Chapter 32 #4
There was a groan deep in the mines below, and another shudder of the cave, and Rhyan’s step gave out.
He fell, his entire body dangling from the bridge. He was holding on to the ropes, and nothing else. His body was so heavy, and he was so twisted up in them, he’d never pull himself free in time to catch me. I’d be free. I’d find Auriel.
If I ran.
But if he fell to the mines, that would be it. He’d die. Die in his akadim form. Rhyan would never come back to me.
He might kill me if I went back for him. The bridge was already so unstable on its own, I was likely to fall.
And yet, none of that seemed to matter as I found myself running toward him, leaping over the missing floorboards until I reached him.
He looked up, and his eyes were red and soulless, but they were scared, and something inside of them still felt like Rhyan. I widened my stance, one hand braced on the railing, the whole structure shaking and swaying.
“Take my hand!” I yelled, reaching for him.
“What?” he asked. Like he didn’t realize we were in the middle of a truce.
“I’m not letting you fall,” I cried. “Now take my hand!”
He reached for me, and I pulled, my muscles straining against my injuries. But with a burst of energy, I tugged him toward me as my breath came in quick, painful spurts. He was so Godsdamned heavy, and with the unsteadiness of the bridge, I couldn’t find my balance.
“Come on,” I yelled, my hands sweating. The bridge swayed again and I tightened my grip, pulling with one last show of strength, using everything I had.
And then he was back on the bridge, landing on his belly before rising to his feet, one hand, large and clawed, tucked in mine.
Our eyes locked. The walls shuddered. And with our hands still linked, we ran to the ledge.
I slammed against the stone wall as far from the cliff’s edge as I could manage, about to catch my breath, only to realize Rhyan was reaching for my neck, his eyes glowing.
“I knew you were mine,” he growled.
But I pushed him back again, careful it was away from the cliff’s edge.
He stumbled and I spun on my heels. I raced for the tunnel, running as fast as I could, my feet flying.
I didn’t stop to look back, or try to make a plan, or fight.
I just had to get out— get away. So I kept running, and running.
Rhyan caught up fast—as expected. He was on my heels, close enough to breathe down my neck.
I bore down into the reserves of the power I had left from Asherah, and I sprinted, my speed doubling—the way I’d been trained to at the end of our morning runs.
I could hear the sounds of a fight up ahead, a scream of pain and then, the most glorious and welcome sight in the world.
Auriel. His golden armor shining as bright as the curls on his head. And behind him, illuminating his body in the gold of a God was the sun.
He held a sword in each hand, half a dozen akadim surrounding him, another half dozen laid out on the floor. His face had twisted with the fury of battle. But his eyes found mine immediately.
“Lyr!” he yelled.
I gasped, so relieved that I stumbled, tripping over a rock. I slammed down onto my hands and knees. Rhyan threw himself on top of me, crushing me.
“Get off her,” Auriel yelled. And without warning, he’d barreled into Rhyan, grabbing his shoulders and throwing him back.
“Come on,” Auriel said, reaching for my hands. I gripped him, terrified of letting go as he brought me back to my feet.
Then his eyes flashed with green as they eyed akadim Rhyan, and I could see the moment he realized that my sword was on his back.
“The shard,” he said, his voice panicked.
But I shook my head. There was no time. More akadim were already coming down the tunnel, rushing to defend their Arkturion—and hungry to attack me. And I was out of weapons. Auriel had gotten this far—but he couldn’t take on all of these akadim alone.
The fight was leaving me … I was starting to weaken. I stumbled, and Auriel caught my arm, holding me up.
“Rakashonim,” I spluttered. “Running out. Need to go. Now!” Before I fainted. Before I fell over and lost myself to my injuries.
Auriel’s nostrils flared, torn between me and the shard, but he lifted me into his arms, and then we ran out into the light, and didn’t stop running until we were back at the inn, back in the room, the doors locked and barricaded.
Rhyan and the other akadim had stopped giving chase at the edge of the Wall of the Prince—perhaps under some order by Morgana not to reveal themselves in the town.
But we weren’t taking any chances.
“Fuck,” Auriel said, sitting me on the bed. “By the realms.” He pulled back my hair, taking in my slashed-up tunic, the cuts on my arms, and the bruises everywhere else. “What did he do to you?”
I shook my head and burst into tears, feeling Asherah’s power—my Rakashonim—running out at last. The effects of my injuries were now exploding across my body.
But worse, worse was the realization of what had just happened. What Rhyan had been like.
I couldn’t answer Auriel. Couldn’t bear to say it out loud. To make it a reality, to admit what the akadim version of Rhyan had been like, had done to me.
“It’s okay,” Auriel murmured. “It’s okay. I’m here now. We’re going to take care of this. You’re going to be all right.” I met his eyes, my vision blurred by my tears.
