Blood Drenched Conquest (Ryze Book 3)

by N. Isabelle Blanco

  It’s like humanity’s fiber optic tubes, I realize, awestruck. Unlike ours, though, I can see the information flying through.

  Or maybe with my new senses I’ll be able to see it on Earth as well.

  Taking in more of the scenery, I decide to walk straight ahead, taking in the sci-fi yet tribal sense of this insane city.

  Another few blocks and I pass a gorgeous park. The lush plant life, so similar yet so different from Earth’s, surrounds a circular area, like the courtyards on Enzyria. Unlike Earth, the plant life here have rivulets of shimmering water intertwined with them, almost as if by design.

  A large group of adolescent mind Erenceis sit cross-legged on the ground of the park, their eyes closed in meditation. Standing before them, a beautiful, gray-haired but young-looking female also has her eyes closed.

  They have their right hand raised, as humans do when swearing an oath.

  Their white-and-black demon markings seem to writhe, but it’s the circle of light rotating rapidly on their foreheads that draws my attention.

  My lips part. Holy crap, are they . . . yeah. They are. They’re silently communicating with each other.

  Or, to be more exact, the female standing at the head of the group is communicating with the rest of them.

  So fucking cool.

  That light on their foreheads must only come out when they’re processing information.

  Have I stumbled upon some kind of school lesson? My mind can barely keep up with all the new things I’m seeing.

  “You know, we have water like that on Enzyria.”

  I tense from head-to-toe at the sound of that voice.

  At the memories it conjures.

  “No one acts that way. Who does that to someone that means everything to them?”

  “An idiotic, fourteen-thousand-year-old male whore who’s set in his ways. I’m so fucking sorry. If you only knew how far I’m willing to go to make it up to you.”

  Yeah, because being a male whore somehow excuses what he did to me? The fuck outta here with that bullshit.

  “I’ll have to show it to you one day.”

  Pendejo. How the hell did he manage to find me? I don’t ask because I don’t give a damn, I remind myself. “I’m more than capable of seeing it on my own. Now please leave me alone.” It’s as polite as I can be, considering the burning rage crawling up my throat.

  “I’ll give you nearly anything, baby, but that one’s a no-go.”

  Did he sound closer this time? Don’t doubt it. “When have I heard a line like that before?” I mumble to myself, sarcasm dripping in my tone.

  I sense him coming nearer, as if his aura is caressing my skin. “I understand why you might feel the need to compare me to them, but it isn’t the same, Sol.”

  Putting distance between us has never been this necessary. “You’re right, Ianthen. As far as I know, none of them left my body to go be with another minutes after the fact.”

  I leave before he can reply, traveling blindly and uncaring of where I land.

  I just need to stay away from him, for my sake as well as those around me.

  Giving into the explosion of rage in my gut is exactly what Conquest wants me to do.

  The next day

  IANTHEN

  An entire night with no sleep. Normally, that wouldn’t mean shit. In my current state? Permanent lightheadedness is a given.

  Soleria didn’t sleep last night, either. How do I know? Crouched like some fucked-up gargoyle on her balcony ledge, I watched her from behind a Gnetica, aware of why she was refusing to rest.

  To avoid the possibility of sharing another dream with me.

  Maintaining my position was impossible. At one point, those hellish, evil replays teased the corners of my mind, playing with the near rabid creature in me. I tried to push them back, and for the most part I succeeded, but not before getting enough of a glimpse to know what I was seeing.

  Sol, in a club with Ricky, wearing no underwear under her skirt as he took her in a dark corner.

  I barely made it to my room on time. Barely managed to keep the Gnetica around me, hiding the sounds of my retching from the occupant in the room next door. The fury that consumed me, the ache in my chest . . . that’s my female, mine, and because of the R’mannev and her rejection, I’m trapped seeing her lover owning her in ways I can’t.

  If it hadn’t been for Zexistr showing up halfway through and hitting me with a dose of his own healing abilities, I probably wouldn’t be on my feet right now.

