I brace for impact, pushing Sol behind me.
Suddenly, Zex is there in front of us, taking the hit, his body phasing as he absorbs every ounce of power.
The approaching Erenceis, citizens and rebels alike, screech to a halt.
Zexistr solidifies, his body glowing—
In a single shot, he sends their own volley back at them, magnified by his powers of Existence.
I throw a Gnetica around me and Sol, using my body to cover her.
The light incinerates everything before us. When it clears, at least a thousand females and males are dead, their bodies completely destroyed, leaving only their shadows imprinted on the ground.
It does nothing to deter the next wave.
Zexistr turns, eyes enlarged, a hungry werewolf on the verge of changing.
I’ll kill him. So help me Illion because I’ll somehow destroy his son and send Zex back to the cosmos.
Throwing out his hand, he wills a secondary layer over the Gnetica I created.
One I know they won’t be able to get through.
We won’t be able to get out of it, either. Nothing gets in or out of Existence’s energy shields. Nothing.
And still the horde of demons approaches.
“You’re going to have to face them! They’ll back down to no one but the winner,” he shouts over the noise, waving his hand again.
The air shimmers and instinctively I know what he’s done.
I can now exit.
Soleria will be trapped in here. Safe.
Nodding at him, I somehow find the willpower to disentangle her away from me.
Her reaction is violent. Desperate. Eyes flashing, she comes back at me. “Ian! What are you doing? I need you.”
One hand around her jaw, I dematerialize my glove and hold her back. Running my thumb along her bottom lip, I hiss through the rush of hunger, watching with heavy-lidded eyes as she sucks the digit into her mouth.
I haven’t had a chance to be inside her like that, to feel her tongue along my dick.
Soon, I promise myself, very aware of the growing number of demons approaching the shield. They can’t smell Sol anymore but those first few minutes were more than enough. Each second that passes they become more mindless.
Soon, they’ll start throwing themselves at the shields. Killing them is the only option now. At least enough of them to override the survival instincts of any that remain.
They don’t want me mating with their queen, nor do they want me as king of this realm.
Looks like I’ll be taking it by force of will and spilt blood.
Just like Lilith once did in Hell.
Never thought I’d find myself taking a page out of her book.
“You’re about to regret waiting this long to chose me, Soleria,” I whisper softly, sliding my thumb out to run it along her glistening bottom lip.
Her baby blue-and-black eyes flash with droplets of churning red.
She’s about to command me to stay here.
To sate her in front of the other demons while they watch.
Hell fucking no.
Dematerializing away from her, I ignore how she shouts, “No!”, and appear outside the shield, facing the swarm of males. Females have jumped in from both sides, trying to subdue them. One black haired rebel slams the tip of her spear through a white haired male’s side and sends him spinning overhead.
Another leaps into the air, sleek thighs wrapping around yet another male’s head. A twist of her upper body, and they go spinning. I don’t see where they land and it doesn’t matter.
The female’s have chosen a side—that means stopping those males by subjugation or death.
I chose death.
One last look at a pained, infuriated Soleria, and I give into the werewolf inside me, letting the change come over me.
SOLERIA
He’s huge. Even larger than I remember. His snout is chest-level with many of the demons.
On all freaking fours.
The staples adjusted to his size, changing with him. They glow from behind his front legs, seeming as enraged as the werewolf they’re attached to.
And they can no longer help hide the immense mark gracing his life side, stark against his navy blue mane.
Dark red, white, and dark blue.
My mark.
A single leap and he disappears, moving faster than my newly immortal eyes can keep track of. I blink and out of nowhere I see one of the males near the shield jerk.
His upper body disconnects from his lower body, the two halves ravaged by enormous teeth.
My chest lurches, lips parted, even as a sickening awe sparks to life.
A howl rips my stare away from the bleeding out immortal—will that even be enough to finish him?—and I see what looks like five heads spinning into the air, the necks as savagely torn as the two halves of the demon I was staring at.
I lose track of Ianthen in the whirling mass of bodies, watching as one male after another falls either to him or the females fighting alongside him.
Some males are fighting as well, a much smaller percentage, and something tells me those are the mated males. The only ones immune to what’s coming out of my body.
A body that clenches, Ianthen’s taste saturating my tongue. There’s a rapidly expanding pool of blood at the edges of the Gnetica, demons dying everywhere—demons that want to rape me—and I can’t stop the pulsating ache in my groin.
It’s getting more powerful, to the point I feel it vibrating towards my feet.
There’s a short screech overhead, seconds before a male in red-and-black armor slams into the energy shield over my head, blood squirting from the front of his torn neck.
That armor . . . it’s one of my own. One of my people. I’ve only been a queen for two weeks, grew up among humans, yet a scream lodges in my throat at the sight.
Maybe it’s the recognition of that torn neck as the body slowly slides down the shield, blood trailing over its transparent surface as if it were made of glass. Ianthen killed one of my citizens. Maybe it’s the still-human part of me, the one molded by twenty-six years of human experience.
Maybe it’s how the voice of Conquest in me roars in triumph at the sight.
