by Vi Voxley
She realized he was waiting for her gerion too, to see, to witness him defiling her. Ruining her.
"Get on the bed," Worgen ordered and his gravelly voice was almost robotic.
All fury was gone. He felt almost cold, disinterested.
"I am not your gesha," Lana said, not moving.
"I know."
"I will never be yours."
"I don't care," Worgen said, and his tone said he really didn't. "You might have cost me my victory. You don't know it, but you cost the Brions their one chance at a future. I can't forgive that."
"What you offer to them is a lie—" Lana began, but Worgen was done with her.
The general approached, seizing her by the throat and throwing her on the bed. Lana coughed, rubbing her neck as her back hit the mattress. The strong fingers had left a twisting mark even without the gloves and the hot edges of the armor had dug into her skin. She crawled away from him on the bed, but Worgen didn't follow her.
"If I'm not yours," Lana said. "If you don't care, let me go. If you kill me, Corden will make you regret this."
Worgen smiled, but like the first time Lana saw that, it almost seemed to hurt his face.
"I will not kill you," the mad general said. "There is no point to that. Dying is easy."
"Is that why you're trying so hard to avoid it?" Lana asked.
If there were no other weapons left for her, she could try and hurt him with words. But it seemed Worgen had also become immune to those. The dark general merely laughed.
"Easy for those who don't have the will and the strength to take their lives into their own hands," he answered. "Like that boy of yours. He thinks there is only one life, only one way he can take. That is pathetic. We are Brions, we carve our own paths. This is why I'm needed, you see? I must teach them again."
A message echoed through the room then, addressed to Worgen.
"General," a voice said. "The enemy is on his way. General Corden has left the bay. He is coming."
Worgen didn't respond, but a fire came to life in his dark eyes.
"Now we will see," he said. "But first, we should make sure your gerion sees the future that is waiting for you."
Lana backed away with a cry, but that didn't stop Worgen. The general pulled her to him by the collar of her jacket. His touch seemed to burn her skin more painfully than the flaming armor. Lana tried to kick him away, but the insane smile on the general's face showed her how little he cared for her feeble attempts to run.
She still snarled in fury as Worgen ripped her clothes, tearing them apart and baring her to the general's gaze, her balled fists seeming to be no more than a nuisance as she punched him repeatedly. His dark eyes burned with a hunger, but it wasn't lust for her. Lana didn't believe he actually desired her, as she hadn't since their first encounter.
No, she was nothing more than a tool for victory. In that case, a way to distract Corden, to drive her gerion out of his mind with jealousy.
Her clothes were hanging off her in shreds, leaving her half-naked, but that had lost its impact on her. All Lana could think of was how to help Corden fight this monster, how to be useful instead of a hindrance.
Only it seemed that her time for that had run out.
They both heard the roar outside and someone approaching like a thunderstorm. Lana watched in awe as the door shook under deafening blows. Worgen smiled beside her, pulling her into his arms, the armor blazing hot against her back.
The general made her face the door, one hand around her throat. Lana tried to pry it away, but it was no use. Worgen was portraying the exact image they both knew would destroy Corden.
The door bent inward as it was sliced in the middle. Lana saw the tip of a blade and heard furious, growling breaths. She wanted to scream and warn Corden, but Worgen had covered her mouth with his hand and not even biting helped. She was left watching as blow upon blow rained on the door until it was finally pushed apart and Corden stood in the door frame.
Lana almost cried out, seeing her gerion. She barely recognized him. The man at the door looked almost as vicious as Worgen, a feral snarl on his lips and blood covering every inch of his armor. He stood, breathing heavily, and there was nothing in his eyes but pure, unrestrained hate.
The rage was there—Lana could see it as plain as day—and she didn't know if the man she loved could ever emerge from it again.
It took only a second for Corden to take in the scene in the room. A low, malicious growl filled the sudden silence, scaring even Lana.
"I told you," Worgen said from behind her. "I said you would see the truth. We are Brions, boy. The rage is a part of who we really are."
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Corden
It burned.
A part of Corden was ready to admit that it felt good, to let his inner turmoil finally break to the surface. The rage was easy, so guilt-free compared to his normal restraint, but the look on Lana's face was tearing at something even deeper than that.
The general felt his hands shake in fury, an occurrence that had never happened to him before. Any physical body was ultimately weak, it had its breaking points, and that's why true strength required an equally strong mind. But seeing Worgen holding Lana in his arms was the first time the general had found himself shaking with anger.
His gesha's clothes were torn, baring her gorgeous body for all to see. Worgen was clearly relishing the fury on Corden's face, sliding his hands over Lana's soft skin, cupping her breasts. She struggled, but Worgen's grip was firm .
Corden wanted to attack, to charge without a second thought. He thirsted for Worgen's blood, hungered to tear him apart with his teeth, but that was the rage talking. It was the part of him Corden had fought for so long, the ancient rage that was manifesting now.
