by Meg Anne
“We should play it every morning,” he said, sliding his velvety length along her center.
“Oh,” she groaned, pressing her hips against him to increase the pressure.
She heard his snicker of approval before his hips swiveled and he drove straight into her.
“Oh!” she gasped again, clenching around every pulsing inch of him.
“Look at me,” he demanded as he drove into her.
It was damn near impossible, but she made her eyes focus on his face. There was no need for words. The look in his eyes told her everything he wanted her to know, while the bond reinforced it with its loving heat.
Their frenzied lovemaking was over as quickly as it began, each thrust causing sparks to burst behind her eyelids until she finally lost herself to the ecstasy of his touch. He came with a growl, his teeth biting down into her neck as he spent himself inside her. They stayed there, their hearts thundering in their chests as they held onto each other.
“Now you can go get ready,” he told her, letting her body slide down his until her feet touched the floor.
Helena was proud of herself when her knees only buckled once. “I don’t know who you think you’re giving permission,” she informed him primly. “If I hadn’t wanted you, I wouldn’t have given you the opportunity.”
Von’s eyes were pure molten silver when he replied, “Oh darling, if you think I was going to let you walk away without reminding you who you belong to, you’ve forgotten who I am.”
Helena turned to face him completely. “Who says you were reminding me?” With a wink, she spun back around and headed into the bathroom to enjoy the last handful of moments she had left before leaving to face the darkest part of her soul.
Less than an hour later, Helena was standing on the top of a hill at the westernmost border of Tigaera. There was nothing particularly special about the area, other than being wedged between the Palace and Endoshan. Helena could have cast her illusion anywhere, the location didn’t matter so much as the results, but she felt it would be most believable the closer she was to Rowena’s hidden cemetery.
The sun had just started its rise, and the sky was a brilliant wash of red and orange. It looked as if the sky was on fire, and Helena took that as a good sign, considering what she was about to do.
She heard the rustle of Von’s clothes as he stepped closer to her, laying each of his hands on her shoulders. Her eyes fell closed, savoring the warmth of his touch. He brushed a kiss to the base of her neck and then, without a word, he walked away to give her the space she needed to concentrate.
There was no more putting it off with strategy meetings, or last-minute ceremonies, or lovemaking. The time had come. Helena pulled the golden orb from the hidden pocket in her cloak, the hair of her arms standing on end at the contact.
The orb pulsed with latent power that called to her, hungry for its release. The pool of her power rippled in response like the flow of the tide feeling the pull of the moon. Helena called on her rage, summoning every pain-filled memory to the front of her mind. She shuddered, her body transforming in response to the swift rise of fury. The tips of her fingers became deadly black claws, and even her teeth felt as though they had lengthened. She didn’t give herself time to think before she slashed at her arm with one of the Talyrian claws. Blood rose swiftly, splashing from the gash in her arm and coating the orb.
As soon as her blood made contact, the orb began to glow, shifting from gold to a blinding white. She lifted the orb up, blood still running down her arms and dripping to the ground, before letting go of it entirely. As the orb began to fall, she closed her eyes, shifting her focus as she dove straight into the depths of her power. Helena had never gone that deep that fast, and the rise of power was heady. She could feel her physical body sway, but she did not stop, pushing herself down even deeper.
Distantly, she heard the shattering of glass. That was her cue. Pulling every ounce of power to the surface, Helena opened her eyes and screamed. She screamed for pointless deaths, futures that would never be, and for all the Chosen who had been suffering for so long that their screams had long gone silent with their belief that no one could hear them, or worse, that no one cared. It was the pain of her people that fueled her, and she made herself feel every ugly piece of it.
Birds burst from the trees as thunder began to roll overhead. The sky filled with thick black clouds from which drops of blood began to fall, coating the land in its deep crimson. The earth shook under the assault, the transformation already underway.
Helena did not have to concentrate overly hard on what she wanted. All it took was the echo of three spectral voices in her head for the vision from her trial to bring every gory detail into pristine focus.
‘You have a choice before you.’
‘See the cost of your choice.’
Blood continued to fall from the sky, while the pieces of ash blowing up from the ground further obscured the air. The trees, once vibrant and alive, were now charred skeletons, many of them still on fire. The unearthly wind continued to whip up piles of ash, flinging them into the air until they fluttered like ghostly butterflies. In the face of such destruction, it was almost impossible to see past her hand, but Helena didn’t need to see. She already knew what she would find. The ground was no longer rolling green hills, instead it was endless piles of corpses. She refused to look down, not wanting to be greeted by the faces of the dead. Seeing them once was enough.
She felt his approach before she heard it, and by the time he’d reached her, she was already facing him. Helena watched him fight to keep his face neutral, but she could see her reflection in his eyes. She was a wild thing, more creature than human. Her hair was flying around her while embers flickered at the tips, giving her a fiery halo. Her eyes were not the iridescent color of her power but pits of ebony with shimmering echoes of flame in their depths.
