I die.
Nylicia said this would be my path to fixing my mistake.
And fuck it, because I plan to walk it. Even with my legs missing.
The spinning blade makes contact. Cold pinpricks of agony hit me, arching my back and making bursts of light cut into the vision of Soleria I’m imagining.
Fisting my hands, claws cutting deep into my palms, I grit my teeth hard.
A final tug and the separation of the limb reverberates through me, followed by the hysteria of my wolfen genetics.
Legless.
Utterly legless.
Blood hemorrhages, thanks to my immortal regeneration. I’ve lost a small lake’s worth in the last day, first thanks to the R’mannev, and now thanks to this.
It’s enough to make a being wish for mortality. For unconsciousness. For an end to all this.
In a twilight state, I let my head roll back as another wave of weakness washes over me at this new round of blood loss.
Something seems to slam into the side of the base, rocking it on its foundations.
My eyes slide open and I wonder if I imagined it . . .
The humans are frozen, looking around them—
A cracking, metallic sound booms down the large hallway the elementals were taken down, followed by what feels like an earthquake of massive proportions.
Everything shakes. Alarms starts blaring all at once.
The humans trip over themselves as they stumble up the stairs to the second-floor landing. A large human in black army fatigues and a full helmet shouts commands at them in Spanish, waving them over in his direction.
To the right, directly across from the tunnel on the left side, is another walkway. The humans run down that way as if their lives depend on it.
The masked human takes one last look in my direction and then he’s gone as well.
Leaving me here, strapped to this fucking table, with that dark energy robbing me of nearly everything that makes me an immortal, godly male.
Some sort of explosion comes from the hallway on the left.
Then the sound of someone running—someone massive and with heavy feet.
Cyake.
My best friend appears at the mouth of the hallway in his armor, as if he never changed out of it after the battle in Brownsville.
Extraction has arrived.
How many hours has it been since I was captured?
Embarrassed at how my throat tightens at the sight of him, I remain silent as his eyes land on me.
Or, rather, the still bleeding stumps that are my missing legs.
His eyes enlarge with his wrath, momentarily flashing blue.
Reeling it in, he materializes to me and goes immediately to work on one of the computers. Within seconds, he’s managed to turn off the flow of dark energy and rip off all my bindings.
Then, his leather coat materializes into his hands and he shoves me up to force it on me. “Your female’s incoming—oh, is she incoming. Gotta get those cuffs covered up. Unless you’re ready to let her know you’re mated to her?”
Soleria’s here?
She’s awake already?
Somehow, I have the presence of mind to shake my head.
“That’s what I thought.” Cyake moves back to the computers, typing away. I struggle to hold myself up in a seated position.
Steps. Smaller this time. Dainty.
The blast of high-octane power that comes next is anything but.
Soleria walks into sight, in the same outfit she fucking died in—black leather pants, that charcoal tank that leaves her chest and arms bared.
Black-and-red war demon markings curl around her forearms, biceps, up her defined, feminine shoulders and up the sides of her neck to cup that perfect face. Her cheek bones are sharper. Even sexier.
She stumbles at the sight of me, her eyes completely black except for her irises.
Her baby-blue irises that are suddenly engulfed by light red—like small swirls of blood writhing inside them.
But it’s the unmistakable power roaring off her that truly floors me.
Even that’s not enough to stop the immediate, twisted reaction in me. Bloodlust spirals to life, making a mockery of the thirst I once felt for her in our first dream.
Making a mockery of fourteen-thousand-years of Hyren genetics.
After an interminable lifetime hating all vampires but one, I’m caught in the grip of the most pervasive, throat-burning, heart-pounding, groin-tightening hunger I’ve ever experienced. Sensation scrapes along my gums, mere breaths before I feel my canines elongate behind my lips.
Ah, gods. My female. MINE.
All I can do is choke out her name, praying she won’t see my fangs. “Sol . . .”
Those unnatural eyes land on my lower body.
The reaction hits her like a freight train when she sees that my legs are missing and how much blood I’ve lost.
She appears before me, dematerializing already, chest heaving. Heart-broken, her new eyes meet mine, shimmering with her pain. “They cut off your fucking legs?” It’s practically a tear-filled wheeze.
The love I feel for her crashes head-on with the bloodlust. It takes every bit of willpower not to drag her into my arms. “Baby.”
Any sign of emotion leaves Soleria, replaced by an eerie calmness I know too well.
After all, I faced those powers once before.
Cyake, also attuned to both my female’s personality and the curse she’s been saddled with, turns away from the keyboard. “Soleria, whatever you’re thinking, wait.”
“Both of you wait outside.” Like some queen, she waves us away.
Air rushes by, molecules dispersing.
It isn’t until we slam into form outside the mountain that reality registers.
My female is an immortal, half-demon, half-reality bender.