“Lyr, I’ve got you,” he said, his voice so soft, so quiet. So like something Rhyan would say. I looked away, trying not to think about the pain. Trying not to think about anything.
Auriel worked quickly, cleaning my wounds, slapping sunleaves over my cuts and scrapes. He eased me out of my ruined tunic, leaving me in my short-pants and breast bindings. But he found a fresh shirt for me to wear and slid it over my head and arms. Before long, I was covered in bandages.
Except for my neck. He placed the final bandage there, leaning in close, my body shaking.
I’d been trying so hard to hold it in. To be strong.
To fight what I’d seen; what had happened.
And how again, I’d failed. I’d lost my weapons, and every chance I’d had with the red shard, I’d been unable to take it.
The moment Auriel sat back, the dam burst and I let out a sob.
“Lyriana,” he said, pushing my hair out of my face. “You’re going to be okay. These injuries are nothing next to what I’ve seen on you.”
I shook my head. “It’s not that. It’s everything else.” I looked down, staring at my hand. “It’s the way he was.” My voice came out as a whisper.
“He wasn’t himself,” Auriel said firmly. “That wasn’t him. That wasn’t Rhyan. Rhyan loves you. He would never ever hurt you. You have to remember that.”
“I know, I know, but …” But he did. And it wasn’t him. Not his body, not his soul, and yet … it still felt like he had. Hurt like he had.
“Shhh,” Auriel said. “It’s okay, Lyriana. It’s going to be okay.”
“He was so cruel, and mean,” the confession started pouring out of me, “and … I know it wasn’t him, but the things he said, the way he acted … he has Rhyan’s memories and he was using them against me. Taunting me, reminding me. And …” And my Godsdamned fucking body betrayed me.
He’d even done the worst thing he could—ripping off my clothing.
Rhyan knew better than anyone how that affected me after Vrukshire.
Rhyan had been the only one I trusted to touch my clothes after that.
And even when he was cutting my tunic open, my body still acted like it was him, like it was okay.
Auriel brushed a tear from my cheek, and pressed his forehead against mine.
“It wasn’t him,” he said. “It wasn’t. Just a void, a shell of what he once was.”
“It doesn’t make it any easier.”
“I know. It’s okay. Any reaction you have to him is okay.
Lyriana, he knows how to hurt you, the evil of the akadim means that he knows things he shouldn’t.
He has access to Rhyan’s memories. But that’s not him.
It’s a demon, an akadim animating his body without a soul.
You hear me?” he asked, drawing his fingers across my hand.
“The closest thing to Rhyan isn’t that monster.
What you just saw, what you just experienced is the farthest thing.
Rhyan is good— Rhyan is his soul. His ka.
And that’s not what you faced back there.
The closest thing you have to Rhyan right now is right here in front of you, Meka.
Not that body, not that monster. Me. I am his soul. ”
I exhaled sharply, my eyes meeting his in a way that they never had before. Not in this life. I became acutely aware that our foreheads were still touching.
My breath caught, and Auriel froze, his body still as a statue, barely moving except for his hand around mine.
His fingers made soothing strokes across my skin.
Warm, comforting. Alive. The gesture was so familiar, so like Rhyan.
Memories of Auriel ran through my mind. Memories of loving him as Asherah, and of feeling that love now as Lyriana.
Of knowing I’d fallen in love with him again through Rhyan.
Because he was Rhyan. And that love I’d felt for him, my mekarim, was thrumming through my veins, pulsing through my heart.
I leaned forward, just an inch, my lips humming from how near they were to his. I could smell him, the musk that clung to him from battle. And yet, perhaps because he was a God, there was a sweetness underlying it. A scent I wanted to bathe in.
I tilted my head, our lips nearly brushing together.
“Lyr,” he breathed, his chin lifting, and that was all it took.
The distance closed between us, and my lips pressed against his. Something ancient and powerful seemed to zap through me, pushing out the pain, pushing out the hurt, the scars left by the Rhyan I’d just faced.
Auriel stilled, my lips tingling just from the barest touch. “Lyriana,” he said again, his chest heaving. “What—What are you—?”
Our eyes met, our lips once more a breath away from each other, and I was suddenly lost in the sea of Auriel’s green.
The green I’d always loved. His eyes were hooded as he watched me, darkening with raw hunger—hunger I’d seen in my memories as Asherah.
The same hunger that had been rising to the surface for weeks now.
His aura pulsed around me, pulling me in toward him, bright and warm and full of an unbridled need. A need for me.
And yet, there was still a question in his gaze, a small doubt. He had to know I was sure, as much as he had to make sure I was okay. I could see it—his concern, his worry.
But under it all, I could see something else. His love.
“Lyriana,” he said again, his eyebrows drawing together. One final question.
I shook my head. “Don’t, Auriel.” I pressed my finger to his lips. “Just kiss me.”