Helena licked her lips, tasting blood and ash. “The eyes can see what the heart knows to be false.” She thought she had whispered the words, but they echoed from every direction as if they had been spoken by a legion.
“Then I shall close my eyes, so I see only what is true,” Von said.
Helena felt herself waver, and blinked a few times before shoving every emotion besides pain and grief into a deeply recessed part of her heart.
“It is time to break the tether.” Again, her words swirled around them while thunder continued to growl in the sky.
Von swallowed but gave no other outward sign of fear. Instead, her beautiful warrior faced her head on and spoke in a controlled voice, “Do your worst and know that I love you.”
If she allowed herself to focus on their bond, she might have felt the flutter of panic when she cast the final, darkest part of the spell. As with before, all it took was a memory of voices.
‘Without the tether, you will fracture.’
‘Eternally lost to the darkness.’
For Rowena to truly fall for Helena’s deception, her bond to Von must appear severed. Von had already known what had to happen when he pulled her aside. His strategist’s mind had seen the play before she ever did. Mostly because it was not something she would ever willingly consider. Once triggered, it would enable them to each experience the one thing with the potential to destroy them both. There was no telling how they would react.
But this was war, and there was no other choice. Everything about the illusion had to be unfailingly convincing. The Kiri and her Mate must truly believe the bond was gone. That required them to actually feel like their bond was gone.
There was no explosion of power this time, just a gasp as Von crumpled to his knees before a loud, keening cry was torn from his throat. “Helena,” he rasped, his eyes staring up at her in horror.
She was merciless, focusing only on what she needed the power to do and not the whimpering voice in the back of her mind pleading with her to end this and find another way.
There was no determining how much time had passed when Von finally labored to his fe
et, his body trembling. When his eyes met hers, they were not the silvery gray that she adored, but a milky white snaking with black.
The illusion had been cast, and the magic was so powerful that by the time Helena was done, even her heart could no longer tell what was true.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Ronan swore under his breath as he stormed down the stairs and walked out to the armory.
“Rough morning?” Reyna asked in a deceptively sweet voice as he rounded the corner. She began to walk beside him, matching his ground-eating stride with ease.
Ronan scowled at her. “They left without us.”
Reyna lifted a brow. “And that surprised you?”
He glared. “Obviously.”
Her brows veed over her eyes and she stopped him with a touch. “She gave us a time and a place to meet her. You had to realize Helena was going to go ahead of us.”
Ronan bit back a slew of harsh words. He’d been so damn preoccupied he hadn’t realized it, and it chafed to no end that Helena and Von had left him behind. He was her Shield damn it. His place was at her side, more so now than ever.
“Whatever,” he muttered, slamming into someone rushing the other way. “Get out of my way,” Ronan snarled. The poor boy who had been carrying armor whimpered and scurried away.
“You’re making children piss themselves now.”
“Children, grown men… what’s the difference?”
“Really, Ronan?” The disappointment in her voice was undeniable.
Ronan stopped again, running a hand along his face. “I’m just on edge.”
“We all are. You’re not the only one heading into this battle.”
He turned to face her, his eyes blazing with blue fire. “Yes, but there’s never been this much at stake before. I’ve fought for Daejara, I’ve fought because I’ve been paid to do it, but never have I been more scared of what happens if I lose.”
“It sounds like it’s the first time you truly cared about the outcome,” Reyna commented softly.
He was about to protest, but she was right. Daejara had been his home, and he’d believed in Von when he’d joined him, but Ronan had never stopped to worry about what tomorrow would bring. If he died in battle, at least he’d go out in a blaze of glory. Now, however, it wasn’t even the thought of his death that had his heart filled with dread. Death would be a mercy if they lost.
Determination had him gritting his teeth. He couldn’t guarantee that no one would die today, but he’d make damn sure that those corrupted pieces of shit would have to go through him before snuffing out the life of another person that had become his family.
“Chosen!” he shouted, causing everyone in the room to freeze mid-act. “Fall out. We leave in ten to meet your Kiri and join the fight for our way of life!”
The room burst into excited cheers and men and women rushed to finish their preparations.
“Spoken like a man who has something to prove,” Reyna said, her eyes looking much softer than they had only moments before.
“Spoken like a man who has something to protect,” he corrected. “It is not our lives she wants, it is our souls. Rowena seeks to destroy all that holds any value to the Chosen. Her victory is not simply the end of us, it is the end of everything. Is that not worth fighting against? Mother’s tits, Reyna. Is that not worth dying to prevent?”
Reyna was quiet, and Ronan could see the flutter of her pulse at her throat. She was not unaffected by his words, although her face remained impassive.
“Oh the hell with it,” she muttered a second before pressing her hands to his cheeks and pulling his face down to hers. When her lips touched his, his heart stuttered. He was frozen for only a heartbeat before his arms slid around her and pulled her lithe body against his.
The kiss was a force of nature, violence and passion colliding as they said with their lips all the things they had not had a chance to express with words.
