Rift

by D. Fischer

  The way he’s looking at her - the expression of a steaming meal in front of a starving man - escalates my protective instincts to the woman I love.

  “You come to my realm, creature of dark, and ask for the protection of another?” Dark eyes shift back to mine, threatening, slow, the look of a predator. Two can play that game.

  I smirk, wicked. “This isn’t your realm.”

  Along the square of his sharp jaw, muscles ripple in agitation. Internally, my demon soul raises a fist in triumph though my conscience screams to be cautious in my choice of words.

  “These are my waters, demon,” he counters, lifting his top lip in sneer. He angles the tip of his arrow at my chest with brilliant, formidable speed. It doesn’t come in contact with my body, but it does hover a few inches from it, a promised threat. It’s not his fault he doesn’t know who he is dealing with. Maybe I should show him.

  Fear spikes around Eliza’s form, knocking me back to the present and restoring my main goal with the delicious taste. I whip the idea of a challenge from my mind and focus with much effort.

  Quieting my voice, my tone asks for forgiveness without a cowering lilt. “And this is the one I love. She needs protection from me, my kind, and those who wish to see her dead.”

  If nothing else, this shocks the elf. He takes a step back as though he’s been physically shoved, and astonishment glitters in his eyes. Demons can’t love - they’re not supposed to.

  “And here I thought she was your hostage,” he whispers, watching Eliza with a renewed look of adoration.

  “Hardly,” I snort at the same moment the creatures pulling the boat slap against the surface of the water. Their long tails flick, agitated at the standstill. I don’t believe I could control Eliza even if I wanted to.

  The elf holding Eliza grips his fingers tighter around her shoulder. I growl at him, visibly baring my teeth and allowing a flicker of lava to swell in my eyes. “If you don’t get your hands off her, I’ll consume your every emotion and leave an empty husk for your tribe to bury.”

  Wide-eyed to the blatant threat, the elf shifts his full attention back to me, and I give him a small taste of what I can do. My lips firm and my stare hardens, shoulders pulled back despite the strength of my own captors’ grips. By the twist of expression, my eyes are brilliantly molting. I leech some of his fear, sucking it into myself with only a thought and a sliver of will. The elf gasps and drops his hands as though Eliza were too hot for his touch.

  The boat, the atmosphere, hushes. The water lapping once more and spilling over the edges is the only sound.

  “Peplato,” the giant elf muses.

  I immediately stop drinking the emotion from his minion. Love, he had said, reminding me of my purpose.

  I turn to him and shirk the elves holding my arms. They drop their grips willingly after the elf in charge nods to them in approval.

  “Yes,” I say simply. “I love her.”

  “Impossible,” he spits. “A demon cannot love.”

  I laugh, the sound from deep within my chest, and then straighten my shirt as if the action is evidence to my point. “Not for this demon.”

  He stares at me, and his lips become shrewd once again. “What is your true name?”

  Licking my bottom lip, I consider if I should answer his question. A demon should never give his true name. It is power, I was told, but my goal here isn’t to gain power. It’s to gain protection for Eliza while I go back to my realm and deliver my revenge. She must be safe, and if that means putting myself in danger, then so be it.

  “Thrice Born.” Gasps emit from the other elves surrounding us. I chuckle darkly. “So, you’ve heard of me?”

  The elf sucks in his top lip and considers his next answer. “They gossip - the pyrens - and carry tales quite often to our realm.”

  “You know what I am then,” I mumble, dipping my chin. No soul has been taken from the void except me.

  “We do.” He nods once and smacks his lips as though the very thought of how I was made sours his taste. “But rumors are just rumors, and a demon, no matter the miraculous form, cannot be trusted.” He flicks his spear to his elf minions in an obvious command, and they swarm once more like bees after their nest has been promptly poked. “Feed them to the calimates.”

  They pick up Eliza around the waist, and she screams and flails, rocking the boat. Their strides are long and determined, and they hoist her in the air at the ledge. Even with all the power she has inside her, she won’t be able to control it enough to protect herself from the creatures pulling this boat. Despite their repurpose, they’re predators, the jaws of this river.