She’s also now the Goddess of Conquest, one of the darkest forces to ever exist.
And she just kicked me and my best friend out of that volcano as if we’re yesterday’s trash.
Five minutes later
My argument with Cy seems beyond foolish now. Even with every male, Hyren, mated instinct screaming at me to get back in there, lack of legs and all, I must admit an obvious truth:
My female’s got this.
We watch Mount Teide erupting for the first time in a century. I’m trapped on this floor. The others are trapped on their knees feet behind me, apparently willed there by my vicious mate.
Cyake tilts his head back to take in the geyser of lava, the only intelligent one among us dying to remain out of the destroyed base.
Even Crius is deranged with his need to get inside. Dimithinia entered the base alongside Cyake and my R’ma.
My R’ma. Fuck, those are definitely two words I never expected to string together. And if I did, I didn’t expect to be alive too long after.
Yet, I’m still here.
My female’s been given a tainted force to control. If it’s up to me, I’m not going anywhere. No way I’m leaving her to deal with this on her own.
Soleria reforms six feet from us.
The force keeping the others on their knees dissipates by her will alone.
Crius is on his feet in the blink of an eye, teeth bared like the Hyren he is. His changed eyes are huge and a pale purple shade; his real eye color. “I’ll deal with you later.”
“Do you want to fucking die?” I shout, like a prostrated pussy on this floor.
No matter. He talks like that to her again and he’s fucking done.
Crius ignores me. “Where is Dimithinia?”
“She said something about chasing the mortals escaping in the woods.”
He’s gone.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that male is bonded with the ancient queen.
Hades flashes to his feet, advancing on Soleria. He adjusts the rolled up sleeves of his expensive black shirt, irises momentarily flashing to his natural eye color.
An incandescent, shimmering bronze.
“Female, I understand what’s inside you, but let me make this clear to you. I’m a motherfucking King and a god. Remind yourself of that before you ever think of putting me to my knees again.”
“Both you and your brother are asking to die.”
His eyes black once more, he swipes strands of thick black hair off his forehead and scowls down at me. “Control your female, Hunt. For all our sakes.” He dematerializes away.
But not before Soleria throws him a final jab in a duo-toned voice. “He doesn’t own me, and no one controls me. You remind yourself of that.”
The arrow hits its mark with deadly accuracy, reminding me of the truth.
This female might have come for me, might have felt pain at my injuries, but a day ago I lost her.
She can’t even look at me right now.
Evesse and Ismini sprint to her, both calling her name.
The distance in Soleria’s expression sends a jolt down my spine.
“I’ll see you back in Enzyria.”
We all exchange worried, stunned glances after she’s gone.
Dyletri kneels by my side. “Those pieces of shit are going to pay for what they did to you.”
Cyake points with his thumb over his shoulder, where the eruption seems to gain force. “Um, they kind of already did.” In the distance, the screams of the humans that inhabit the island can be heard. Frantic calls for evacuation.
Evesse and Ismini head back to us, glaring down at me with what can only be the fury born out of female solidarity.
“If my friend is never the same again, you’re the first fucker I’m coming after,” the Goddess of Justice warns in her own split voice, pointing down at me with that never-ending anger she seems to have in spades.
“For once, I totally agree with her,” the Goddess of Flux mumbles under her breath.
Zeniel kneels on my other side, grimacing with sympathy. “Let’s just get home and get you back on your feet. I need you to fix this mess you’ve made before my mate demands I unleash my vengeance on you.”
Chapter 30
Aurora Complex—M-Kon Base #129
- Mount Teide, Tenerife, Canary Islands, Spain
SILLIZI, GODDESS OF DARKNESS
“F uck.”
That low, guttural groan levels me out. Like a skyscraper on demolition day.
Behind this energy shield, I’m safe from being seen, as I have been for weeks. Pathetic, really. The Aviraji have sided with these egotistical, dumb-as-shit humans, but they haven’t truly prepared them for this war.
That dark miasma that can weaken us is one thing—and a funny one at that. I’ll confess I have obsessive fantasies about turning that weapon on the confused male in front of me.
Or at least one of his kind while he watches.
M-Kon might be deluded, but not everyone involved is evil. Some, as I’ve said, are just plain stupid. They believe their new weapons only immobilize those that are evil. Joke’s on them. What they really do is attack those with any light in them. Any goodness.
Swear to Illion, the day I get to hit this dude with that dark energy, I’m going to cackle in his face.
More proof of their misguided stupidity: I know every inch of this base. Have traveled around it for hours at my leisure. Violated privacy. Gathered a gross amount of intel. How? Old-fashioned Gnetica, baby. These suckers can’t sense me here. None of their technology can. I’ve caused a few energy shortages, but they’ve brushed them off as normal.
The base isn’t all I’ve been spying on.