Reyna pulled back first, panting hard. “You will live today, Shield,” she said fiercely, her forest green eyes burning into his. “I’m not done with you yet.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he whispered, his lips tilting up in a one-sided grin.
Reyna nodded matter-of-factly and disentangled herself from his embrace.
Flickering shadows danced around her body as she walked away, and Ronan found himself staring after her in wonder. Yes, they definitely had some unfinished business.
Ronan stared at the decimated land before him, his eyes wide with shock.
“Well, it will certainly grab Rowena’s attention,” Kragen said, his expression a twin of Ronan’s.
“That’s one way to put it. Have you seen any sign of Helena or Von?”
“Negative,” Kragen replied, shifting to face him. “The others are growing restless. They had not anticipated their gifts were going to be used to create… this.”
Ronan spared a glance at the people who stood as far from the blood and ash covered land as possible. He didn’t blame them. Everything about this place was grating against his senses. The mounds of corpses were especially revolting.
“I almost can’t believe Helena was capable of creating this,” Kragen muttered.
Ronan had no trouble believing it. He remembered watching her as her power sparked out of control. This was what it looked like when that power was not tempered by her love.
“We should make sure that the Chosen remember this is only a trick meant for Rowena. We cannot afford to have them lose faith in Helena.”
Kragen nodded. “It is one thing to be told and another to come face-to-face with the results of said trick. There are likely many that are reconsidering their presence here.”
“It was what she intended, since she needs word to get back to Rowena.”
Kragen sighed. “I know. I will ensure that the message is reinforced so that it is only a few lost instead of an entire army.”
A disturbance in one of the mounds caught his attention, and Ronan squinted, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. One of the corpses was pushing itself up. Wait. That wasn’t a corpse. He would have recognized that sword anywhere. He’d helped forge it. That alone was enough for him to recognize the figure that slowly approached them.
“Mother be merciful,” Ronan whispered, watching what had once been the brother of his heart take slow shuffling steps toward them. “Helena, what have you done?” Even as he knew this had to be part of the illusion, seeing Von’s eyes snaking with the telltale black lines was too much.
Ronan lurched, half running half falling as he raced toward his best friend. “Von!” he shouted, hoping that he would reply and prove that this was only a trick.
The man that had once been Von opened his mouth on an endless scream. That was when Ronan noticed the figure standing in one of the crumbling defense towers in the distance. Her hair billowed around her like she stood at the center of a storm, the ends smoldering embers.
His stomach rolled, and he swallowed hard to avoid being unmanned entirely. It was too much. That couldn’t be the woman he’d bound his life to.
Even from this distance, Ronan could tell that soulless black eyes were staring directly at him. He saw her mouth open, although he was too far to hear the words or read her lips. It didn’t matter. As soon as Von lunged for him, he knew what she had ordered. It had been one, unmistakable word: attack.
“Let me in on the game, brother,” Ronan begged as soon as Von was within hearing distance. “Are we putting on a show for the others?”
Ronan watched in horror as the man who had been more than a brother to him came after him, holding nothing back as he began to fight, not as a warrior but as a Shadow. At first, Ronan clung to the belief that this was all part of the elaborate scheme, and his moves were entirely defensive, but as soon as Von bit into the side of his arm and pulled back with a piece of flesh, Ronan knew they were doomed.
It may have started off as an illusion, but somewhere along the way, Helena had been lost to the darkness. It was the only ex
planation.
He pushed Von, or what was left of him, away with a snarl and eased himself into a fighting stance. The one thing he still had going for him was that he had fought Von hundreds of times, he knew without conscious thought how and where his friend would strike. For all that Von had lost his mind, his instincts were still intact.
“Alright, you bastard. Let’s dance.”
The next time Von lunged, Ronan pounced, and the two men met in the air before falling to the ground in a tangle of limbs. They fought brutally, holding nothing back as they traded blows. That was nothing new, they’d always pushed each other to the limits, knowing it was necessary to keep them primed for battle. The only difference this time was it wasn’t in the name of practice.
This time, the battle was real.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Rowena stared at the trembling messenger in disbelief. A bubble of something that must be happiness rose in her chest, but the feeling was so foreign, Rowena didn’t recognize it. “Say that again,” she demanded.
“It is as I said, My Queen. The prophecy has been fulfilled. Even now, the Mother’s Vessel is in Endoshan commanding her own army of Shadows into attacking the Chosen army. As one falls, she turns them, using the dead to create a new army.”
Rowena fell back in her makeshift throne, her fingers lifting to her lips as a breathless laugh bubbled up. She had won. Her fingers traced her lips, feeling them lift in an unfamiliar smile.
“Bring me my husband,” she ordered.
The messenger bowed and swiftly exited the cavern she had claimed as her throne room.
It was done. She had won. Rowena knew it was only a matter of time, but now that it was here… her thoughts continued to chase each other, each one bringing with it a buoyant joy she hadn’t experienced since the birth of her twins. Back when the sniveling traitors meant something to her.
“My Queen?” Kai-Soren called as he walked in.