Unleashed

by Tiffany Roberts

  Kelsharn’s chin lifted, and Nina sensed he was looking past her, to the valos gathered behind her. “You may destroy one another now.”

  The power he projected increased; she understood, now, how he’d controlled his valos. How could anything stand against this?

  She gritted her teeth.

  Aduun stood against this. Vortok stood, and Balir. They all stood against Kelsharn because he could not control them.

  “No!” Nina yelled, thrusting her hand out at Kelsharn as though it would throw his power back at him. “I won’t let you hurt them, not anymore, or anyone else on Sonhadra.”

  He pushed back at her, but she held firm, refusing to allow this monster to hurt the ones she loved. She used all her strength to hold her focus on Kelsharn. Immense pressure clamped on her temples, squeezing like a vice. The thunderous pounding of her heart was nothing compared to the commotion in her head.

  —You cannot stand against me!—

  Kelsharn’s voice rang in her head with the volume of a raging storm, its multiple tones combining into something terrible.

  He continued to walk forward, but his step faltered.

  She stretched her mind outward, brushing it over the familiar warmth of Aduun, Balir, and Vortok before pushing it farther. Beyond them were the raging beast-minds of nearly a hundred more valos, frightened, hungry, and confused. Kelsharn’s power had fallen over them like a dark fog, pressing them to the ground. He sent more psychic energy outward; Nina saw it as inky tendrils reaching toward the valos in her mind’s eye, and knew his intent wasn’t simply to suppress them, but to control them,

  Nina visualized her own power as light, bright and blinding, and cast it out to intercept his projections. Light and darkness clashed, swirling into something volatile and terrible. Body tense and head throbbing, Nina held on, drawing from the strength offered by her valos, drawing from a well of willpower deeper than she’d known, drawing from Sonhadra itself.

  Something warm trickled from her nose, flowing over her lips and down her chin.

  Kelsharn roared; it was an inhuman, bone-rattling sound. The darkness around him deepened, becoming almost impenetrable. She felt him reaching into her, felt his psychic claws sinking into her mind.

  Nina released a battle cry of her own, layered with the bestial roars of her mates.

  Kelsharn would never again hurt them. The horrors he’d inflicted upon her mates, upon Orishok, upon all the tribes, would never be repeated.

  Nina glared at the creature before her with all the hatred and fury she and her mates possessed, using the emotions as fuel. But more than their rage, she clutched at their love. Gritting her teeth, she pulled back for an instant, lowering her defenses.

  Kelsharn’s grip on her mind intensified. The darkness surrounding him coalesced and swept toward her.

  In that instant, she struck.

  Nina shaped her power into a blade, blazing and brilliant, and thrust it directly into Kelsharn’s mind.

  His scream echoed in her head and through the air of this false Bahmet.

  For several terrifying moments, her mind was connected completely to Kelsharn’s. She saw thousands of years of memories over the course of a single heartbeat, felt his anger and his arrogance, his fury and his fear, and she saw every terrible thing he’d done and intended to do to the people of Sonhadra, human or not. Everything he’d done to the people of a hundred other planets.

  She watched from his eyes as he seduced the Creator of the stone valos, Ilena, and coaxed the secrets of how she and her valos shaped stone like clay from her, convincing her to provide him several of her creations to build this place. To build the prison — the tomb — he’d devised for Aduun’s clan. She felt his satisfaction as he poisoned Ilena without hesitation, without regret, once she’d outlived her usefulness and he’d grown bored of her.

  But the stone valos who’d created this place knew. Somehow, they’d known, and they’d enacted their own revenge. They’d known they could not destroy him, so they had trapped him. And all his power had been unable to stop the stone valos, had been unable to break his diamond prison. Twenty-four had surrounded him, and though he killed several, their combined strength had been too great. They shaped a diamond prison around him, meant to contain him forever.

  She heard his screams of fury and desperation as moments stretched into centuries.

  His imaginings assaulted her; he envisioned these valos tearing each other apart with claws and teeth, relished the thought of blood and chunks of flesh splattered across the ground. He intended to destroy their heartstones one-by-one after opening the compartment in the platform upon which his diamond prison had stood.