Yet for all of that, he didn't move an inch. He couldn't, not when one of Worgen's hands was wrapped around Lana's slender, pale neck. The message was clear, but it was tearing him to pieces to see it. He knew it was a trick, that it was Worgen's plan to tear down his self-control, but it was a good plan nonetheless. No man could watch his gesha being violated like that.
And when Worgen said he'd finally understood his insane plan, Corden seethed with fury.
"Death is too good for you," he snarled.
To his surprise, Worgen nodded.
"Of course," the other general said, caressing Lana's naked stomach. "True enemies should never die. They should never forget that you bested them. It would be best if they had to live forever, witnessing your triumph over them every day. It is what I mean to do to you."
He pushed Lana on her stomach on the bed and Corden moved before he could register what he had done.
"Stay where you are," Worgen warned with a cruel smile. "Or I will twist your pretty whore's neck. I assure you, there is nothing that can bring the dead back to life. The only way to beat death is to never die."
Corden stopped, gritting his teeth so hard it hurt. He could taste blood in his mouth, knowing he'd bitten into his tongue.
Lana yelped when she half-slid off the bed, her body exposed to Worgen. Her head almost touched the floor while the spear in Worgen's hand stopped Corden from making a move.
"You will be the first to learn this lesson," the mad general said, keeping his black eyes on Corden. "Unfortunately, you won't be able to put that to any use. I will make sure neither you nor she dies before I'm done breaking your minds and bodies."
Out of the corner of his eye, Corden saw Lana almost say something, but his gesha remained silent. Instead, he saw something shiny emerge from under the bed.
The rage in his soul howled victoriously. It served Worgen right for every last one of his cruel intentions to come and join the fight against him.
Lana grabbed the knife from Helia, apparently still hidden under the bed. Corden had wondered if she was still there, knowing the battle hormones beating in his and Worgen's blood made them somewhat deaf to her. Their instincts sharpened in battle, but they naturally focused on the pri
ority target. Helia wasn't that by a long shot. His gesha gripped Corden's knife hard and put all of her force into one blow, the only one she would get. She twisted around, slicing blindly behind her. Since Worgen had been so close to her, almost lying on top of her naked body, the knife cut a red line right across his face.
The mad general roared in pain and that was all Corden needed. He dashed forward, aiming to pierce Worgen's chest with the spear while the other general was still at an awkward angle on the bed. Worgen had only two options—to kill Lana or to stop Corden’s death strike.
The will to live won out as Corden had known it would, otherwise he would have grabbed Worgen's spear to stop him from hurting his gesha. Worgen managed to narrowly block Corden's spear and Corden used the angle to throw him off Lana, knocking the general to the floor.
Lana didn't stall for a moment. The second Worgen was thrown off her, the captain scrambled off the bed to get out of the way. Corden saw her slide to the floor and turned his full attention back to Worgen.
The mad general had risen in the second Corden had taken to make sure Lana was okay. Now he stood by the broken door, with Corden blocking his path to the two women. For a moment, Worgen's eyes flicked between him and the bed, judging whether it was possible for him to retrieve his hostages. Corden didn't give him the opportunity to even try.
With a kick Worgen didn't see coming, Corden slammed him backward out of the bedroom. The mad general stumbled through the broken doors, but regained his balance before Corden got to him.
The blood was still flowing down Worgen's face from the forehead, twisting his already horrendous image even further. The furious howl told him exactly how much that had to hurt.
Corden grinned. His gesha had more spirit than many Brions did. And the little frightened girl under Worgen's bed had finally decided to help fight him. It might not have been much, but she'd had the good sense to give Lana the knife instead of using it herself. The Brion armor was impossible to pierce with a blade like that, but flesh was always weak.
A part of him waited for Worgen to dash again, to run and hide as he had done before, but that was apparently not to be. The dark general stood up straight, a vicious look in his eyes. It seemed he'd understood there was no victory for him without killing Corden first.
Corden smiled. The moment of truth had come at last.
***
They destroyed the quarters as well as their weapons in their fury.
Corden's spear cut through the air with a terrible whine, slamming into another doorway when Worgen ducked under the strike. The mad general responded with a lightning-quick strike of his own, one that Corden only narrowly blocked. When the two spears met with nauseating speed, Corden could feel the impact resonate through his body.
They remained locked together for a long moment, both trying to force the other into a freefall. In a normal duel, that would have meant a small disadvantage, but with two generals, it was a death sentence.
The speed of their movements was incredible even by Brion standards, Corden knew that. Every muscle in his body was tense, working to keep up the insane exertion they were heaping on their bodies. He could see the same in Worgen, the way they both tired as the battle progressed, but if anything, it only made them pick up speed. The first to stumble, to fall, to make the smallest mistake would lose everything.
Bending almost in two to avoid the arc of Worgen's spear, Corden was reminded of the myth that had started it all and found it strangely fitting. All Worgen wanted was to win, to claim the victory for himself and Lana was a mere bonus. While he was fighting for his gesha, to finally have her entirely for himself, away from all harm.
In that sense, victory was meaningless but necessary.
