Chapter 15
Zyla
Drei mates will often consummate the mating with primal play, marking their other halves with either bite or claw marks. It’s considered rude to note these marks verbally.”
— KARI SILVENDALE, AUTHOR OF A HISTORY OF THE DREI
The cold water does the trick. My mind is clear as we re-enter the main chamber.
Kari’s chained to the wall above us, her red hair hanging limply around her face, Despair’s written all over her.
There are dozens of guards between us. Rhykus sits on a throne on the small cliff ledge near Kari, smiling as he sees us. Daring us to try and take her.
“It’s a trap,” Bael says. “The baron must have known who we are.”
Guards circle through the crowd nonchalantly, but there are too many of them.
I search desperately for a way out, my gaze sliding over a pair of men fucking, more of them wrestling, women kneeling in abasement, and—
My gaze jerks back.
There’s a woman bound to a spinning circle. Several hunters laugh as they watch her spin, standing by a bushel of arrows and a bow. One of them nocks his bow loosely. His friend sends the woman spinning as she screams.
“I have a theory,” I tell Bael.
“What?”
I draw the knife, the rose on the blade gleaming coldly. “Lean down.”
Bael frowns, but he complies. I run my fingers along the collar at his throat, the one that binds his powers.
“This blade was consecrated to Amara,” I whisper, finding the faintest of crevices in the torc. I jam the tip of the knife between it. The handle seems to throb in my hand. “I don’t think it’s just a knife, Bael.”
He glances at me through the spill of his hair.
“If I can get this off”—I feel something shifting—“then you can change forms. Get Kari and get her out of here.”
“What about you?”
The torc suddenly pops open, and I wrench the knife back before I stab him, gaping a little as the torc falls into my hand.
Bael stares at it. Then at the knife. “I’ll be damned.”
“Don’t worry about me.” I tilt my head toward Kari. “I’m going to kill Rhykus. Now you need to live up to your moniker. Destroy it, Bael. Destroy it all.”
He captures my head, hauling me toward him for a fierce kiss. Then he pushes me away, a demonic smile stretching across his face. “As you wish, my lioness. I’ll be waiting for you.”
Wings of shadow stretch across the room. Torches flicker and candles snuff. Laughter cuts off as the guests look around nervously, and the music trails to a halt.
I step back through the crowd, unable to take my eyes off him as smoke swirls around him. Bael tilts his face toward the ceiling, his body seeming to stretch. A monster emerges, tail lashing and wiping out a dining table laden with fine crystal and fruits.
The first scream rings out.
And Rhykus sits forward, his face paling.
“Run,” Bael thunders, the sound shaking the room as smoke pours from his nostrils.
A long serpentine neck appears, his dragon-like face sweeping through the smoke.
Every inch of him is lithe, light glittering blue-black over his scales.
His wings are enormous, and his tail swipes like a scythe and takes out a trio of hunters as he turns toward the cliff where Kari hangs.
Rhykus leaps to his feet, bellowing for archers. I see a pair of them fumbling with crossbows, and a chill runs down my spine.
For my hunter’s gaze has marked the softer underbelly of Bael’s body.
“Get out of my way!” I yell as I shove through the surging crowd.
The man with the bow is standing there gaping. He doesn’t see the true danger. I slit a line across his throat from ear to ear from behind, capturing the bow from suddenly lax fingers as his body crashes to the floor.
The first arrow feels like an old friend as I spin, drawing it tightly, the strings singing against my ear as I sight down the arrow.
“Kill her,” Rhykus commands, flicking his fingers toward me.
Clearly he’s realized that he can’t take Bael, not in his monstrous form. But I’m Bael’s weakness.
Crossbows turn toward me, but there’s nearly 90 feet between us and accuracy is on my side.
I unleash a bolt, turning and throwing myself into a roll as I snatch a second arrow. I’m up on my feet, the string singing as I draw again before the first arrow hits.
The first archer goes down, my second arrow arching toward the next one. A crossbow bolt slams into the wall behind me.
Rhykus gapes.
All my rage crystallizes as I focus on him, snatching up another arrow.
Not all the women here are brides. A lot of them have been trapped in this Labyrinth, trying to merely survive. I can’t save them all. But maybe, if I kill one slaver, I’ll save hundreds of future brides who don’t even know what fate has in store for them yet.
The arrow looses.
And my aim is true.
Rhykus jerks back, the feathers sinking chest-deep. I draw and loose again, driving another arrow straight through his groin. He screams, going down on one knee.
I’d like to see him suffer, just a little bit.
But who knows what magic the people here have. I can’t risk him surviving.
So I sink a final arrow through his throat.
Rhykus topples backward, dead before he hits the floor.
The world comes back into chaos around me, and I hear Kasaros’ laughter ringing through the cavern along with the screams. This is what he thrives upon.
Bael rears up, plucking Kari from her bonds. She’s screaming in horror, but he’s gentle as he turns and sinks back down onto all fours, settling her at his feet protectively.
I run toward them as he starts shrinking down, body melding back into a man. A very naked man.
“Zyla.” She bursts into tears when she sees me.
I throw myself into her arms, squeezing her tight. The ground starts to tremble beneath me. “You’re safe. I’ve got you. We’ve got you.”
“You came for me.”
“Always. Together we rise.” I squeeze her one last time, then brush the tears from her face.
“But we don’t have time to fall apart. We have to get out of here.
” Even the walls are shuddering now, crystal stalactites breaking from their lengths and plunging to the crystal floors.
They shatter into a million pieces. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Kasaros is going to rearrange the Labyrinth again. ”
And if we’re caught in here, then we’re dead.
“This way,” Bael says grimly, hauling on a pair of trousers he’s found from somewhere.
“No, wait!” Kari grabs me as I turn to go. “I overheard Rhykus talking to the baron. There’s a doorway down this tunnel that leads to the end of the maze! It’s a portal. They were going to take me through it the second they killed you both.”
The floors begin to shudder.
I exchange a look with Bael.
He nods grimly. “The baron has one somewhere here.”
“Let’s go then!” I drag Kari forward and we start sprinting toward the tunnel.
Above us, dozens of crystal spears suddenly plunge down, heading straight for us.
Bael slams into us both, driving us onto the floor. We slide into the tunnel, just as the stalactites shatter exactly where we were standing. A hunter coughs blood, impaled through the top of his head. Others crawl in bloody circles, crying and sobbing.
I have no sympathy for any of them.
“Let’s finish this,” Bael says grimly, hauling us to our feet.