Chapter 34 #4
The akadim began to run. The ground was vibrating beneath us, and to my shock the wall behind us was starting to crumble, creating a small opening that led back outside toward the valley. An akadim began to dig, and then crawled through to escape. Another quickly followed.
Rhyan launched himself at me, his blade swinging, the red shard little more than a flash of red and crystal. I dodged, just barely missing the hit. Another spin and I prepared to swing, but Rhyan knocked me back with his elbow, and I stumbled, crashing into a metal cart.
I groaned, peeling myself off and stabbing my sword, just in time to block his next attack.
Breathing heavily, I raced behind the cart and pushed it at him. It rolled forward with a surprising burst of speed, but he stopped it easily with one hand.
“Really, Lyr?” He shook his head and made a clicking sound with his tongue. “That’s the move?”
He dashed around the cart for me, but I raced in the opposite direction, letting him chase me until I turned, and stabbed, just barely catching his arm.
He jabbed at me, nearly landing a hit to my stomach, but my own steel came down at just the right moment.
Metal slid against the sharp unyielding crystal and I forced him back, breaking free of the hold between our blades for a quick slash of his other arm.
And then more rocks began to fall, crashing into the broken wall behind us, where even more akadim were digging tunnels to escape.
My heart thumped. I could feel myself growing tired.
If Rhyan didn’t catch me with the blade of the shard, a falling boulder was likely going to be my demise.
I had to end this soon. I had to disarm him, get the shard back.
And I needed to know what had happened to Auriel.
I thrust again, aiming for his shoulder and Rhyan blocked, barely having to move that time. Angling myself I feinted to the left, and stabbed right, but Rhyan saw it coming and merely stepped back.
“I thought this was a serious fight.” He shook his head, both eyebrows furrowed. “But you’re not even aiming for my heart. I don’t know, Lyr,” he said with a disapproving frown, “it doesn’t feel like you’re really trying. I thought I taught you better than that.”
“You taught me nothing,” I snapped.
“You wound me.” He pressed a hand to his chest, and made a sound of mock pain. “I taught you everything you know. Everything you know,” he said, his voice suggestive.
And then he lifted the red blade, sliding it back into the sheath he wore on his back. Snarling, he ran for me, no longer holding back. I held out my sword, but I was so afraid of actually hurting him, of getting his heart with the wrong weapon that I missed and he knocked the sword from my hand.
I yelled out as his hands wrapped around my arms and he lifted me into the air before slamming me onto the ground.
“No!” I yelled. But he’d forced my hands over my head, crawling over me again.
“Well, you weren’t fighting. So I thought it was time for something else.” His nostrils flared as his eyes zeroed in on the bandage on my neck. He ripped it off and I cried out just as his tongue licked across the bite marks he’d left behind.
I kicked, but it was fucking useless against his muscles.
“Remember how it was between us? How good?” he asked. “Remember how many times I took you our last night together? Again and again in the Palace. And then on the rooftop in Thene.”
I shook my head. “Don’t. Don’t.”
“Don’t what? Remind you of every time you came because of me? Or don’t do it again?”
My chest heaved and my eyes zeroed in on the blade at his back. If I could free a hand, I could reach it. I’d have to hurt him to get him off of me, get into position.
Even now, even in this form, and knowing damn well everything he’d done to me, the idea hurt. But I had no choice. If I was going to save him, I had to be ruthless.
I met his cold soulless gaze. “Can akadim even kiss?” I asked.
He laughed. “We can do all kinds of things.” He leaned in. “If you want, we can start with kissing.” He skimmed his nose against my neck, then lifted up to meet my eyes again.
“Can I?” he asked.
I want to kiss you. Can I?
I bit back a cry, the backs of my eyes burning. How dare he! How dare he tarnish that memory for us.
But I nodded. I knew what I had to do. “Yes.”
“See?” he purred. “It was only a matter of time before you gave in.”
His mouth pressed against mine, and I almost recoiled in disgust. His lips were cold and hard.
Nothing remotely like Rhyan’s. In a way, it was freeing—it wasn’t him.
Not at all. Any lingering confusion I’d had the day before was completely gone.
I could still feel Auriel’s kiss, soft and gentle and full of love and passion.
It hummed under my skin, reminding me of the truth, of what Rhyan actually felt like— what he was like when he had his soul. When his heart beat against mine.
But this Rhyan forced his tongue into my mouth, his fangs scraping against my lips. I softened, willing myself to remain calm, to go along with him.
One of his hands still held mine together above my head.
A tear rolled down my cheek, as my fingers reached for his wrist, stroking his cold skin. I lifted my chest, undulating under him, pressing my hips against his.
I met his tongue with mine, and pulled back, just enough to whisper, “Touch me.”
It had the effect I wanted. He released my hands and slid his down my torso, as he kissed me deeper.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, my hands digging into his flesh, urging him on as I let the kiss deepen, my fingers tangling in his hair. Not soft like it once was.
The ground shuddered, another boulder fell. I moaned into his mouth, and I reached for my sword. Rhyan ground into me, his hips pressing down as my fingers tightened around the hilt.
I pulled it out, in one stroke, the tip of the blade suddenly pressed into his neck.
He froze and I pushed back, hard enough to draw blood.
“Lyr,” he said, a warning in his voice.
