Chapter 32 #3
But yet, my body didn’t seem to know that. I was afraid, my body sensed the akadim behind Rhyan, and yet, as dangerous as he was, his touches were igniting a fire inside of me. By the Gods, I didn’t want this to happen. But I couldn’t stop reacting.
I squeezed my eyes shut, and tugged again. And finally, finally, I felt my shoulders shift. They were sore and numb, but they moved away from the taut position they’d been forced into. My arms tingled as blood flowed freely through them, reaching out toward my fingertips.
“You want me, Lyr,” he said. “Admit it. I can smell it.”
“Not like this. Not when you’re akadim. It’s just my body reacting. It’s confused.”
“Are you sure it’s your body that’s confused?” he asked, his claws tangling in my hair. “I think it’s your mind. Not ready to accept this. To accept us. We can still be together, Lyr. We can be together for real this time. Forever.”
My mind flashed to Auriel, to his explanation of the Celestial Realms. An eternity together in these forms, even as we expanded, even as our souls continued to reincarnate, to live more lives, to fall in love again and again.
We’d wake up in new bodies, find ourselves with new faces, new names, but we’d always recognize each other, always feel our soul connection.
We’d always remain Rhyan and Lyr. Because we were Auriel and Asherah. Because we were mekarim.
Unless I couldn’t save him. Unless I couldn’t bring his soul back from the in-between and let him heal. But I wanted more. I wanted our life, this one. Mine and his.
“Rhyan—no! There’s another way.”
He laughed. “You’re lying. You want this. And you know how I know?” He traced his hand down my stomach to my waist. I snapped my feet together, and pushed my hips back, dodging his touch. “You’re wet for me. You always were.”
“Maybe I am,” I snapped. “But it’s not for you.
It will never be for you. My mind is not confused!
Because Rhyan—the Rhyan I know—would never do this to me.
Would never touch me when I said no. I know what you are.
And you are not him,” I growled, hiding the sound of another thread tearing, the rope loosening further.
He grabbed me, pulling me close, his hand reaching between my legs as he pushed me back against the wall.
Not knowing what else to do, I spat in his face.
He only grinned, and licked my spit with his tongue. “Mmmmm. I miss the taste of you.”
My heart began to pound so loudly in my ears it was all I could hear, a steady beating rhythm. I hissed, my fingers moving rapidly. Another thread in the rope had come loose and I had to make an effort to keep my shoulders back, to keep my arms still so he didn’t notice.
“You’ll put the others in a frenzy,” I pleaded, trying to find any sort of delay.
“You saw how they reacted already. How many more will you have to kill? It’ll delay your work.
Lessen the numbers of your soturi. Your power.
You won’t finish in time for Morgana to return.
” I pressed myself back, using the rough-hewn stone of the wall to my advantage, to further tear and weaken my ropes.
My fingers were getting scraped up, my arms. It didn’t matter.
Nothing mattered. I just had to get free.
“I’ll control them,” he said. “And the work will finish.” His eyes flashed, and he tongued his fangs, sharp and glistening.
“I’ll take you when I want, how I want. And I’ll make you scream like you’ve never screamed before.” His hand reached for my tunic, ready to tear it apart. Tear it off. It was the final straw. Rhyan knew—knew how much I hated this. How much it upset me, having my clothing torn, removed.
This was it. No more chances. I had to act now—or never.
I chanted under my breath.
“Ani petrova Rakashonim, me ka el lyrotz, dhame ra shukroya, aniam anam. Chayate me el ra shukroya. Ani petrova Rakashonim! ”
Heat exploded in my chest, my torso alight with fire as golden light streamed from my heart. My arms broke free, and I pushed him off me with such force, he stumbled back in shock.
“Arkturion,” yelled an akadim in concern. But several had already stopped working, watching me with violence in their eyes, and blood rushing to their dicks.
Rhyan’s eyes flashed, and I charged forward, punching him in the face.
He stumbled back, and another akadim yelled for his attention.
“Arkturion, there’s a problem outside.” A problem? Auriel!
“Deal with it,” Rhyan roared, rushing back to me.
I shifted again trying to get to the shard.
But he was too tall, the sword too out of reach.
I ran back, urging him to chase me, and then I reversed course, leaping into his arms, and reaching over his shoulder, withdrawing the blade.
It was glowing bright and red. I held it up, I just needed to position it.
Get it into his heart. Nowhere else. I couldn’t miss. I couldn’t miss. Or I could kill him.