  These cuffs definitely aren’t enough anymore. Fucked up, since it’s only been a few days.

  Now, as I arrive in Katgin’s main hall, where everyone else is gathered, I’m nothing but a ball of misery, possessiveness, and the instinct to hunt, to kill, is strangling me. Every mated instinct demands I hunt down Ricardo Bautista and murder him for having ever touched Sol.

  Yeah, okay. Then I’ll go after Nick, Stephen . . . all of them.

  “This way,” Asgaix’s voice booms, drawing my attention.

  We follow him and his guards through a fifty-foot archway into what looks like a throne room and command center all-in-one. Every technological advancement imaginable—as well as some that confuse even me—seems to be available in this place.

  Including their own version of the viewing chamber; a gigantic, quartz window overlooking the entire universe. Asgaix’s throne, although I know he refuses to call it such, sits on the highest pedestal in the room, right below the angled window. It affords him not only a direct view of it, but a bird’s eye view of the entire command chamber.

  A male appears before Asgaix and our precession halts immediately. His gold uniform with the pulsing teal energy lines gives him away even before his teal-on-black eyes and markings do.

  The peace Erencei envoy has arrived.

  Those freaky teal irises move around our little group, taking us in. Very few beings in the universe have teal eyes.

  Just like Talila’s.

  A fact I practically feel registering in Sol’s mind. She’s half-a-dozen feet from me, but that doesn’t mean I don’t pick up on how she tenses.

  I want her out of here. Want to take her far, far away from any reminders of that night. Of the way I broke her heart.

  The biggest reminder is your fucking face, dumbass.

  “Eytel, thank you for joining us,” Asgaix greets, ever the diplomat.

  Eytel faces him. “I have to be honest with you, Asgaix. The entire council is agitated. Tranquility is now once again Vengeance, word has reached us of how vicious his mate, Justice, can be . . . and there stands the new holder of Conquest, a volatile hybrid rumored to be after Cilpera’s war demon crown.”

  “So gossip travels even faster in the immortal world,” Eve grits out.

  I’m too busy growling at the way Eytel’s talking about my female to voice my agreement. As a matter of fact, I’m sick and fucking tired of how everyone speaks about her. As if she’s responsible for what Desian decided to do with his powers.

  “And”—Eytel’s eyes cut to me—“apparently we also need to worry about the future queen’s rabid werewolf guard dog.”

  “Also a god, Erencei,” I murmur.

  “As if we would ever forget it, Hunt.”

  “He is not my guard—”

  Zexistr cuts into Soleria’s protest. “As I’m sure you remember, Ey, I’m Existence and hold supreme status over all. Are you really going to make me demand Zeniel’s entry into Zethal?” The question is silky smooth, accompanied by his pierced, dimpled smile.

  Soleria, appearing stunned at the sight of it, raises her brows. “Those dimples are meant to destroy females.”

  Right as my lips peel back with a snarl, and my mind fixates on the ways I can gut Existence of all beings, Eytel’s voice pierces through.

  “That won’t be necessary, Zexistr. The Watcher already beat you to it and she can be quite convincing when she needs to be.”

  “What the fuck did she promise you?”

>   Eytel’s enigmatic smile gives nothing away. “Nothing you need to concern yourself about. But before Zeniel can be allowed in, there are some things you all should know.”

  Chapter 35

  One week later

  IANTHEN

  W here is Existence?

  I’m hit with déjà vu as the thought registers. He left me here a few hours ago, determined to drag Vedlyl back with him.

  After watching over me as I spent the better part of the last week deteriorating, I don’t blame him. I saw how each wave of sickness that went through me affected him. There’s no way seeing me like this isn’t making him think about it.

  Isn’t making him wonder.

  Just how far did his human’s illness progress before it finally killed her all those millennia ago?

  If Ved doesn’t have something ready to help me, it’s only a matter of days before I’m lost. Crippled by visions, illness, and blood loss.