The battle spears had been Brion signature weapons for ages. The reason for that was their many uses, both in close combat and as a projectile weapon. Corden was most certainly not going to throw his spear anywhere, but he had killed enemies with an expert throw in the past.
He was thinking of that because the only place where they were inconvenient was in very small spaces, like for example, someone's personal quarters.
Not only did he have to count for every move Worgen might have made, but in the fraction of a second, he had to rip his spear free from walls if he put too much force into his movements. Every strike had to be perfectly calculated, because if the spears got stuck, there was nothing to be done but die. And all that analysis had to take place in the midst of a battle to the death.
Corden lost track of time. He wasn't even sure where Lana and Helia were or if he and Worgen were still in the general's quarters. The battle was taking everything from him and the only thing he saw before his eyes was his enemy.
The rage was still burning, but Corden pushed it down. It had almost ensnared him in its dark clutches when he'd seen Lana in the arms of his enemy, but now his mind was clear. There was no winning against Worgen with the rage, not against a man who was the closest any Brion had ever come to Radgen.
Worgen didn't let it consume him; he was the rage.
And if Brions were to win, if Corden was to win, he had to do it on Brion terms. The trust the Elders had placed in him a long time ago had to be deserved, Corden believed that. They didn't make mistakes, not with things that mattered so much.
As he was pushing the rage down after coming so close to being lost to it. Worgen was letting it overtake him. Belief that only victory mattered had gotten him this far and he wasn't going to betray that even when facing his death.
Corden knew neither of them had been holding back, but the moment when everything finally stood on the line was suddenly clear as day to him. It was an odd scene, one that he hadn't believed would happen.
Enemies who almost respected each other sometimes exchanged last words before one of them triumphed, but he felt nothing like that towards Worgen. And he was utterly sure the feeling was mutual.
It became clear why Worgen had decided to take the breather when the mad general spoke, his rough, deep voice filled with confidence. He still believed the lie he kept telling himself.
"This can only end one way," Worgen said.
"I agree," Corden replied, taking a second to look at his spear.
In a way, it was the symbol of his accomplishments. Brions were very careful with their weapons, but when everything was at stake, they were only that—things that could be replaced. He'd need a new spear when it was all done. The edge was almost blunt now, like him, attacked on all sides by his own weaknesses, but Corden knew he'd won.
If he died, he'd die a real Brion.
"And you still won't see the truth," Worgen said, his voice almost mad, like he was talking sense to someone who refused to listen.
"You won't see that the only thing that matters right now is that you win, that you kill me."
Corden considered that, but the answer was the same as it had been when he first set out to search for the legendary general.
"The only thing that matters is that I protect Briolina and Lana from you," he said, raising the spear. "Killing you is merely the way to do that."
Worgen charged with a roar and Corden knew it was all over. The spears clashed together so fast that he could barely distinguish between them. Instincts and reflexes worked as hard as he did; the duel was almost lost to him in the blur. Worgen brought his spear down on him with a mighty cry, nearly splitting Corden in two, but he caught the blow and held.
The rage might have helped him win, Corden knew that, but he was disentangling himself second by second. Almost at the brink, he'd nearly tumbled over its delicious, inviting edge, but that way lay only insanity.
He was the heart of the storm, not the storm itself.
Worgen struck and Corden parried the blow, the spears twirling around each other. Corden was faster and he managed to stab at the other general's chest. Worgen stumbled back, unable to catch the blow that came at such a bad angle.
Still, he fought back, but what drove him was fury and Corden was fi
ghting for justice. The next strike was delivered so quickly Worgen barely managed to block, but Corden had known he would. It hadn't been his intention to score the hit. All he had wanted was to push Worgen back enough for him to run into the remains of the bedroom door.
Any other time Worgen would have been aware of the door behind him, would have kept the layout of the room instinctively in mind, but now he did not. The anger burning in his heart was blinding him, and the next strike from Corden made him fall back through the door. Corden kicked the remains of the door open, hearing Helia's startled, terrified scream from inside. Worgen was down, but not yet beaten.
The general rolled away from Corden's next blow, but he had stopped the spear inches from the floor like he'd done with Arben. That gave him the second he needed to kick Worgen's legs from under him as he was about to rise. Worgen's spear rose to pierce him through the heart, but Corden put his entire strength behind the blow then.
His spear descended on Worgen, cutting the black spear in two and embedding his blade in the mad general's neck. The armor that came up almost to Worgen's chin caught some of the impact and that was the reason he still lived when the two pieces of his spear clattered to the floor.
Corden stood over him, breathing heavily, trying to see clearly through the rush of battle hormones pounding through his veins. In the corner of the room, Lana was holding the crying girl in her arms. Corden saw that Helia had lent her coat to Lana to cover up at least a bit.
The enemy lay before his feet, defeated at last. Corden didn't want to think how many times he had felt the cold breath of death on his neck during the last few minutes. Perhaps it didn't matter. All that was important was that Worgen was not a threat anymore.
He watched the mad general take heaving, gargling breaths. The bluntness of Corden’s spear and the burning armor were keeping him alive, the heat working to cauterize the wound. Worgen still thought he might live.