Advent: Book 3 of The Summer Omega Series (Summer Omrga)

by JK Cooper

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  THE SUMMER OMEGA SERIES

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Epilogue

  about the authors

  Copyright © 2019 Kristen Cooper

  Cover design by Deranged Doctor Design

  Interior design: Mikey Brooks www.mikeybrooks.com

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the publisher. For information regarding permission please visit: www.authorjkcooper.com

  eBook Edition

  THE SUMMER OMEGA SERIES:

  AWAKENING

  ~

  ASCENSION

  ~

  ADVENT

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  Athena watched the Feral pace back and forth inside the silver-coated steel cage as the sun set on Copeland Manor. The pack had taken to calling the manor Advent Estates. A little much, Athena thought, but she couldn’t squash their enthusiasm. They had salvaged everything useful from the mansion, the grounds, and the Hunter helicopter, including three small cages meant to hold individual Lycans in cramped, painful quarters during transport.

  Athena had forced several captive humans to combine the cages into one larger enclosure in the Copeland gym at Mareus’s request, wrapping bars together with silver wire. She let three of those humans run free, or as free as the walled-in grounds allowed. A poor excuse for sport, but it was all she had to work with. Difficult to enjoy that type of hunt.

  She’d been loping after a particularly fast woman with several of the recently turned in tow—teasing her prey, really—when her father’s Feral guest arrived. It was anxious, angry, and eager to get out, though that eagerness had spiked twenty minutes earlier when it began beating itself repeatedly against the one side of the cage.

  Athena wrinkled her nose at the acrid scent the accursed metal always left in the air when it touched Lycan flesh, somewhere between burnt hair, smelting steel, and wet dog.

  “Stop that!” Athena punched one of the bars, ignoring the shock of pain as her skin hit silver along with her own unique tang of burnt wolf that she added to his.

  It snarled at her and resumed trying to crack its skull open on the silver-treated bars, sending an almost gong-like tone reverberating down the marbled corridors of the manor. Athena stared hard at the creature, admiring the dark gray coat that lightened to white at the tips and letting feelings flow through her as she brought her double-bladed scythe in and out of existence. The snath came and went from reality with a small humming pop that only she could hear due to her Lycan-enhanced senses. The dark wood of the handle—the color of black ash—vibrated at a molecular level, tickling her palm as it crawled with warmth and life. Locking her eyes with the Feral’s, she began to peer into its mind, peeling away its layers of defense.

  She recoiled at the madness she found below the surface of the Feral’s mind just as she felt her father’s arrival next to her. “I thought you said he was your friend?”

  Mareus growled. “He was . . . is.” Athena could sense him conversing with Viersin, getting memories and facts straight as he spoke. She could also sense his pain and frustration at his hand that wasn’t healing as fast as it should. “But Ptyas wasn’t the most stable wolf to begin with. He was a Mystic. Seeing so much of the future makes it hard to remain sane, I am told.”

  “No kidding. I’ve listened to you read from your old book plenty. Ramblings and riddles. The Mystics were off their rockers and then some.” Athena smiled sweetly at her father, but secretly enjoyed the jab of anger that went through him at the mention of the Isluxua, which Otto failed to recover from Sadie. Athena couldn’t say she felt any sorrow for the loss of her father’s lieutenant.

  “Do not speak of the sacred text so lightly, Daughter. It has proven accurate and helped you unlock the first key.” His tone felt cold and dangerous. Mareus turned back to the Feral.

  “What is wrong with him?” Athena asked, still staring at the Feral. “I sense . . . derangement.”

  “Ptyas chose a comatose madwoman as his bond.”

  “You let him choose such weakness?” Athena ran one of her magical blades along the bars, setting off a spray of purple sparks that managed to get the Feral’s attention, sending it to one corner where it glared at her with suspicious eyes.

  “Careful, Daughter. It sounds very much like you’re questioning my decisions.” He rubbed at the curled fingers of his left hand that refused to fully extend, even as the scars healed. Athena felt her father’s cold anger flare hotter.

  She held the scythe up to her eyes, let it vanish, and bowed. “Only curious.”

  Mareus sighed. “Kieren served as Ptyas’s scribe for decades. She was damaged, mentally and physically, during one of the early conflicts. He loved her, wanted to heal her. I allowed it because it suited my needs, but he was not the same after. I sent him through the crystal portal not long after. The Advent on Alsvoira had been lost by that time, and I knew I would need Ptyas’s knowledge again. As it turns out, I need both his knowledge and him, and so do you.”

  Athena turned back to the mad Feral. “He doesn’t seem to remember you.” She dug deeper into him. “He’s torn apart inside. His human scribe never gave him autonomy. Kieren is deep, broken, lost.” How would that be, both of them bystanders in this body? “Any semblance of control Ptyas has is mostly instinct, and what he managed to force through to the surface.” Impressive. She looked up, eyes wide. “Okay, he’s stronger than he looks. It’s a miracle he’s managed to keep them both alive.”