  Dying of an R’mannev is one of the most fucked up ways to go. Combine that with an unrequited Hyren bonding death—where my body will shrivel up from the inside as I die—and I’m sure my death will be one for the history books.

  Except, I can’t allow that to happen. I can’t die naturally. My powers will bounce back into the universe and fuck shit up.

  Zex will have to end it.

  He knows it as much as I do, although we haven’t discussed it.

  And I’m sure as hell not asking Cyake to be the one to do it. No. You’ll just be asking his identical brother.

  To make matters worse, our entry into both East and South Eren has been delayed.

  Cilpera shut down all entrances to Sethrax, the realm of the war demons. Obviously, news of Conquest heading her way reached her.

  And she knows damn well that Crius and Hades won’t be too far behind. They let her be all this time due to the treaty.

  Unfortunately for her, her own allies pretty much tore that apart. There’s nothing protecting her from their wrath. A wrath that’s been fifteen millenia in the making.

  However, according to Eytel, there might be someone who can still get us in. He wouldn’t tell us who until the “negotiations” are completed and everything is confirmed.

  Zeniel is meeting with the entire peace Erencei council in a few days—all one-hundred delegates. Eytel didn’t say anything, but we’re all aware of the truth.

  He needs to convince them he remains firmly in control of his powers of Tranquility.

  Speaking of the Watcher, where the fuck is she? No one’s heard from her in over a week. Not even Vedlyl.

  And the twins have gone missing, too, presumably incommunicado on whatever mission Nylicia sent them on.

  “Miss me?”

  I twitch on the bed at the sound of Zex’s voice. Didn’t even notice him appear.

  Vedly isn’t too far behind, a leather duffel in his hand. He takes one look at me, prostrated on this bed, and whistles under his breath. “A few days away from me and look at you.”

  I ignore his jab. “How’s my sister?” I ask, because being away from her is not only getting to me, but my worry for her is as well. After all, I can feel her through our connection whenever she allows it to remain open.

  Kain’s closing in on her. She feels it with every fiber of her being. Meaning I can feel it, too.

  I always envisioned I would be there for her if this happened, would track down the bastard and stop whatever plans he has for her. Instead, here I am, consumed by own self-fulfilled destiny.

  Vedlyl drops his duffel on the bed next to me. “She’s back on Enzyria with Makayla. The human is actually really kind, when her other side isn’t engaged.”

  “Her powers are online already?”

  “Not fully, but they sprouted their own personality inside her years ago.” Dematerializing my shirt, he grabs my arms, his intent clear. “Time to replace these with the upgrades.”

  “Throw up a Gnetica,” I tell Zex.

  “Why? She isn’t in the other room.”

  “She could come at any moment. If those fuckers are about to come off, I want a guarantee she won’t hear whatever is about to happen.”

  His quadruple-colored eyes narrow. “Maybe it’s best that she knows. Thought of that? She’s hurt you went to another female, but if she knew you now belong only to her—”

  “She’ll still hate me for what I did. Understandably. The last thing I want is that female feeling obligated to try being with me out of guilt. And it won’t matter anyway unless she were to mate with me in return.”

  “He has a point,” Vedlyl agrees.

  “Fuck. Fine.” The air momentarily pulses with shimmering light.

  “Okay. We’re going to do this as fast as we can.” Grabbing onto the middle cylinder of the cuffs, Ved stares at me with those color-changing pupils on full blast. “Ready?”

  I’ve barely finished nodding when the first cuff comes off.

  My body jackknife’s on the bed, my jaw unhinging on a scream, seconds before the seizure hits.

  And the vomiting.

  “Grab him Zex! Turn his face over so he doesn’t choke on his blood.”

  Heavy hands grab me, one turning my face. The second cuff is removed—

  Sheer agony. Every single symptom that was somewhat controlled slams into me at once.

  Dark spots dance in my vision. All I feel is the burn in my gut, the even more intense burn on the left side of my body. All I hear is my screams and Zex’s voice as if far away.

  “Holy fuck. Look at the size of that mating mark. That big already?”