  She saw the palace on the far end of the city, and the lift within that led up a wide, round shaft, higher and higher…

  And his mind showed her where that lift led.

  “You will not best me, insect,” Kelsharn growled.

  Nina’s eyes focused as her awareness reverted to her body. He was mere feet away from her, slowly closing that scant distance; a giant, a terrifying creature borne of nightmares, a thing shaped of darkness and evil. But she would not let him win.

  She could not hold him back. She didn’t have the strength to do so, and even giving it everything she had, he was advancing too quickly. But he’d already displayed his weakness again and again — his own arrogance.

  “No,” she rasped, her mind in agony, her body quaking. Blood ran from her nose and ears, and she tasted it in her mouth.

  Nina withdrew her protection from the other valos and turned her entire focus on her mates, visualizing shimmering barriers around them, severing Kelsharn’s dark influence. She felt Aduun’s muscles ripple as his struggle ceased, and then he was pushing to his feet.

  Nina looked up at the surreal being towering over her. “I will not.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Aduun felt the crushing pressure fade, and a familiar, comforting warmth chased away the chill that had worked its way into his bones. He knew it was Nina’s doing, knew that, even if he couldn’t see any of it, she’d been involved in a mental battle with Kelsharn.

  And she’d held. For so long, she’d held.

  He lifted his head as he stood. Nina was still upright, but there was blood running from her ears and nose. She couldn’t hold much longer. And Kelsharn was directly in front of her, too close, and Aduun—

  Kelsharn thrust a hand forward. The long metal spikes on the ends of his gloved fingers plunged into her abdomen. “Then die, human.”

  Blood welled around the punctures and ran over her clothes. She made a small, pained sound, lips quivering, but she did not lower her gaze. When Kelsharn tugged his fingers free, Nina grunted and swayed, but still did not fall.

  Nina!

  The blood coating Kelsharn’s fingers dripped down his hand to splatter on the ground at Nina’s feet.

  The fire that had burned in Aduun’s gut ever since he was remade, the fire that Nina had finally managed to contain, exploded to life. It blazed up through his chest and erupted in a roar of fury, pain, vengeance, possessiveness, and love, and it was bolstered by similar roars from Balir and Vortok.

  Aduun leapt forward, crashing into Kelsharn. His body changed in midair; the alteration occurred faster than it ever had, producing an immense amount of heat that only fueled his rage.

  Kelsharn released a startled cry as Aduun’s momentum knocked him aside. Balir was there an instant later, having also reverted to his man form. Despite his withered body, Kelsharn somehow kept himself upright, radiating displeasure.

  Aduun raked his claws over Kelsharn’s chest with a snarl. Thick, black blood oozed from the gashes.

  “Insolent curs!” Kelsharn swung an arm at Aduun, who ducked beneath the blow. “Kneel before me!” he growled.

  Power vibrated the air around Aduun, but there was an unseen buffer between him and Kelsharn’s magic. He grasped the Creator’s extended wrist, sinking his claws into the grayed skin, and pulled Kelsharn forward.r />
  The Creator stumbled, thrown off balance. Balir seized the moment to attack. He leapt into the air, lifting his legs high, and slammed both feet into Kelsharn’s chest. His hooked claws bit into the Creator’s skin. The force of the blow knocked Kelsharn backward, and Aduun swung with all his might, sweeping Kelsharn in a wide arc.

  Vortok, also in his man-shape, waited at the end of the arc. Though Kelsharn was taller, Vortok was far broader. He caught the Creator, wrapping his arms around Kelsharn’s chest, and squeezed. Vortok’s massive muscles bulged as he heaved, leaning far enough back to lift Kelsharn off his feet.

  Something cracked in Kelsharn’s body, and he screamed his pain and fury. He slammed his elbow back into Vortok’s skull. The big valo reeled but didn’t relent.

  —now! Attack Kelsharn, claim your freedom, destroy your Creator!—

  Nina’s shout rang loud and true in Aduun’s mind. He hesitated, halting his charge toward Kelsharn, and turned to look at Nina.

