Except most of my citizens are immortal.
Immortals don’t just cough for the hell of it.
Actually, they don’t get sick at all, unless something is terribly wrong.
Mortally wrong.
On impulse, I phase back to the first floor, aiming for the spot straight above from where I’m standing. The ground floor of this palatial skyscraper is the same color as most of the areas within the building—dark grey, marble-like floors and walls, red circuitry and lights everywhere, as well as sculptures in varying shades of red, black, and grey.
I’m in a narrow hallway.
The days have been nothing but blurs ever since the throne was handed over to me; constant meetings with Halamar, his council of advisors, as well as getting to know the ins and outs of the kingdom.
Its history. The citizens’ desires.
Touring the entire city—hell, this building alone—hasn’t been possible yet.
Pinpointing where the coughing is coming from isn’t difficult; there’s a black door roughly twenty feet away from me.
“Easy. Just breathe. It doesn’t last as long as when they touch others. He was only thinking about her. It’ll be over soon.”
Nythi? When did she return from Enzyria? Isn’t she supposed to be in hiding?
Whoever is with her doesn’t reply. Pretty hard to do so when they can’t stop retching long enough to catch their breath.
My first thought is that it’s Ianthen, but that doesn’t make sense. I just left him.
And the coughing seems too delicate to belong to him. Female. I flash to the door, commanding it open with a wave of my hand.
It’s one of the many small bathrooms that litter the ground floor.
The first things I see are the two pairs of feminine, leather-covered legs kneeling on the ground. The rest of their bodies are hidden from view by the black-and-red, glowing divider wall that separates the toilet from the rest of the bathroom, yet it doesn’t matter.
Their scents alone give them away.
Right on its heels? The overpowering smell of blood. There’s a puddle of it spreading beneath their legs.
My horrified brain is sluggish, slow to catch up. I stand here, at the doorway, my mind screaming the identity of those two women.
And also jumping to the most logical conclusion.
“Sol?” Nythi cries out, finally sensing me here.
Next to her, Dimithinia groans, but she’s too busy vomiting to offer any other reaction to my presence.
Vomiting.
Blood.
Dimi.
Oh God. Oh God, no.
Heart in my throat, I dematerialize, coming to a stop behind both females.
Just as I knew I’d find, Nythi is kneeling behind Dimi, rubbing her back as she vomits blood into the already overflowing toilet.
Reflected all over the black, shiny surface of the toilet and walls? Light. Not just the red light of the optic cables, but the glowing light coming from the inside of both their arms.
Rows of glowing staples.
Just like Ianthen.
Unlike Ianthen, both females have giant marks gracing the left sides of their necks, down their arms and chests.
Regardless. I already knew Nythi suffers a Fieren and now it’s clear Dimi is in one, too.
Nythi’s staring up at me, eyes glinting sadly, as if she can read my thoughts and the direction they’re heading in.
Dimithinia pushes herself away from the toilet with another groan, wiping at her red-stained face. The mating mark on her neck is made up of three colors I recognize immediately—black, silver, and light purple.
The same purple shade I saw Crius’ eyes change into after I exited Mount Teide.
She’s mated to him and he isn’t mated to her.
My heart shatters and despite the sheer turmoil of what I’m thinking in the back of my head, I can’t stop myself from falling to my knees in the puddle of blood and whispering her name.
Leaning back against the wall, Dimithinia smiles sadly at me. “What is the saying, Sol? It . . . is what it is?”
“No it’s fucking not,” I snap, skin burning with anger. “This is not what it is, not what it’s going to be. You’re mated to him and there’s no way in hell he’s leaving you like this to die all over again!”
The blood all around us disappears, either from a thought of hers or Nythi’s, and she reaches for my arm with her now clean hand. On the insides of her forearms, those chips continue to pulse with rapid beams of light. “Listen to me, Sol. He cannot know. I do not wish for him to chose me out of pity.”
That comment is like a well-aimed kick to the solar plexus.
Another reminder of the conclusions I’d begun jumping to.
My eyes fly to the inside of Nythi’s wrists, at her own set of staples . . . trembling, I slide them closed, blocking out the sight. “What are those chips for?” I ask in a deadened tone.
Of course, neither one of them answers.
Which is an answer in and of itself, isn’t it?
Opening my watery eyes, I nail Nythi with a hard look. “Don’t fuck with me. Just confirm what I already know.”
She narrows her own eyes back at me and for a second I believe she’s too stubborn to give it up. Then, all she says is, “I promised him I wouldn’t,” and there’s another seismic shift in the ground beneath me.
Another realigning of reality that sends everything into a tailspin.
Falling back onto my ass, I crab crawl away from them both, even as they call out my name and reach for me.
Now it all makes sense.
The fangs.
The all-black eyes as he fucked me.
Coming up against the wall, I press my back to it and grit out one last time, “What exactly are they for, damn it?”
Nythi clenches her jaw.
Dimithinia sighs wearily, pushing her sweat soaked hair away from her too-pale face. “They control the symptoms, Sol. For the most part.”