  “He’s a primal god, mated and bonded. We’re talking about the super-mating to outdo all others. Consider yourself lucky you’ll never have to deal with this.”

  “A lot of good that does me.”

  The bed shifts next to me and I feel a sharp pain as something slides into my forearm. Zex moves on the bed, adjusting himself, and presses down on my shoulders again.

  More pain, right next to the first prick. Followed by another. And another.

  I lose count of how many pricks, how many insertions.

  My mind spirals open into that dark abyss, where nothing but those replays await. Ricky, in Sol’s house, fucking her on her fucking bed. The one I dreamed about having her on. The one I didn’t get to claim any more than the female herself.

  A second roar leaves me, born of pure fury—

  All at once, every single symptom disappears, as if sucked into a vacuum.

  Doesn’t change anything. I continue roaring, the wolf inside me competing with its own howls.

  It isn’t until Zex rubs his hand between my shoulder blades that my scream cuts off. “Easy there, bro. Just breathe.”

  “Oh gods, Zex. All I see is her with him. The images . . . they’re so real. All the details . . . the sounds . . .” I finally realize what I must be doing to him with my rambling.

  The images of his human’s death I must be putting in his head.

  His hand starts shaking on my back. He removes it quickly, but it isn’t lost on me.

  Vedlyl grabs me, scanning the new additions on my inner forearms.

  Staples?

  Huge-ass, glowing staples.

  “Damn.” Ved exhales with wonder. “These work even better than the cuffs. Just like she said they would. A new design in a matter of days.” He shakes his head, smiling, his eyes flashing with pride.

  And that love we all know he feels for Nylicia.

  Zexistr stands. “How much knowledge must a being have to understand the symptoms well enough to create those?”

  Vedlyl turns away without answering.

  But Zex isn’t going to drop it. His obsession with locating the Watcher is almost as twisted as his obsession to get his human back—because, to him, it’s one and the same. Only Nylicia, with her power to see destiny, can help him. “I hardly ever call you this anymore . . . but answer the question, Uncle. Better yet, answer this: How did she come by this knowledge? I’m starting to suspect the ans
wer to that. Personally.”

  That comment seems to ignite Vedlyl’s anger. Eyes flashing red, he snatches the duffel off the bed. “Obviously you just guessed the answer to your question, nephew. For your sake, I hope you stop fucking digging, since I doubt you can handle where this road leads.” His mouth gapes, pupils shrinking with shock.

  On this bed, I’m just as immobilized, disbelief ringing in my mind. He just spit out an entire sentence about the Watcher to Zex. Considering there’s usually that annoying block in the way, our surprise is understandable.

  The way Vedlyl goes pale with dread, however, is not.

  He’s gone before either one of us can question him. No doubt hightailing it back to Enzyria.

  “I’m surprised you’re not following him,” I say.

  Grumbling, Zex admits, “I swore to my brother to watch out for you. ‘Stick to your ass as thoroughly as he would’, and all that. Consider me the new and improved Cy 2.0, all the glitches fixed. Perfect, streamlined performance.”

  I snort at that unbearably cocky profile of his. “Perfect, streamlined annoyance, you mean.”

  “Whatever.” Those dimples flash. “Either way you’re stuck with me.”

  “I meant what I said before. About helping you with your insane quest and all that.”

  He heads to a blue chair feet from the bed. Like everything else here, thin tubes light up the edges—a “smart chair”, as the humans would call it, awaiting a command. Zex simply settles on it, crossing one leg over his denim-clad knee. “Why the sudden interest?”

  I settle back on the ridiculously large pillows, grateful for a distraction. Sure, these new staples, for lack of a better term, are working wonders for my physical symptoms, but internally I feel raw.

  Shredded.

  Flayed.

  It never mattered to me what any female thought if she saw me with a new lover. I never promised them more, so why should it? But what I did to Sol? That shit mattered the moment I broke free of my rabid Hyren senses and realized I was kissing the wrong female.

  It sure as shit mattered the moment she appeared, and I saw the horror in her eyes.