Or maybe it’s the fact that I’m still fucking horny as this senseless slaughter goes down, but as the pressure in my mind becomes too much, I have to momentarily close my eyes to stop myself from snapping.
“Soleria!”
Ismini. She’s outside the Gnetica, staring right at me.
Neither Ianthen or Zexistr bothered to hide me; those dicks only contained me.
“Just stay in there, okay?” Ismini screams over the roar of the battle.
Dimithinia lands behind Ismini on the tips of her booted feet. In her newly upgraded armor, she nods in my direction and I see her eyes flood with black.
Death.
No time to think on that, on what Conquest keeps claiming Dimi is.
She leaps past the front line of defense straight into the fray, no doubt in search of souls to consume.
“Soleria, you’re turning red! Answer me!”
I can feel the change coming over my skin, pure heat that radiates from within. Clutching my stomach, I inch back away from the shield. What seems like half a mile ahead, a line of bodies is collapsing faster than I can even blink, heads flying.
Ianthen.
He’s cutting a path straight through them, heading into the core of the fight.
“Sol!”
“Ismini, he’s killing them. He’s killing all of them and it’s my fault!” I turn back to her in time to see Dyletri sprinting behind her, nothing more than blue-and-silver armor and a white, glowing outline of his body.
A single, thick beam of light from his palm and at least thirty males are disintegrated into ashes, their dust outlines remaining for a split second before being blown away on the wind.
What the hell?
“Listen to me, he needs to win this. They all said it. Halamar made
it clear. You need to stay in there and make sure Ianthen wins this!”
I want to ask her why Halamar would suddenly side with Ianthen over this, but something shakes the dimension, the sudden quake piercing me straight through with fresh agony.
Oh God. No. That wasn’t a quake. That feeling came from inside me.
Gritting my teeth, I bite back a scream, hating this with every fiber of my being. Wave after wave of brutal arousal, too intense to be pleasurable, pumps through me, each one more powerful.
And I thought I could go hours like this? Days? Even longer?
Ismini screams something else at me, something I can’t make out beyond my thundering pulse. Then she’s gone, running to the front of the shield and slamming her bare hands on the ground.
Purple, cerulean, and white energy erupts, warping the ground, lifting it in a semi-solid wave.
The shouts of thousands of beings sound out as they’re lifted along with the floor beneath them, sending them barreling towards the walls.
They slam into it one after the other, some of them shooting out the open gate leading back outside.
I throw myself into the shield again, shouting. What the hell is Ismini doing? Ianthen was somewhere in there!
Don’t know if it’s that thought, or the next contraction that hits, but suddenly I’m dropping onto my knees, sensation in my legs gone.
My fingers claw into the dark red dirt. In front of me, the chaos is beyond anything I’ve ever imagined, more than I could ever comprehend. Electric fire has begun to spread over the battlefield, arching in flares up towards the sky.
Yes. They’re losing. They fall.
By that Conquest means the unmated males coming for me. Despite their numbers being larger, somehow they’re being overpowered.
A new round of reinforcements have arrived at the far edges of the battle, lumbering, hulking forms in black armor.
More demons?
It can’t be. I would’ve known about them by now. Halamar said there were only two types of war demons, the citizens and the rebels.
One by one, the new arrivals leap closer, and my immortal eyes finally pick up on the details of them.
Corpses?
Rotting corpses in black-and-silver battle armor.
Another quake, this time actually from within the ground, one that sends everyone once again scrambling.
No more than thirty-feet away, a fissure appears, growing wider, longer . . . bursting into a chasm, the soil giving way for six black, monstrous horses, silver currents of power trailing over their mane and exploding from their nostrils in angry puffs.
They fly up in an angle, dragging a huge black chariot.
Sitting inside it, one arm draped over the back of his seat?
The God of the Underworld in his matching black-and-silver armor, silver eyes narrowed on the fight stretching for miles before him.
A fresh round of corpses rushes out of the hole he left behind, mouths open in soundless battle cries.
I’ve never seen them before but Conquest knows what they are. Draugars.
Crius tilts his head like the king he is, surveying the fire spreading through the ranks, and a straight lock of black hair falls over his eyes. “I’m guessing a few of you forgot Renentr is inter-dimensional. You all belong to me in the end.”
His comment is answered by a howl.
Ianthen’s the only werewolf I saw jump into the fray. That had to have come from him.
Hungry for the sight of him, I strain to spot his large navy blue frame in the writhing sea of war. I’m so consumed with the desire to spot him that I don’t feel the next wave coming up on me.
Not until it’s too late.
My spine arches, air whooshing out of my lungs. Dazed, I watch my fingers curl deeper into the dirt, the red-and-black demon markings along my wrists flexing.
Panting, I shake my head on instinct, denying what’s about to happen.
Begging with my body not to do this . . .
I don’t realize the shrill scream I’m hearing is coming from me until another, more haunting sound echoes it.
Ianthen’s howl barreling closer, back in my direction.
Chapter 46
IANTHEN
T hat screech, a sound reminiscent of the banshees, pierces through the air, sending the battle into a stronger frenzy.