Mated.
Fieren.
Control the symptoms.
Nausea hits, a brutal and inconvenient flashback to my human weakness from before.
It’s nothing compared to the way my vindictiveness leaves me in a rush. All my gloating. All my female pride.
For weeks I told myself he was lucky not to be mated to me. That if he ever did, it’d be his doom because I would just happily leave him to suffer in a Fieren.
Bullshit.
Utter. Fucking. Bullshit.
My voice trembles as hard as the rest of me as I face his twin again. “How far along is he, Nythi?”
The internal struggle plays out all over her face, the part of her that’s a sister clearly warring against the part of her that is my friend.
Shaking my head, I feel the tears I was shedding earlier starting back up, one of them sliding down my cheek. “Just tell me already. How. Long?”
“He found out as soon as you kissed Ricky.”
I’m definitely going to vomit.
“How am I ever going to get the image of you and Ricky out of mine?”
But it wasn’t an image, was it? By now he’s been in that unrequited mating for weeks. By now it’s most likely images. How many times has he seen me with Ricky?
Has . . . has he seen me with anyone else?
Dimithinia simply stares at me with sadness and sympathy. There’s no surprise in her expression.
She knew he was mated to me, too.
The desire to rage at both of the females before me for helping him hide this from me is strong. An impulse I can only control due to another, more pressing need.
He’s dying.
I am the one Cyake prophesied.
I’m going to be the thing that kills him.
And I can’t fucking live without him.
Primal fear, the kind I didn’t even feel when facing my own death, makes my molecules disperse, heading in the only direction possible.
Straight back to him.
- Azrum
ont, South Eren Outskirts, City Wall.
IANTHEN
Twenty-six-thousand miles of wall. Twice as long as the Great Wall of China. An entire circular barrier surrounding South Eren. Two-hundred-feet thick and made up of marble, Karvite, and what I’m once again convinced is reverse-engineered mind demon technology.
The walls I’m walking next to with Zexistr are three-hundred-feet high—nearly impossible for any immortal to clear in a single leap. Every time I get too close to the outer layer, electricity sparks along the surface of my skin.
Specially designed Gneticas. Inhibitors that originate from the walls and cover the entire city in a perfect half-bubble. The barrier that prevents anyone from dematerializing in or out.
In other words: our main line of defense against the approaching rebels.
There’s no way they can get past the walls. At least, there never was before.
But they’re mobilizing now, heading straight for us according to the latest reports. So what the fuck changed? I’ll tell you what: those motherfuckers believe they now have a way to breach those walls. What that could be is beyond not just me, but the entire war council. However, with the way things have been with the Aviraji, I can’t shake the feeling they might be involved.
Spies within the rebel camp haven’t been able to confirm, but one thing is for certain: there’s a reported ten million rebels within the ranks. Just like the citizens on this side, any one of fighting age has been vigorously trained for war.
There’s twice that number on our side, all trained for war as well, but the casualties we risk with two forces that powerful colliding is still a huge problem.
To make it all worse, the binding Zex was able to get from Vedlyl—who in turn got them from Evesse when Zeniel sent her back to Enzyria for a day—seem to be burning a hole in my back pocket.
War approaches my female’s kingdom and due to her impending decision about her ovulation cycle, I won’t be here to help her.
I’ll be back on Earth, in my mother’s domain on the island of Viti Levu in Fiji, either suffering a slow death or a quick one. Keiros agreed to come with me and be there to end it in my final moments.
Either way, when my female goes into heat, she’s going to pick between isolating herself in her time of need or giving into another male.
And I won’t survive either one.
I’ll be tied down, restrained by one of the most unbreakable binds in existence, as my body rails and shuts down.
Mom doesn’t know about my situation yet, but I guess I’ll be confessing in a few hours when I head over there.
“I’ve seen some crazy shit since the beginning of time, but this right here is one of the most fucked up,” Zex comments besides me.
I shrug, striving for nonchalance, even as my gut roils with the futility of my situation. “Nah. It’s really not. You’re just saying that because of how you feel about me.”
“What have I told you about going soft on me?”
I ignore that smartass, eyeing the wall once more. Hundreds of feet above our heads, the sound of soldiers moving about and talking to each other can still be heard.
There’s at least four legions stationed on this side of the wall alone.
Many more throughout.
Gods damn it, it’s still not enough. If it wasn’t for Zex’s promise to remain behind and fight them on Sol’s behalf, I would have zero faith about leaving to meet my own end.
He’s my only hope for my female’s future.
Only problem with that? If they send in the Goddess of Reality, of perception—Zex’s daughter Rivi—not only is him fighting against her a near impossibility, but depending on how loyal she’s feeling towards her mom, she can throw the entire battle to the rebels with a single thought.
It would be her powers of aligning Reality versus my female’s powers of Conquest, both fighting to establish dominance in the minds of each sides.
As powerful as Soleria is, she’s still young, new to her powers, unstable in her DNA.