  She was on her knees, one hand pressed over her stomach with blood flowing over her pale skin. Her head was bowed, her eyes closed, shoulders rising and falling with quick, shallow breaths. He lifted his gaze to look behind her, and his blood turned to ice.

  The beast valos who had been suppressed by Kelsharn’s power surged forward in a swarm, jaws snapping. Aduun rushed forward, but Balir reached Nina first, sweeping her into his arms.

  “Get her to safety!” Aduun shouted.

  Balir dashed off with Nina, leaving a trail of her blood on the ground. Aduun faced his people and prepared to defend his family.

  The beasts darted around him, none so much as looking at him. The air disturbed by their speed brushed over his fur.

  They have her blood scent.

  He turned to pursue them, to keep them off Nina, but the trail of blood led away, around the platform, and the beasts were ignoring it. Instead, they charged Kelsharn. Vortok released his hold and shoved Kelsharn into the swarm.

  The sharp-toothed mouth beneath Kelsharn’s eyeless mask opened in another scream, a blood-curdling cry as bestial as those of the attacking creatures. They leapt onto him, burying him in their thrashing bodies. Bits of flesh and black blood flew into the air.

  Fire coursed through Aduun’s veins. Vengeance over a thousand years in the making was here, now. Kelsharn faced justice tonight.

  He stalked forward, shoving through the slavering beasts; his tribesmen ignored him, too focused on the blood-scent of the one who’d changed them, too consumed with revenge even when given fully to their beasts.

  A wave of power erupted from within the ravenous pile. Many of the creatures flew backward, and more fell to the ground as though they’d been swatted down by a giant hand. Aduun felt that force around him again, felt Kelsharn attempting to exert his will, but Nina somehow maintained the shield.

  Kelsharn struggled onto a knee at the center of the stunned beasts. Black ichor seeped from dozens of open wounds, but somehow the Creator was still moving, still alive.

  “I…will not be overcome…by animals such as you,” he growled through bloody teeth.

  Vortok grasped one of Kelsharn’s massive horns in each hand and forced the Creator’s head back, exposing his throat. When Kelsharn struggled, he jabbed a knee into the Creator’s back.

  Aduun stepped over a disoriented, crawling beast and stopped in front of Kelsharn.

  The creator lashed out wildly with both hands, splattering ichor on Aduun’s chest.

  Aduun caught Kelsharn’s arms at the wrists and wrenched them apart. He leaned forward. Heavy breaths wheezed through Kelsharn’s teeth, and fresh blood oozed over his thin lips.

  “No one will hold your vigil,” Aduun said. “Sonhadra rejects you, Creator.”

  “I will—”

  Aduun lunged forward and clamped his teeth over Kelsharn’s neck. Bitter blood filled his mouth; once, it might have been the sweetest of tastes to him. He jerked his head back, pushing down on Kelsharn’s arms for leverage, and tore out the Creator’s throat.

  Blood poured from the gaping wound, bubbling as Kelsharn produced gurgling, choking noises.

  Releasing his hold on the Creator, Aduun turned his head and spat the flesh from his mouth. Vortok shoved Kelsharn forward as the surrounding beasts recovered and swarmed him again. The snarls and growls of their feeding drowned out any cries Kelsharn might’ve made.

  Without another thought for Kelsharn, Aduun ran toward the platform, following the trail of blood. Vortok’s heavy steps sounded immediately behind him.

  Nina’s blood flowed warm over Balir’s hand. He pressed harder on her wounds, desperate to stop the bleeding, but even if he could do that with her stomach, she was still bleeding from her nose and ears. His heart thumped, its slow beat matching not his panic but Nina’s weakness. She’d given so much of herself. Too much.

  “Nina, stay,” he breathed, clutching her tighter against him. His hand shook on her stomach. The scent of her blood was everywhere — on his skin, on the ground, invading his senses — and yet his beast did not stir in hunger. It whined with worry for its mate.

  She touched his cheek; her fingers were cold. He gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut. If he’d never known fear before, he knew it now.

  I won’t be able to hold them back, Balir.