Sending me into one.
I face off with the scythe-wielding Erencei before me. My werewolf form was abandoned a while ago in favor of my regular body.
My godly form.
I want these motherfuckers to look me in the eye male-to-male as I end them for trying to take my R’ma.
Especially the lowlife before me.
“You’ll never be king. Even if you take her today, they’ll never bow to a fucking Hyren like you,” the demon spits, red-on-black eyes flashing beneath his straight, silver hair.
Ah, prejudice. Nice to see Earth isn’t the only realm still trapped in its hold.
I feel a slight tug at the corner of my lips, an involuntary smile at the idiocy of his comment. Materializing in front of him, I snap my gloved-hand around his neck.
With my other hand, I rip the scythe from him, sending it flying into the approaching demon behind me.
His grunt as the blade connects reaches my ears.
Smiling at the one in my grip, I deflect his hit and flick him to the floor.
His body slams several feet into the ground, dirt exploding in his path.
Summoning one of my short swords, I send it flying towards his neck, decapitating him in a single swipe.
Somewhere behind me, a female yells, “Stop this! We’re together!”
“We’re not mated.”
That response sends my blood pressure skyrocketing another dozen degrees, until the heat consuming me is nearly all I can feel.
I send my molecules dispersing in their direction, regaining form in time to swipe the female’s sword out of her hand.
The same sword she was hesitating using against her male.
Unfortunately, her ex-male.
I spin on one foot, slicing through the air in an arch. There’s a pop as I break the sound barrier—
Then the female’s desperate screams as her male falls to her feet, headless, his blood gushing in thick spurts around her boots.
Not her male. As he pointed out, they weren’t mated. One day, she’ll actually find the one for her.
And maybe one day I’ll feel more guilt at the sound of her heartbroken sobs.
At this moment, the only thing resonating in my head is the battle—the intent driving these males to attack their own in a frantic bid to get to the energy shield behind the walls.
The same intent pounding hard through my blood.
Cutting a path through the chaos, I wield my Karvite short swords with near-detached efficiency. Heads roll in my path, blood drenching the already dark-red sands and dirt.
Six-in-a-half-feet-tall black blurs race past the edges of my vision.
Draugars.
They’re either cutting through demons, or swooping down to harvest their souls and deliver them to their king.
Crius’ hell is getting new souls after eons of stagnation.
The Draugars aren’t the only ones; as I catapult into the air, aiming for another group of clashing demons, I spot a small figure off in the distance.
The ex-Queen of Ritrio, standing over a dead male’s body, her hand outstretched as she consumes his soul.
What the fuck?
I land amid the warring group, cutting down thirty of them within seconds, counting each kill in my head.
Yes, there is an entire group of beings fighting on my side, but the only way I’m going to win this in the eyes of this society is by raking in the most deaths.
After today, they’ll have no choice but to admit Sol is mine.
“Behind you!”
I duck at Dyletri’s warning, just as a beam of solar-hot energy flies by my head.
In a single
hit, it incinerates at least a hundred demons.
I’d heard the rumors from Brownsville, how he seemed to exhibit a whole new ability none of us recall him having before. Can’t even see the silver or blue in his aura among that blazing white.
I’m momentarily shocked at the glowing sight of him.
Until I remember the point of all this slaughter. “Slow the fuck down!” I shout back at him. “I need to rake in the most single-handed kills!”
“You’ve killed nearly fifteen-hundred of them by yourself!” comes his warped, echoing reply from inside that blazing light. “I’ve been counting!”
Well, then.
I flip the swords in my grasp, allowing the change to come over my eyes just enough to activate the grid. The world falls away into the familiar darkness, white outlines, and glowing auras of everyone around.
Just as I saw earlier, these males’ very souls are lit up with lust, the hunger reflecting in their writhing auras.
A beastly, unnatural growl leaves me, one among many. Simply knowing what their driving force for risking their lives is makes me insane.
I throw myself back into the fray, aiming for every vivid, unmated male aura I encounter. I don’t see their skin separating beneath my swords, their blood spilling, but I feel it landing hot all over my face.
My body.
Leaking in through the collar of my armor.
The cacophony of everything vanishes beneath the beat of my heart and I’m lost even more to this bloodlust. Deep in the grid of the powers of Hunt, it’s even easier to forget that these males have done nothing wrong.
That they’re as trapped by this biological imperative as I am.
It’s a much simpler reality, where they cease being living beings and become nothing more than obstacles to eliminate.
A squad of demons appear in a semi-circle around me. Apparently, it’s becoming clear to them that fighting each other will have to wait.
I’m the biggest threat to them. Removing me from the equation is the only way they’ll stand a chance.
Weapons unsheathe, blades cutting through the air.
I leap at them, even as the sensation of my skin parting shoots across my neck.
Fuck. I barely duck in time before the blade penetrates deeper and slices my head off. The pain of the gaping wound in the back of my neck snaps my vision out of the grid and back to the real world.
Blood Drenched Conquest (Ryze Book 3) Page 39