Rivi is nearly sixteen-thousand. Even older than I am. She’s been doing this for a really fucking long time. She’s never truly stepped in on either the Ryze’s (her father’s) side or the Aviraji’s (her mother’s), but then again her father has never posed as much of a threat to her mother’s life as he does now.
“What are we going to do if she sends Rivi?” I ask him, knowing it’s a raw subject but one that needs to be discussed nonetheless.
“I’ll have to immobilize my own daughter without killing her. She’ll never forgive me for exerting that kind of dominance over her, but if Rivi is finally stepping in on her mother’s side, I’ll have no choice.”
Turning to him, I catch him staring off into the distance, expression troubled and pensive.
In other words, his usual when he isn’t being an annoying, cocky, pain in the ass.
“You sure you’ll be able to do that to your own daughter?”
Gold, silver, light blue and light green eyes flicker in my direction. “A father has to be strong-willed with his children when necessary. Rivi might be fully grown, but her love for her mother has left her confused her entire life.”
Not to mention the fact that once Zex began trying to pull away from Maivera, she in turn began restricting his access to his daughter. The girl grew up mostly with her mother, something that left her with only one person as her main role model.
A vain, narcissistic, emotionally immature diva.
That one came from Keiros, not Cyake.
A pop tears through the air behind us, the sound of someone’s body breaking through the sound barrier.
As one, he and I whirl, armors appearing on our crouching, ready-for-battle bodies.
But it isn’t a threat.
It’s my female, face pale, cheeks flushed, tears leaking down her face.
My female, crying, frightened, coming straight at me with hell in her eyes.
“How could you not tell me?” she rasps, pointing at me. “Why wouldn’t you?”
“Again,” Zex mumbles. “What did you do this time?”
I have a horrible feeling that I know.
Especially when Sol phases before me and shoves at my chest, heartache twisting her expression. “Why would you hide that from me? Why wouldn’t you tell me that you’re mated to me?”
Fuccckk. She found out.
My lips part, brain scrambling for a reply, any kind of reply—
A cry erupts from countless beings above us on the parapet . . .
Right as the protective Gnetica encasing the city shimmers and collapses, leaving the entire expanse of South Eren unprotected. All around the walls, the gates begin to lower on their own.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see what looks like a short, long-haired brunette dashing off into the distance. Her form is promptly eclipsed by the sheer mass of bodies heading towards the walls.
Soleria’s wide eyes meet mine just as we hear the first cries.
“Tackien!”
Their word for rebel.
Someway, somehow, those bastards have already arrived and disabled the defenses.
Someone lowered them, allowing the rebels free entry.
Chapter 45
IANTHEN
I t’s an instant wave. A deluge. Legions are overrun in a tsunami of rebel Erencei warriors, their all-red armors shining like blood in the sun.
Shouts.
Cries.
Weapons clashing against weapons.
Throughout the empire, war-cries sound out.
And behind me? Its queen whimpers, a sound I know isn’t born out of fear.
How could it be when a potent, succulent scent is rising in the air, blasting through the atmosphere with even more force than the invading army?
The reaction is immediate, a catastrophic sonic wave of insanity in all our bloodstreams.
Every single gods damned male within a five mile radius.
The fighting suddenly stops.
As does all movement
.
Slowly, the males begin turning in our direction, their heads tilted back as they lock on the source of that scent.
Feet from us, Zexistr lets out a pained growl, clearly responding to it.
To my female’s scent.
“I-Ianthen?” Sol gasps, grabbing onto the back of my arm.
My body on fire, I spin and snap that arm around her, slamming her against me. That’s all it takes for thousands of males no more than thirty feet from us to spin in her direction.
To bare their teeth.
To take a single step towards my female’s with the intention of giving her what her body’s demanding.
Soleria’s gone into fucking heat just as an invasion of her kingdom has begun.
Millennia of viciously honed Hyren instincts override the signals flaring up my spine, enraged howls ping ponging throughout my head.
Kill them all before they touch your female. NOW.
Zexistr eases away some more, his chest pumping with low growls.
He wants her, too. His body wants to sate hers.
Forgetting fourteen-thousand-years of friendship, I bare my teeth at him next. Logic is a tiny, shrinking voice in the back of my head, warning me this isn’t his fault.
It isn’t any of theirs.
They’re simply reacting to a biological imperative that’s beyond their control.
Just like the need within Soleria that’s inadvertently calling for a male’s body to fill her with seed.
She wraps her arms around me, practically climbing me, rubbing her face frantically against mine.
Choosing me over them with that one move alone.
Not that it’ll make them back off. They’re far gone, as am I, hearts racing, pupils dilated, blood pumping hot in our groins.
“Please baby, please. I thought I could handle this. Do something.”
I moan like a needy motherfucker at her sexy little plea.
Lids heavy, I face off against the males beginning to make their way to us. “She chose me. She’s mine. Stay back.”
“A Hyren? Never!”
Don’t know where that accented statement came from, but it’s the only signal they need to galvanize into action.
A beam of pure energy comes barreling at us, a vortex of blinding light.
Blood Drenched Conquest (Ryze Book 3) Page 38