  Her words flowed into his mind, but he wanted to hear them from her mouth. He wanted to be able to look into her eyes, to comfort her, to tell her she would be fine and know he’d spoken true beyond any doubt. He needed to help her.

  Find their heartstones in the base of the platform, she continued. There is a hollow within. Vortok, help him.

  “I cannot leave your side,” Balir growled as their companions came around the platform. Aduun and Vortok’s footfalls were overpowered by the sounds of eating from the other side; gnashing jaws, cracking bones, tearing flesh.

  “I will help her,” Aduun said, crouching beside Balir; the scent of Kelsharn’s blood clung to him. A rustling of hide signaled he was rummaging through one of the bags, and it was followed by the sound of water pouring onto the ground a moment later. Aduun’s hand was cool and wet when he slipped it beneath Balir’s to stem Nina’s bleeding.

  Balir tensed; he couldn’t leave her, wouldn’t leave her, not when she was so hurt, not when she needed him the most.

  Her voice brushed over his mind in a gentle caress. I’m not going anywhere. Get the heartstones. Your tribe needs them.

  He clenched his jaw and carefully passed Nina to Aduun. Though she wasn’t limp, she was greatly weakened, holding up little of her weight on her own. His arms felt empty without her in them, and the helplessness that had seeded in his gut sprouted roots and grew.

  Balir climbed atop the platform on hands and knees and swept aside the crystal shards that littered it. Vortok bent forward and helped, swinging his massive arms from side to side to dislodge the crystal pieces that were still encrusted in place.

  Turning his hand palm-up, Balir rapped his knuckles on the stone, listening for a change to the dull thwap his knocking produced. He moved as quickly as he could without creating too much noise to hear over; the beasts were already loud enough while they finished their meal.

  The tone of his knock changed suddenly. He felt it resonate, just barely, through the stone under his other hand. “Here, Vortok,” he called, slapping the top of the platform.

  One of the beasts let out an agitated shriek. Balir didn’t have to see them to recognize what the sound meant; he’d caught its attention. The eating noises diminished, and he felt the eyes of the beasts — of his people — swinging toward him. He was covered in Nina’s blood. They’d sense it as a wound and come for him, first.

  “We need to hurry,” Balir said.

  Vortok grunted. Balir scooted back as his sound-sight gave him a blurred image of the big valo slamming both fists down onto the stone slab.

  A great crack split the air, echoing outward across the city. As the sound bounced back to him, he was granted a gho
stly impression of his tribesmen lifting their heads and turning toward him.

  Vortok waved away the small cloud of dust that arose when the stone broke and reached into the hollow, heaving aside the larger chunks of stone. His hackles were raised; he could feel the attention of his bestial tribesmen shifting toward him, could sense the ravenous violence they were about to direct at him and his companions. Even more pressing was Nina’s condition. She was tough, but how long could she hold on?

  His eyes widened.

  Dozens of heartstones lay inside the hollow, all glowing like fire, their red-orange illumination highlighting the motes of dust in the air above them.

  “What do we do with them?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” Balir replied, his words sped by his panic. “Just throw them!”

  Vortok plunged both hands into the piled stones, scooping up a large number, and tossed them toward the beasts. They shifted their gazes to the stones. With growls and grunts, many of the beasts began to change.

  The ones who weren’t changing stalked forward, baring teeth already stained black by Kelsharn’s blood.

  “More!” Vortok shouted.

  He and Balir reached into the hollow and withdrew the heartstones by the handful, hurling them at the approaching beasts. Vortok didn’t allow his gaze to linger on the creatures for long; to do so would mean he’d have to admit to himself that he didn’t recognize any of them, not the way they looked now, and that would be too much guilt to bear.

  It was already too much that Nina was hurt, that she’d been injured when he and his brothers should’ve been protecting her.

  When too few stones were left to scoop them out in handfuls, Vortok struggled to pluck them up one at a time, his large, clumsy fingers making the task more difficult. He was thankful for Balir’s presence in those moments; Balir’s dexterous hands moved quickly, snatching up heartstones almost faster than Vortok’s eyes could track.