  “I choose my followers wisely, Daughter. The second key lies with him.”

  “But how do we get consent from that schism of a Lycan? Neither can give it. Can’t we find another Feral?”

  Mareus shook his head. “The Isluxua was clear.”

  She rolled her eyes with a short laugh, summoned her scythe again, and ran the blades across another bar, letting the met
al ring like vibrating crystal.

  He looked at her. “As clear as it gets.”

  She smiled and said nothing.

  “You need a Feral Mystic willing to give you consent. I brought only one Mystic to my side on Alsvoira. I do not know how many Mystics made it through the gate. I doubt many went Feral. He must be yoked to you. You must make him whole, if you wish to unlock the second key.”

  Athena suddenly understood. “You want me to break the bond between human and Immortal Wolf? Is that even possible?”

  “I wouldn’t have thought so once, but I feel nothing left of the union between my parents or their latest incarnations. You did well severing that link.” Mareus rapped one of the bars, like one would a fish bowl. His knuckles singed at the contact, but Athena barely felt him flinch from the pain through the pack link. “Do not fear, Ptyas,” Mareus said. “We will bring you back to us.” He crossed his arms. “Do it, Athena.”

  “Here goes . . . something.” She dismissed her scythe and reached out with her senses to the ley lines beneath Copeland Manor. They still oozed magic from the wounds she’d made in them a week earlier. Much like a leech that leaves behind chemicals that prevent coagulation, Athena had left a mark in them that gave her easy access. She would need the extra strength.

  She poured her Omega magic into the Feral, infusing it into the slackened bond she felt inside him. He resisted. She poured ease into his mind. We will take care of your Kieren, Ptyas. Let her go.

  The bond flexed, but it was no fragile thing. It bounced back. Athena pushed again, and it bent further, but snapped back with a jolt that rocked her with pain. Apparently, this union was not one the Goddess intended to be broken. Athena gritted her teeth, unwilling to spend weeks working on this bond like she had with Shelby and Kale. “I need to be closer to him. Open the door.”

  “Are you sure?” Mareus held a protective hand out in front of her, three fingers curled inward. “He can be unpredictable.”

  “I can take care of myself.” Athena glanced down at his hand. He tucked it back beneath his arm.

  Reluctantly, Mareus slid the bolt free from the lock and the cage swung open. Athena stepped into the center of the opening, daring the Feral to go through her for its escape. She closed her eyes and tapped deeper into the magic beneath them, pulling more than she could hold. Her scythe reappeared in her hand, purple light flaring from it. When she opened her eyes once more, they also glowed a deep violet, reflecting back at her from a dozen silver bars, wisps of the color floating from them like tinted smoke.

  The Feral cowered away from her.

  “It’s time to let go, Ptyas.” She lifted her scythe above her head and swung it at the broken creature.

  “Athena, no!” Mareus growled behind her, his tone pushing into her and demanding obedience.

  She ignored his Call, despite how much her body wanted to obey. This must be done. The dual blades of her scythe burned through air, fur, flesh, and bonds. She could feel her father shift, come crashing through the cage to stop her, but she stepped to the side to let him see the result of her attack. He stopped.

  In the corner of the cage sat one Immortal Wolf and one thin, wild-eyed woman with matted and soiled hair. The woman began sobbing. Ptyas stood over Kieren, protective, but also bowed to Viersin, immediately joining the pack link. He looked down at the woman who clung to his fur and spoke to Mareus and Athena through the pack link. You will get her the help she needs?

  Yes, old friend, I will, Mareus replied.

  Viersin must swear it to me, Ptyas said.

  Athena felt the presence of Viersin rise in the pack link as her father allowed his Immortal Wolf to surface briefly.

  Kieren will be seen to, Ptyas, Viersin growled. You need not doubt us.

  Ptyas lowered his massive head at the slight rebuke. Then I consent. He lunged forward and bit Athena on the thigh before she could react.

  She screamed in rage and swung her scythe through the beast’s neck, but the wolf was dead before her blades struck. Ptyas crumbled to the ground without a drop of blood falling from the gash, like an empty shell, the husk of a wolf that curled inward on itself much like Mareus’s fingers.

  “What?” But Athena fell to her knees as fire raced through her, remaking her from the inside out. It felt similar to the first time she’d shifted, but different, stronger, more violent. “What’s happening?”

  Mareus shifted, his face pale as he caught her in his arms. “Ptyas bonded with you. Five Rivers! I don’t know what that will do to a Lycan. He was not an Omega. I . . . I do not know what this will do to you, Daughter.”

  She shuddered. “Will I keep the first key?”

  Mareus blinked, then set his jaw. “You must!”