But he was holding me too tight, and suddenly he was running, out of the mines and into the next room where he slammed me against a rock.
The air wheezed out of my lungs and I let go of the sword, hearing it clatter to the ground.
He kicked it behind him and it slid several feet out of reach. No!
“Fine,” he said. “I was going to be gentle. But not anymore.” He opened his mouth, his fangs out, and he bit down on my neck.
“NO!”
Rhyan was a force to be reckoned with when alive. As an akadim he was unstoppable, even with Asherah’s strength.
All I could do was push my hand out, begging him to stop. My palm settled against his leather armor—right over his heart.
And suddenly, Rhyan stumbled back, releasing me. He looked stunned. Confused.
My heart shattered. His eyes. His eyes were no longer red. They were green.
He blinked, looking startled and lost. “Lyr?” he asked. And his voice. Gods. His voice. It was his! His voice. Soft and alive, and warm, and lilted.
“R-Rhyan?” I asked.
Then he blinked, and the green was gone, and so was the warmth and any semblance of humanity. The akadim had returned. The void. He looked bewildered, like he knew he’d lost a moment he couldn’t account for.
“What the hell? How did you—?” But he paused and shook his head, suddenly aware of the sword on the ground.
I ran for it, but he was faster, scooping it up, and flexing his arm before pointing the blade at me and charging.
His arm shot out and he grabbed me as I was running away.
With a grunt, I kicked out my foot, and tripped him, but we toppled together to the ground.
Rhyan landed on top of me, flipping me onto my back.
He gnashed his teeth in my face. “That wasn’t very nice. ”
“Well, I lost my manners,” I gritted.
His claws dug into my arm, cutting me open—right where I’d been injured on the beach.
I screamed, and managed to knee him in the groin.
He winced, pausing just long enough for me to escape. This time I didn’t hesitate. I ran. I had no weapons, just my strength. But I was unbound, and I had two arms, and two legs, and the stamina to run, and the energy to punch and kick at any akadim that got in my way.
Almost immediately, one got in front of me, and a second later, my fist was in his face, and the path was clear.
I could hear Rhyan screaming my name from behind. He was gaining on me. But he was also helping me escape by demanding everyone back off, and not touch me.
I pumped my arms at my side, urging my feet to run faster and faster, until I was past the carts and the rocks. I was back on the path that led to the tunnel that would take me up to the cliff, and back to the bridge.
“Lyr!” Rhyan roared.
But I wasn’t stopping. I only ran faster on the incline, practically flying to the top of the mountain. And akadim stood there, waiting for me.
I didn’t slow—I shoved him aside, and he slipped over the edge, catching the rock with his claws.
Then I kept going. Racing past another, before being grabbed from behind as an akadim leapt out of the shadows. He lifted me up, his claws around my waist as I kicked, suddenly finding my feet dangling over the edge.
“Put me down!” I screamed.
“I’ll put you down—all the w—”
His words were cut off by the sound of a sword singing, and the wet slap of blood against stone, and the thud of a head hitting the ground.
His arms loosened and I started to fall, but a large hand gripped me, claws wrapped around my neck, as I was dragged off the ledge, the headless akadim’s body falling and falling.
“I said, don’t run from akadim. It excites them,” Rhyan sneered.
I waited until he had us turned, both of our bodies firmly away from the ledge and then I reached for his claws, and tore his finger back as my legs lifted and kicked him square in the chest.
He released me, and I slammed to the ground on my ass, but quickly scrambled to my feet, using the half second I’d surprised him to sprint. I ran across the stone bridge, and then finally, I made it to the top.
“Damnit,” he yelled. I was coming to the edge of the cliff, to the rope bridge.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. I had no choice. I started running, holding onto the railings, my stomach dropping with every sway.
I slowed down in the middle, conscious of where the floorboards had gone missing.
And then I felt the bridge dip low behind me, all of the ropes shaking.
Rhyan. My heart was in my throat, but I kept my eyes ahead, focused on the other side.
Another step loosened and fell just as I reached the cliff.
And suddenly, Rhyan screamed.
I turned back, my heart stopping. His foot had fallen through the bottom. The step that had just dislodged.
One entire leg was dangling precariously off the bridge, while he balanced the other on one remaining step, his knee bent awkwardly, his claws hanging onto the roped railing. He wasn’t able to pull himself up—the rope didn’t provide enough leverage or support.
I backed up against the wall, my heart shredding into pieces.