Chapter 31 A Bitter Truth #2
He hit the wall with a sickening thud and slid to the floor, smoke curling from his skin.
His clothes, blackened and shredded, barely clung to him as angry red lines branched across his chest. The veins beneath his skin pulsed.
And for the first time since this nightmare began, the darkness seemed to fear its own host, slithering away from the scorched light that still glowed faintly through his wounds.
Aster’s body hit the ground with a sound that hollowed the air, his massive form motionless, blood pooling beneath him.
My stomach dropped, and I stumbled forward just as Bronte groaned, fighting with her trembling hands to reattach the guard to her eye.
I dropped beside her, my knees skidding against the cold concrete, my heart hammering in my chest.
“Bronte,” I whispered, reaching for her shoulder as she gasped, the last sparks of light flickering from her eye.
“Please, stay with me,” I said, taking the guard from her trembling hands with my own shaking ones.
Her palms and the guard were slick with her blood, and it slipped through my fingers twice before I managed to catch it.
My breath came quick, uneven. Pulling the front of my shirt out, I used it to wipe the blood away, clearing enough to get a grip.
“Quick, Alex. There’s too much to hold on to,” Bronte gritted out, her voice taut with pain. Her whole body had gone rigid, tendons standing out at her neck. Pushing her hands gently aside, I pressed the guard to her face.
“Keep it up, Bronte. I’d rather not end up as a crispy offering for the monsters, thank you.” I let out a shaky sigh, my nerves fraying as I fumbled.
“How does this thing even stay on?”
“Just push it. Hard.”
I hesitated, staring into the bloody ruin of her eye socket, then pressed down with both thumbs.
The sound was wet and squelching, a sickening reminder of how much pain she’d already endured.
The metallic guard sank through her skin with resistance until it finally slid into place against the muscle beneath.
To my shock, the skin began to knit around it, fusing slowly, as if her body had been waiting for its return.
When her eye opened again, it was fierce and bright, and she let out a ragged laugh.
“Good job,” she praised breathlessly and I laughed, though I had no idea why. It was either that or cry. I grabbed her shoulders and pulled her into a hug, squeezing her tight before pulling back.
“That’s going in the trauma file,” I said with a shaky grin.
She gave a short bark of laughter, but both of us turned sharply at the same time.
“Aster!”
We spun to see him lying on his side, propped up on one elbow like he was posing for a damn painting, his massive chest slick with blood. His minotaur form was gone, replaced by a very large, very human man.
“Thought I’d… let you two have… your moment,” he said, his voice rough but teasing as he pushed himself upright. Blood pooled beneath him, yet somehow, he was still steady, still breathing. We watched as the torn flesh of his chest began to pull together, knitting in thick ropes of scar tissue.
My jaw dropped, the disbelief written all over my face.
“How…?”
He smirked.
“Hey, girl, if the King saw you looking at me like that, he’d have my head.”
I snapped my mouth shut and shot him a glare. He held up both hands, grinning.
“You’re the one staring, not me.”
I rolled my eyes, forcing back a laugh that felt half hysterical, half relieved. Then the weight of the room hit me again, sharp and heavy, dragging me back into the moment. My gaze drifted to Riley, still motionless on the floor, his chest heaving with shallow breaths.
The air changed, colder now, filled with the faint crackle of residual lightning. My stomach twisted. The fight might have been over for us, but for Riley… something told me it was only just beginning.
At least he was still alive, though after what he had just put me and Aster through, I wasn’t sure if I wanted that. Yet it wasn’t his fault. Deep down, I knew it wasn’t Riley. It was something else, something using him like a puppet.
I found myself moving, getting closer to him as if some unseen forced was drawing me closer.
“Alex don’t,” Bronte warned, but I held my hand out to her, silently telling her it was okay.
I knelt next to his unconscious form, my hand reaching out, shaking with some unknown fear, yet being drawn to it all the same.
Then, I placed a hand over his scorched chest, intent on hearing a heartbeat when suddenly, a connection was made.
I threw my head back in a silent scream at the same time the scars on my body lit up with a blinding light of power.
Because it seemed I wasn’t just the key to unlocking the Rift, I was also the key to unlocking the truth.
A vision, so strong, hit me all at once.
The truth to it all and the biggest betrayal unraveled.
The horror of what was about to happen if I didn’t stop it, it all crashed through me, elements of a tragedy in the making.
And all because someone wanted to bring down an ancient royal blood line and claim it for himself. It was a deception born from hatred so deep, it manifested evil and gave it form.
And soon it would have what it wanted if I didn’t get there in time to stop it.
If I didn’t get there before Atlas…
Killed the wrong brother.
To be continued