Chapter 39 Nyrith #2
Shane’s high-pitched cackle dragged on so long I wanted to punch him to shut him up. When he caught his breath, glancing around at each of us and our confused expressions, he chuckled. “Fate be damned. You don’t know, do you?”
“Know what?”
He looked at Ash. “She’s your Nyrith.”
“My Nyrith?” Ash glanced from Shane to me and back again. “How… do you know that? Why are you saying she’s my Nyrith?”
Shane’s eyes sparkled with glee. “Oh. No, Prince Cyriac. Raelynn, here, belongs to all four of you.”
Nyrith? Where do I know that name from?
They all looked at me when I sucked in a sharp breath and whispered the text I remembered. “Nyrith, my heart yearns for you. Nyrith, my soul needs you.”
Cyn released me, backing away as if I were contagious. Even with blackened voids for eyes, his brows lifted so high I knew something wasn’t right.
Ash approached me, his voice soft and seeking. “What did you say?”
I swallowed, looking from Cyn to an open-mouthed Zeke, then to Ash. I repeated the line the book instructed me to recite.
“I remember what the book said now—mostly,” I said, clasping my hand over my forearm as discomfort sank in my stomach under their scrutiny. “The Nyrith was to see me at peace. I was supposed to say those words to call the Nyrith.”
“Soul’s need and heart’s desire,” Zeke murmured.
“How do you know she’s our Nyrith?” Ezra stepped around Shane fully now, his back to us.
Shane raised his chin. “I don’t answer to you, Prince Kilnejar. If I even utter a word, I forfeit my life.”
“What is a Nyrith?” I looked between them again. “Can it send you home?”
I didn’t understand what was happening, but if this new information could help them escape Earth, I needed it to help them.
Ash slumped onto the edge of the chaise, his elbow digging into his knee. He buried his face in his hand. “I knew it.” He shuddered, his voice cracking with emotion. “I fucking knew it.”
Shane sidestepped Ezra, regarding me. “You know of Shyrlivi and lesser infernals, but not of Nyrith mates?”
“Mates?”
“Yes, mates,” he said, a smarmy smile spreading across his face again.
“For our kind, there exists one person, sometimes two, tied to our souls.” His tone changed, softening as if it meant something to him when he said, “When we find them, we know right away. Their smell, emotions… Connections that form beyond what you’d find with a partner if you both surrender to the pull. It’s magical.”
My mind raced with the things the guys told me about my perfume—the way I loved their scents and felt emotions not my own around them. I stared at Ash, who still hadn’t lifted his head, recalling what it felt like to be in his arms.
“You recognize it,” Shane said, glancing at Ash. “You’ve shared something with him, haven’t you?”
Ash’s glassy, pleading eyes met mine, causing Shane to scoff, his bitterness returning.
“So much makes sense now,” Zeke mumbled.
“She’s human,” Cyn said, breaking my concentration on Ash. “She’s not our fucking Nyrith. I’d know my mate. I wouldn’t hate my mate. I don’t accept this.”
My hand flew to my chest as a torrent of grief, anger, relief, and fear nearly brought me to my knees.
Ezra approached Ash, speaking in hushed tones.
“As long as you live, he won’t let me stay,” Shane muttered, eyes glazing over as if possessed.
Zeke frowned. “What are you talking about? He?”
I turned to hear what Zeke and Shane were saying.
Shane staggered a few steps, muttering unintelligible words, before he lifted his head, a deranged smile crossing his face. He lunged at me, a twisted black blade held high above his head.
Zeke yelled, “Rae!”
Before Shane even took two steps, Ezra pivoted and transformed with a surge of power that made my legs go weak.
Thick tendrils of black smoke poured from his arms, streaking over the floor and through the air like vipers pursuing prey.
Zeke came to my side and supported me by my elbows as the scene unfolded.
Shane had no time to react. The sinister darkness coiled around him, spiraling up his legs and wrapping around his torso, enclosing him in a writhing mass of smoke.
He screamed when the tendrils constricted, like they were inhaling him.
Eyes wide with terror met mine through a gap in the thick smog seconds before it consumed him and retreated to its master, leaving nothing behind.
Ezra’s glowing blue eyes, set against blackened sclera, met mine.
He remained silent, eyes fixed on me, a clear expectation in his gaze. He wanted to know what I thought of him—of what I’d witnessed. I don’t know how I knew that, but I did.
I took in his infernal form through the tattered remains of a dress shirt torn apart by his power and shadows.
Like Cyn, solid black consumed his hands and half of his arms, with black claws that could slice me open if he wanted.
His neck was blackened too. Smokey tendrils snaked across his collarbone and jawline, disappearing at his temples. The tendrils reminded me of the deadly smoke he released upon Shane.
It looked as if the shadow marks were attempting to devour him, too.
Cyn didn’t have those marks on his neck. I suspected the marks on Ezra’s chest and neck were unique.
His black horns reminded me of an antelope in their shape, but shorter and covered in ridges. They extended from his head and angled inward to sharp points. Near the base, another smaller spike protruded from the bottom, splitting off from the larger horn.
Zeke lowered his head and whispered in my ear, “Are you afraid of him?”
“Why would I be afraid of him? He saved me.”