  “No!” I yell, hand outstretched.

  With my next inhale, I cripple the boat’s residents by pulling their souls to me, tethered to their emotions, just as I did with the scraggly demon escort of my realm. It’s all too easy, my power closer to the surface than I had originally thought.

  It’s a glorious feeling to have so many lives I could snuff with a single thought. I hadn’t planned on playing my trump card, but I’ll be damned if Eliza dies.

  Grunts and groans are my reward, and the weakest elves among the boat’s residents fall to their knees, swiftly overcome. I’m quickly rewarded for my efforts as I press on. Those who hold Eliza above the water stagger back and drop her to her feet, clutching their chests. A smoky trail exits through the dip of their joined collarbones, arching before descending into my pores.

  I spread my arms, prepared to take more, but the boat sways. More bodies appear as they step through a glowing circle of light. I fix to inhale again, this time to take on the new reinforcements without a second thought as to who they are.

  “Enough!” A small woman, a fee, I realize, blasts a yellow light to all those on the boat.

  I stagger at the force of her power, close my fingers into fists, and pin my eyes to the fee. She’s accompanied by an angel with black wings and another elf tattooed in brown, almost black stripes.

  It’s mere seconds later, when I sweep my gaze across my captors, that I realize their bodies are stiff, unable to move as though each of their muscles has been cemented under their flesh.

  Eliza darts to me, curls her arms around my bicep, and presses her cheek to my skin.

  DYSON COLEMAN

  GUARDIAN REALM

  Erma and the two creatures, named Jaemes and Tember, disappear into the fee’s bright lights. Their scowls speak volumes. No one should be allowed on the realm without permission. There is possible danger here, and I mentally prepare for it. If Jaemes’ grip on his arrow, pulled from a quiver slung on his back, and Tember’s calling of her magical bow called Ire are anything to go by, they’re expecting trouble.

  For several moments I stare, transfixed, at where they had once stood. I’ve barely been awake, and already, I feel the weight of exhaustion. It’s still so new to me, this exhaustion. On the Death Realm as a shade, we never slept. Time is broken there. Or perhaps time is always broken, and we only try to control it.

  The whack to wood breaks me from my fixation. I exhale slowly and turn. Not far from where I stand, logs are being chopped into quarters by a female elf. Her children run, crazed and giggling, along the nearby path. Next to her, the dead, blubbery animal Jaemes had brought back is being peeled of its leathery skin like a ripe banana. It hangs upside down by a rope stained with past kills. Blood pours from its body with each rip of flesh and muscle, and hot iron taints the wind, rolling my stomach.

  As a wolf shifter, I’ve heard the sound many times, mostly by the shredding of my own teeth, but somehow, this feels different. I’ve never been a fan of hunting, though the elves do it without sport. They hunt to survive and feed the many because it’s the only way to eat in a frozen land. But with such a public display to a slaying, I start to sympathize with their food source even if it feels normal for them.

  Every part of me hums as I turn, yet again, and look to the barren forest where my heart begs to explore as that creature once did. My wolf, eager f
or the same, urges me to seek out Kat as well. She has yet to return, and I’m beginning to worry. What is she doing out there?

  Evo’s hand squeezes my shoulder, and I jump. I had forgotten I am flanked by my pack, completely lost in my own thoughts. “She’ll come back, Dyson.”

  “Are you sure about that?” Kenna mumbles, and an oof quickly follows. “What was that for?” she growls in a whisper.

  “Do you want his wolf to rip through this village?” Flint says, angry, much unlike his normal demeanor.

  Kenna’s quiet for a moment while I watch the branches sway in a breeze and the snowflakes that play across the landscape. This realm is beautiful, a white wonderland. The trees and smells are unlike any I’ve ever encountered and I drink it in, collecting the aroma and stuffing it in a pocket of my sensory’s memory.

  “Probably wouldn’t be a bad thing,” Kenna mumbles. “These elves’ horns could poke someone’s eye out. He’d be doing everyone a favor.” Another oof follows. “I am your Alpha Queen, Flint. Slap my stomach again, and you’ll pull back a bloody stump.”