  Athena felt the command of her Alpha in the growl of his last words, but also his trepidation, and then her link to him and the pack broke. The fire within her burned hotter as she screamed, but it turned into a howl as her body shifted without her control. She could taste her father’s fear, not for her, but for the possible loss of her druid powers, the key, all the progress they had made. Her wolf felt larger, stronger, heavier than she was used to. Lethality. It coursed through her.

  She looked up at her father through wolf eyes that saw the world in bright swaths of colors. The link to his pack reformed, but it felt different. Everything felt strange and new. She needed to see what Ptyas had done to her, for her, but Mareus blocked her escape from the cage.

  “Wait,” he said.

  She dodged to the side and slashed at the bars. The thick metal shredded under her massive claws, her flesh sizzling on the silver. She pushed through the opening, wincing at the pain, but determined. Once free, she darted toward the far side of the gym. Her father bounded behind her in his wolf.

  Stop, Daughter, go back to the cage until we know what this has done to you, Mareus said through the pack link.

  I have to see for myself.

  Very well, but do not attempt to leave the gym.

  Keeping her thoughts to herself, she wondered, Does he think I’ve gone mad? Or Feral? Have I?

  She slid to a halt in front of one of the massive mirrors that lined the wall, her claws destroying rubber and the tile beneath them. She gasped. She was far larger than she had ever been as a wolf, nearly matching her father’s massive frame. Her wolf’s aspect that she had been born with and Ptyas had blended, her black coat touched with streaks of gray and white, but the unique pattern on her side remained.

  She shifted slowly, watching the transition in the mirror as muscle and bone snapped in and out of alignment to reconfigure into the human face and body she recognized. That’s a blessing. I half thought I’d have a beard or something.

  That isn’t how it works. I do not have a human side, so only I, as an Immortal Wolf, become a part of you. It was the voice of Ptyas. Speak the words to gain consent.

  “Um, he’s talking in my head.”

  “You’ll get used to the voice of another in your mind with time.” Mareus half shifted at her side. “Mostly.” He took a deep breath, stared at her hard, and voiced his fears. “Do you remain an Omega? Is the key intact?”

  Athena closed her eyes, poured ease and acceptance into her father. She felt him calm at her mental touch. That’s still there. She opened her eyes, lifted a hand, and summoned her new weapon. She smiled as the wicked scythe appeared. “Yes, to both.”

  He sighed in relief. “You are another First. The first Lycan to bond with an Immortal Wolf. There is power in a First.”

  The words came to her. “I, Athena-mit-Ptyas, petition the second key from you, Ptyas, Mystic of the Goddess, Keeper of the Scrolls.”

  I consent.

  Her smile turned to a grin as a golden glow surrounded them. “And I have the second key.” Her mouth opened wide as a thrill rushed through her, and she shuddered, this time in exquisite delight. “I . . . I can feel it.” The glow softened to leave behind sleek jet-black armor that fit her human frame perfectly.

  Her gaze
slid along the armor, inky metal far lighter than it looked. She found no hammer marks, welds, or creases, each piece beyond smooth. Crimson lines pulsed with a soft light, like lava beneath the surface. These lines met at the center of her breastplate, where they coalesced into the side profile of a wolf clad in a helm with goat horns. Athena admired the sharp spikes that protruded from the pauldrons over her shoulders and from the gauntlets at her knuckles. Her helm hugged her face and scalp and indeed had two twisted goat horns on each side.

  She brought her scythe into existence and laughed at the demonic presence she emanated in her black and red armor.

  “Your eyes no longer burn amber, my daughter,” Mareus said, “but a haunting violet, like lightning.”

  “It is the storm inside me you see, Father.”

  Looking to Mareus, Athena noted that he wore similar armor. His molded to him perfectly as well, even though he was still half-human and half-wolf.

  She shifted, watching the armor morph with her in the mirror, feeling it match her form throughout the process from human to wolf. Oh, this is going to be fun.

  I’m glad the Fae armor pleases you, Ptyas said.

  On the other hand, having a voice in my head, besides my own, is going to take some getting used to.

  Theophinus stood deep in the tunnels of Underhill before a shimmering gash in reality, one of the four demon gates that had appeared after the death of the Goddess closed her crystal portal forever. Three linked back to Alsvoira, while the last, and most recent, came from a world the demon king had conquered before Alsvoira’s fall. The Fae guarded these gates and prepared for the next attempt to overtake Earth. This tear in reality hovered a foot above the damp cavern floor deep beneath a section of China, but linked to Underhill by powerful magic. The edges of the rift sparking with electricity that helped illuminate delicate, lace-like stalactites.

  The portal Theo guarded was known as The Blood Gate, partly for the crimson color along its edge, partly for the coppery smell it leaked into the cavern, and partly for the nature of the creatures on that far side: blood-red parasites.