“I told you I came here to fight,” I seethed. “And take back what’s mine. Now get off me. Stand up, and I won’t cut off your head,” I bluffed.
His eyes narrowed but he sat back on his heels, and I scurried back, removing my body out from under his. My breath was coming in heavy, my fear rising to the surface. What if I missed? Gods. What if I killed him?
Because while I had no warm feelings toward the twisted monster in front of me, the one stealing Rhyan’s memories and using them against me, he was the vehicle I needed to bring him back.
To restore his body. His beautiful, strong, kind loving body, the home for the soul I loved, the body of my soulmate.
Slowly, holding the sword out, I rose to my feet. Rhyan did as well, his hands raised in surrender.
I stepped forward, not sure what to do. Did I just stab him? Would he let me?
He gave me my answer with a sudden growl as he lunged. My sword swung, cutting through his arm. But he wasn’t deterred. He only looked angrier. There was a violence in his eyes I hadn’t seen before. He was past protecting me. He was fighting for his life.
I stepped back but Rhyan was already on me, trying to rip the sword from my hand. I tightened my grip, but he was using his claws to wrench it free, using all of his muscle, ruthlessly twisting my arm, forcing me to let go.
“NO!” I yelled. I heard it before I felt it. An awful bone-cracking sound.
Pain exploded like a thousand knives in my right arm. It hung uselessly at my side as the sword clanged to the ground.
Rhyan had broken my arm.
More than that, he’d broken my sword arm.
No. No. No.
I fell to the ground, trying not to vomit from the pain, reaching for the hilt with my left hand as Rhyan came down upon me. I had no time to prepare, no time to ready myself.
My arm shot up, and the blade pierced through his leathered armor. Something cried out in my heart.
He roared, his head turned up to the ceiling as he reared back.
I’d stabbed him. But not deep enough.
I crawled back to my feet, my stomach twisting with another bout of nausea, the pain in my arm exploding.
Rhyan kicked, the sole of his boot slamming into my left hand.
The sword flew back on impact, my hold on the hilt hadn’t been tight enough.
The red shard slid out of my grip, and the blade sliced through my hand.
Blood spurted wildly, the red droplets mixing with the red shard, sinking into the red crystal.
In seconds I’d be weaponless, both hands useless.
This was it. He was going to kill me. My heart thrummed, pulsing a million beats at once, like it could make up for all the time it was about to lose.
And then, just as I was about to give in, light illuminated the blade.
It glowed with a bright fiery red, nearly blinding in color—brighter and more vibrant than anything I’d ever seen.
Without warning, my mind flashed to another time.
Another life. A great hall of golden columns, set against a blue sky and rainbow-colored clouds.
Music hummed in my ears, an otherworldly harmony, haunting in its beauty.
A brilliant luminescent light glimmered and shone above me.
For a moment, I felt at peace. Whole and without pain.
I was in the Hall of Records.
Watching the Valalumir.
A head of golden curls peeked out from behind a column.
His green eyes found mine, shimmering with light and love.
There was a jolt in my chest as I was pushed out of the memory and slammed back into my body. Pain lit up my broken arm and my sliced-up hand. My stomach roiled, my throat tightening, like I was about to vomit. My mouth began to move, words spilling out before I could think.
“Ani petrova Rakashonim, me ka el lyrotz, dhame ra shukroya, aniam anam. Chayate me el ra shukroya. Ani petrova Rakashonim! ”
The spell echoed through the cave, my voice sounding foreign to my ears. It was Asherah, siphoning through me in her purest form. To save me. To save us.
I caught the hilt of the blade before it touched the ground. My blood coated the steel and handle. But strength pulsed through me—not enough to erase the pain in my body, but enough to fortify me to the point where it didn’t matter, where I was strong enough to stand it.
My eyes met Rhyan’s.
With a scream, I ran forward, the blade poised. And I thrust, watching the point vanish beneath the tear in his leathers, breaking into his skin, and then sliding in and in, piercing his heart.
His body stilled, his face frozen in horror.
He gasped, reaching one hand out for me, as if I might hold it. Might hold him.
“Lyr,” he said, his voice desperate and helpless. His eyes glowed red with pain. Still akadim. “Lyr,” he groaned again. The sword glowed, flames erupting around the blade. Flames that echoed in my heart even as my chest tightened. My aura flared out, golden light doming around us.
I gripped the sword even harder, pushing it further into his heart, before I pulled it out. Rhyan sank to his knees, his eyes still red, but they were losing light, losing signs of life.
“Rhyan?” I asked. “Rhyan?”
The dome of gold vanished, leaving us in the darkness of the mines.
“Me—Mekara,” he croaked out, and fell, landing on his face.
“RHYAN!” I screamed, falling to the ground and turning him over.
Blood poured from his chest—from his heart.
I’d struck true. I’d done it—I’d done exactly what Auriel and his Valya had told me to do.
I’d done it perfectly. But he was still akadim.
He was still akadim. It hadn’t worked. It hadn’t fucking worked.
I shook his shoulders, crying out and yelling his name. “Rhyan! Rhyan!”
A blood-curdling, animalistic scream, one that didn’t even sound human, thundered from my mouth.
The ceiling cracked in two, glimmering stars peeking through the breach. Rocks rained down around us.
His eyes closed, and his chest stilled.
He remained akadim.
Dead.
I’d failed.