  “Would you knock it off?” Flint snarls, rising to the challenge and feeling the need to protect me. He’s just gotten me back and knows what my wolf is going through. After all, he went through something similar with his own mate. He knows my wolf is riding me hard. Even now, I can feel his temperament rising, the claws of his paws raking my insides. It’s taking everything I have not to hunt her down and sling her over my shoulders like a barbaric caveman.

  Evo squeezes again. “Ignore her, Flint. Kenna will make her own bed.”

  I hear her gasp, her fists thump against her hips, and the abrupt swish of her coat. “Are you telling me you’d let these elves spin me over a fire?”

  Brenna chuckles in front of me, seated on a log and heating her hands over the orange embers. She pulls her hands away from the warmth and brushes snow off a neighboring log. “Kenna, why don’t you come sit by me.”

  Grumbling under her breath, she does as the Beta Female asks, grabbing the sandman’s stick along the way and stoking the fire. The sandman had departed minutes before, abandoning his acquired stick in favor of leaving the present hostility behind.

  “What do I do, Evo?” I ask in a mumble while stuffing my hands in the pockets of my heavy coat. The pack had brought it for me, had even kept my things. It stung as much as it touched me to be reminded of everything I’ve lost. That kind of simple life is no longer for me. Instead, I’m tangled in a web even I can’t grasp.

  Flint rakes a hand through his hair and stands at my other side, peering into the forest with me.

  “There’s nothing you can do,” Erline says, quietly observing by the teepee. She’d been so quiet in her approach that Kenna startles and openly growls at the fee.

  “What do you mean?” Evo roughly inquires, sliding his hand from my shoulder in favor of crossing his arms. Like his mate, he’s not a fan of Mother Nature either.

  “That’s his mate,” he adds.

  She looks only to me, her dark eyes peering into my borrowed soul. Perhaps she, too, isn’t a fan of the Alpha pair. “A darkness consumes her. The choice is hers if she decides to stay there.”

  My eyes flutter shut. I had felt that at the Colosseum, but at the time, I had thought it only bloodlust.

  “A mate should be able to cure that,” Flint chimes in.

  She nods, and takes a step toward me, closing the distance. Lifting a delicate hand, she grabs my chin and forces me to meet her eyes. “Remember? You are tied to her in more ways than one.”

  Mine, my wolf growls.

  “You all seem to be linked to the witch,” Flint observes.

  “We are,” Erline mumbles, peering into the forest. “In a way.”

  “So what do I do?” I ask, tired of the petty chit-chat. I want my mate, and I want her to see me and what she is to me. But how do I reach her in a place she’s buried herself?

  “Be patient,” she cautions. “Do not force it.”

  “Woo her, man.” Flint slaps my shoulder, jarring the joint. His jokester attitude is once again at the forefront. I’ve missed it, and my heart sings if but for a moment. I turn a half grin toward him, and he shakes my top frame, returning the smile.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll help,” he adds, bending his head closer to mine for a quick lesson on romantic topics I’ve never cared of learning.

  CHAPTER TEN

  ELIZA PLAATS

  GUARDIAN REALM

  I remember the day I first saw Aiden. It was the dream before my first death, and the fog had swirled around his breathtaking transparent form. Those steel eyes pierced my soul and reached me on a level I’d never been touched. This was back when things were simpler, with a scalpel in hand and dreams of a man I couldn’t have, for he was a ghost.

  In that clearing, he had been standoffish yet innocent. He was caring and full of love waiting to be freely given. He was Aiden. And most importantly, he was mine.

  The scorching kisses he had fluttered against my lips said everything he didn’t know how to say. It was an ease no stranger possessed, as though he’d been waiting for me his entire life and then some. And me? I had been waiting for him, too.

  This is not what I see now. He is not the same man. That Aiden had died twice and will never return. It makes me second guess if I can love the man I see now.

  Beneath the contact of our skin, I feel a demon, pure evil, evident with molten eyes. But deep within, tucked in a dark corner, is the man my heart twisted and twined with until we became one. I don’t think I could ever love him differently, no matter what he becomes.

