He Who Is Born of the Blood of Gods #2
I scanned the wide, long hall ahead as I drew in a deep breath, searching for that sweet jasmine scent. I found it within seconds. A low snarl rumbled from my chest. Rising from the crouch, I moved again, letting my senses swell. I was close to the gods—close to the Primal.
Ascended swarmed from both sides of the hall, rushing toward me, their fangs bared and sharpened bloodstone clutched in their hands.
I had even less time for them.
My gaze flicked to the ceiling. Eather thrummed and expanded within me as my will took shape. Grabbing the head of the first Ascended to reach me, I snapped their neck as a low, grinding sound came from above.
The Ascended stopped in their tracks, heads jerking upward as the walls trembled.
“The roof!” one of them shouted, spinning around. “Ashwood, the sun!”
That name stopped me. My gaze shot to the Ascended who had yelled the warning.
A dark-haired female ran back into the chamber as wood splintered and nails shrieked, tearing free.
The roof was torn upward with a deafening crack, peeling back like it was nothing more than a can being opened as I tracked the female Ascended to a group of vamprys pressing themselves against the wall farthest from the Hall.
One male caught my eye. Tall, with hair as black as night and dressed in crimson silk and doeskin breeches, the expression on his pale face was haughty as fuck, even as he turned to run like the coward he was.
I was willing to bet that was Eldric Ashwood—someone I would make time for.
Because I was still petty like that.
Sunlight bathed the hall, igniting the Ascended as my eyes narrowed.
Lifting my hand, I helped Ashwood escape as flames roared with a whoosh, sending him through the paneled interior doors and into another chamber.
The air crackled as the fire spread, and screams rang out.
The ceiling lifted, sending shingles flying.
I moved past the panicked, chaotic Ascended as flames engulfed them, my steps slowing before the rounded entrance to the chamber with a still-intact roof. Kicking in the doors, I immediately found Ashwood.
In the center of the sitting room, amid shards of wood and broken furniture he must’ve crashed into, he staggered to his feet and turned to me.
He backed up, his black eyes widening, his mouth open to speak.
I didn’t give him a chance.
Moving faster than he could track, I was on him before he knew it, gripping his chin. “What was it you said about my claim in your silly missive? About my bloodline?”
He gripped my arm, clawing at the skin.
“I believe you said it was tainted.” I dug my fingers into the joints of his jaw, forcing his mouth open. “And I also believe you said something about those opposing the one true King and the Blood Crown falling.”
The cartilage along his jaw began to give way as he forced out, “You…will.”
“Hmm.” Cocking my head to the side, I reached inside his mouth, grabbed his tongue, and ripped it out. His muffled scream ended on a choked gurgle. “I don’t think so.”
I ended Ashwood, letting his body turn to ash as eather throbbed within me, responding to another.
I tilted my head, picking up the distant sound of shouting.
Shadowstepping into the smoke-filled hallway, I came face-to-face with a brown-skinned male god.
Blood trickled from the corner of his lips and his shoulder, where a wound smoked.
He wore crimson, and that was all I needed to see to know which side he was on.
The soon-to-be-dead one.
The male jerked back several steps, blue eyes with eather glowing behind the pupils widening as they swept over me. “What the—?”
I snapped forward, grabbing the god by the throat. “Where is she?”
Eather crackled over his knuckles as he returned the favor, wrapping his hand around my throat. “Who?”
Irritation flared, far more potent than the sting of his essence. Turning, I slammed the god into the wall. Plaster cracked. “Where is my Queen?”
Understanding flickered across his features as he glanced down at where his hand was against my flesh. His dark brows drew together as the essence burned my throat. “What…?” His eyes shot back to mine. “What are you?”
“Answer,” I growled, lifting him from the wall and then slamming him back against it, “my question.”
“Gone,” he spat, the pulse of eather flaring as his touch heated. “Likely dead by now.”
The knot of ice expanded in my chest.
Sliding my hand to his chin, I jerked his head back and struck, sinking my fangs into his vein.
The god shouted, kicked, and twisted as he tried to escape, but I held on.
I drank fast and hard, taking his essence into me.
His blows barely registered as I heard voices rising, shouting that they needed to leave, that there was nothing to be done here.