The man on the bed lets out another groan, leg bent and sliding up the bed. Lying on his stomach, with the covers pooled at his lower back, he tightens that leg . . .
And rocks his hips into the mattress on a smooth roll.
The defined muscles across his back flex.
My teeth press into my bottom lip.
I’m ashamed to admit it, but after practically living with the dude—not that he knows this, mind you—I’ve had to just accept it.
Evesse’s big brother is hot as fucking fuck.
You’re a primal goddess, cougar. He’s practically an embryo in age compared to you. Look at how far you’ve fallen.
Alexis “Lex” Salazar hisses out another “fuck” and flings himself onto his back.
The covers refuse to complete the trip with him.
Hello, that-shouldn’t-be-human.
Then again, Nylicia wants him brought in. That means that soon he might no longer be one.
But, still.
His lids slide open, glaring with dark fury at the ceiling.
Of course he’s awake. He doesn’t sleep lately. He can’t.
Because of me.
His beautiful, lickable cock kicks against his lower abs.
My body responds with a leviathan-sized throb.
This is so sad. The only solace I can take is knowing my twin isn’t doing much better while trailing this one’s best friend.
Ismini’s brother. The one she knows nothing about.
My sister thinks I don’t know what she wants. Hint: it has to do with faces, and riding, and all of it involves Kaden Harrovnian.
Poor foolish female. Never forget: I know everything.
Not that I’m judging her. I’ve always been a horny bitch. Yet the amount of effort it’s taking me to remain on this seat and not materialize on top of that human is pathetic.
“Why is this fucking happening to me?” Lex mumbles angrily at the ceiling.
Again, because I’m here. Because I’m practically his shadow every minute of every day, hidden by the Gnetica.
Because, somehow, he can sense me past it.
It took me weeks to admit it to myself, but a few days ago I finally did: Alexis Salazar is somehow connected with me in such a visceral way that he can sense my presence.
Something that really, really turns him on.
He licks his lower lip, an unconscious gesture, but a carnal one nonetheless. That boy’s entire body is primed for sex, even if it’s against his will.
Whore that I apparently am, my body is ready to give it to him.
A human.
Eve’s Fort’em.
Considering his affiliation? My fucking enemy.
“Fine, you fucking win,” he practically spits at the ceiling in his anger, those brown eyes appearing black in the dim lighting.
An odd, small sound leaves me, my mind already picking up on his intentions.
What triggered my a ha moment about him sensing me? Three days ago, he finally gave in to his inner tension and he fucked his fist.
In his shower.
While I watched—and actually died a little inside.
I got through it without touching myself once, reminding myself that I’m above his species. I don’t even like them.
The entire time I knew that if he did it again, I wouldn’t be able to handle it. Not without joining in.
Lex’s big hand reaches down to pull the covers off. His defined abs tighten with the move.
His dick throbs again.
My mind blanks, as if I’m some novice who’s never seen a beautiful erection before.
I’ve tried them all once in my ancient life—incubi, Hyren, almost all the subspecies of Erencei, Vy’shi, vampire, etcetera.
Never a human. My strength makes that impossible. I can hurt them just from having them inside me. My body’s that strong.
Now, I’m practically salivating at the mouth for the sexed-up mortal on the bed.
Stretching back against the pillows, Alexis curls one arm under his head, that thick black hair stark against his pale skin. The size of his flexed bicep next to his temple is nearly outrageous considering his species. His other hand trails down his abs.
The ability to breathe abandons me.
Those long fingers wrap around his dick in a slow movement. His sharp intake of breath is loud in the room.
The Gnetica hides my own answering groan. You can’t have him, Sil. Stop wanting him. Not that it’s my fault. My body can clearly recognize a gorgeous male specimen when it sees it. That male was made to be ridden.
Hard.
Rough.
Just not by me; I’d break him.
Unless he becomes immortal.
Tightening his fist, he gives a measured thrust. Every move he makes is fluid, sensual. I’ve only seen him fuck his fist twice, but there’s no denying it:
Alexis Salazar knows how to fuck.
Humming under his breath, he continues that hypnotizing up-and-down stroke, taking his sweet time with himself. Building the pressure. His balls are tight beneath his cock, already on the verge.
My pants disappear and I slide to the edge of the seat. This definitely qualifies me as a whore, but I don’t care anymore. Eyes locked on him, I slide my fingers along my clit, twitching at the shock of pleasure.
On the bed, Alexis jerks, as if feeling it with me. “Fuck that’s good.”
His husky groan sends another jolt through me.
I press one hand on the seat behind me, leaning back. Legs spread as far as they’ll go, I play with myself, offering it to him even though he can’t see me. My breathless moans are in my ears, mixing with his, and I’m hit with the reckless urge to lower the Gnetica.
To let him hear me.
Blood Drenched Conquest (Ryze Book 3) Page 26