  He brought me here to save me, he had said. From what, I don’t fully understand. Kheelan isn’t here to take me away. I’m safe when I’m with Aiden. Surely, he knows that. So why is he asking these creatures to watch over me? Why can’t he do it himself?

  And then it hits me. He doesn’t plan to stay. He’s going to abandon me. Again.

  Aiden glares at the small red-head holding her glowing hands in the air, possessing a power just as great as Kheelan’s. I can taste it, a creamy sensation across my tongue. It begs me to call my own, to match its challenge, but I won’t. Aiden brought us here for a reason, and I’d bet it wasn’t to challenge the fee of this odd realm.

  Though my grip around Aiden’s bicep says otherwise, I fear his power more than I do the fee’s. I can see it; a smoky hue pulling from their chest and being absorbed into his own. He’s feeding from these frozen creatures, and there is nothing they can do about it from their current state.

  “Who are you?” the woman asks Aiden, her voice musically venomous. “Why are you here?”

  When Aiden doesn’t answer, she drops her hands, and the glow goes with it, freeing the elves. His mind is occupied by a plan carefully forming if the tick of his jaw is anything to go by. This new turn of events isn’t something Aiden banked on; that much is clear. Perhaps he’s choosing his next words wisely.

  The creature with brown stripes steps forward, away from the fee, and steals the spotlight. The elves, huffing and puffing from Aiden’s assault, bow to one knee, using their spears to anchor their balance and the teetering of the boat.

  “He was in the Death Realm’s battle,” the darkly-striped elf says. “They both were.”

  Aiden straightens from his defensive hunch, recognition crossing his features, and fully faces the three, ignoring our captors. He doesn’t fear her, and a niggling feeling inside tells me what I need to know. She’s an asset to our plans.

  “Erma,” he says as though he’s recognizing her for what she is.

  Erma looks to the elf speaking, ignoring Aiden. “Jaemes? Are you sure?” She swivels back to Aiden and me. “Is this true?”

  Aiden inclines his head in confirmation. Though these elves are completely intent on our demise, Erma is the one who can halt such an assault if she sees fit. But first she must see us as innocent, and right now, we don’t exactly scream helpless. At least, Aiden doesn’t.

  E
rma strides briskly to us, and I grip Aiden’s arm tighter. His muscles ripple against my palm as he attempts to hide his bristle to her closeness. She narrows her eyes when she’s directly in front of us, scrutinizing, and sniffs a whiff.

  The tiny fee’s eyes widen. “You’ve been pulled from the void.”

  “I have,” Aiden rumbles.

  Erma shakes her head. “That’s impossible,” she quietly declares in palpable anger.

  Aiden crosses his arms, and his next words are a hiss of disgust. “Not for the ruler of demons.”

  His anger toward Corbin causes me to shiver. Until now, I haven’t been entirely sure where his allegiances lay. I know he’ll never harm me, but I haven’t been sure if he is leaving me here to return and do the bidding of his creator. It is what he was made for, after all.

  She huffs. “You detest Corbin.”

  “With every fiber of my being.”

  The angel’s eyes prick my forehead. I’ve felt her gaze on me the entire time but have chosen to ignore it and let her study me instead. If she can see I mean no harm, then perhaps her protective instincts will rise in my need of it.

  “You,” the angel says, pointing. “What are you?”

  Erma turns her eyes to me, a whip-like movement. “I know who she is.”

  Taken aback, I hide my shock by clearing my throat. Under the attention of this fee, my mouth is as dry as if I had swallowed a handful of sand.

  Aiden lifts a hand and closes my fingers tighter around his skin. It’s a calming gesture, wordlessly telling me he has every intention of protecting me, no matter how this turns out.

  “Well?” Jaemes scowls, impatient. “Spit it out then.”

  I double blink. I’ve never heard a creature talk to a fee in such a way. Doing so in the Death Realm would be a sentence to the void. Perhaps things are much different here, and Erma trusts the beings she creates. I can’t tell if that’s a smart move or an ignorant one.

  I decide to speak for myself. “My name is Eliza-,” I begin, carefully keeping my emotions from my voice.