They became clearer, one of them standing out.
“Let me go!” a female voice seethed. “I will kill them all.”
“I don’t think that’s going to be necessary,” a male voice argued as the god’s fist banged against the side of my head.
Whatever else was said faded off as something like a hot poker struck my back. Eather. The pain rippled out in a scorching wave, something akin to touching a live wire.
Swallowing the last mouthful of blood, I pushed my essence through the god. The flesh beneath my hand shriveled and cracked, as fragile as a dry flower. The god shattered into dust as I lifted my head and was utterly no more by the time I faced the god behind me.
A bare-chested male stood before me, eather spinning down his arm.
“Where is she?” I demanded.
The god snarled, his arm rearing back.
Snapping forward, I drove my hand through the god’s chest, rending skin and crushing bone as I tore into his throat.
He roared, grabbing my hair. I drank greedily before ripping his heart free.
Crushing the useless organ in my hand, I then grabbed the side of his head and forced it through the wall, destroying the skull and what little was hidden inside it.
Another god appeared. Then another. I asked the same question to each. They all responded the same. So, they all died roughly the same. I fed. I killed, leaving a path of destruction behind me as I tracked the essence and her scent. They were all leading me to the same place.
And those voices, they were louder now.
“We need to go,” a male demanded, his voice tight with anger. “We need—where the fuck are you going?”
“I have to see this,” another voice—a deeper, raspier one—answered.
As I neared an intersection, flashes of silver lit up the hall. A god ran out, her long, blond hair streaming behind her like a white flag. She didn’t make it very far.
I arched a brow as an intense bolt of eather slammed into her back. The spitting, silver wave of light swallowed her whole. Nothing remained when the glow receded.
The Primal.
My lips curled up in a tight smile as I walked out into the space where the hall veered and turned right. The passageway was narrower and painted with destruction.
Blood sprayed the walls that still stood.
A good portion of the left side was missing large chunks, as if something large had punched through it.
Bodies and piles of ash were scattered about, some lying across the broken stone.
But one still stood. At the end, behind them, where only half of the wall remained intact, and a single door hung from a beam, creaking as it swayed in the wind, was a Great Hall bathed in muted sunlight.
I wanted to be in there.
Needed to get in there. Because that was where her scent was the strongest.
But the god before me stood in the way.
My attention shifted to her as I gave her a cursory glance. She was unremarkable, but she was different.
The god didn’t stumble back in shock upon seeing me. Her eyes didn’t widen. But those eyes… They were black and threaded with crimson essence as the realm split open behind her.
Death.
And her scent? It smelled like him: stale lilacs.
I prowled toward her, eather ramping up.
The god smirked as she stepped back. I shot forward, but she slipped through the opening. Icy fury pounded through my veins—
“Holy shit.”
My head shot toward the Great Hall. A god stood a few feet inside the chamber. I could see nothing of his features beyond the hood of the fitted black coat he wore, but he was old, and the essence in him was different. It didn’t carry the mark of death.
“Fuck my life,” another voice muttered—the one that had been demanding that they leave.
My gaze shifted behind the hooded god as he started backing up.
Two stood inside. I saw the female in white armor first. Tall and striking, with rich-brown skin and tightly braided hair, I knew immediately that she was the Primal I’d felt.
I didn’t even need to see the silver eyes to know I was right, but I did look, noticing the tears glistening against the eather lighting up the veins beneath those eyes.
My gaze flicked to the one who had an arm shoved out in front of her.
He was half a head taller, with auburn hair and golden eyes.
I eyed him, sensing something dark and shadowy in his essence, reminding me of when we stood outside of the City of the Gods, and Nyktos briefly made an appearance.
He wasn’t a Primal, but he was very, very old.
I quickly scanned the Hall—or what was left of it—as I walked forward. The domed ceiling was gone, several pillars supporting the alcove had been broken, and half the second level had collapsed to the main floor. Red was smeared along the cracked marble tiles.
“What are you?” the faceless god spoke as I stalked forward.
“Not really important,” the auburn-haired one bit out as the Primal stared, the god’s chest heaving behind the armor.
“Disagree,” the other replied, remaining rooted where he stood.