Birthright (The Stone Legacy Series Book 5)

by Theresa Dalayne

  “He’s dangerous,” Contessa pleaded. “Help me and I’ll get you all out of here.”

  “Shut up,” Zanya snapped. “You deserve everything you get.”

  “Perhaps. But what will become of your comrades? He is no longer the man you once knew. You can see that for yourself. He is going to kill us all.”

  “Aye,” Beigarth said in a soft tone. “I wouldn’t be one to agree with the hoor, but he isn’t the same lad, now, is he?”

  “Arwan.” Zanya bit her lip. “I know you’re in there. I know you are. It’s just this place…”

  “This is where he wants to be,” her mother said. “Don’t you get that?”

  “No!” Tears stung her eyes. “I don’t believe that. I can’t.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Arwan

  Arwan tried to focus, but it was nearly impossible with the storm raging inside him. Contessa was in his grasp, lying at his feet. He was going to end her here. Now. Just like he did Sarian. This time, he didn’t need to change into a beast to do it.

  Then Zanya appeared and his entire world came undone.

  Heat rose from the scalded ground, forming a distant mirage of the sea in the distance. Was she a mirage? Or perhaps Contessa had conjured her to break his focus.

  Arwan glared and tightened his grip, making Contessa screech and coil into a ball. That was it. Zanya couldn’t be real. Not in this realm. There was no way for her to gain access without him when Jayden didn’t bleed. And the others…they couldn’t have made it.

  “We should go,” her mother said. “We can’t stay here much longer. The heat.” She peered up at hell’s sun, trapped under the roots of Yaxche. “It’s too intense.”

  Zanya shook her head, sending stray hairs to feather around her neck and cheeks. “Not without him.”

  Her mother cringed away from the bright light above them. “He doesn’t want to come with us. We need to leave.”

  “Zanya is right,” Renato said. “We cannot give up on him.”

  Arwan stepped aside. Everyone in the group leapt back as if they were terrified of him. Maybe they were.

  Everyone except Zanya.

  Her feet were mounted in place, her gaze never wavering. “Come home with me.” She stretched her hand out. “We need you.” Her throat visibly tightened. “I need you.”

  Arwan examined her hand. He’d seen it a thousand times—memorized the lines in her palm and the warmth of her touch.

  But his Zanya would have touched him without hesitation.

  They had to be an elaborate hoax.

  “Yo, jungle boy.” Jayden’s voice was like a flute playing off key, scratching at his ears. “We’re here to break you out, but you have to make a choice.” He tried to shelter Eleuia from the full force of the sun. “And quick, because most of us won’t last long. We put ourselves in a shit-ton of risk to find you.”

  “You’re not real.” Arwan glared. “None of you. You can’t be.” He yanked Contessa to her feet, pulling a scream from her lungs. “Make them go away.”

  “It was not me who brought them here. It was you.”

  “Liar.” He threw her back to the ground.

  Contessa held her scalp. “No, my lord. Not this time.”

  “My lord?” Zanya shifted toward her. “What the hell did you do to him?”

  “I did nothing he did not desire.” Contessa’s body shook as she struggled to stand. “Do you not see, young guardian? Your love, your soul mate, he is mine now. The underworld has claimed him.”

  Arwan cocked his head, admiring Zanya’s soft smile. Even though she wasn’t real, he would take this brief moment to enjoy her beauty, and remember the moments they had together—when he was still the man she fell in love with.

  “He’s free to go where he wants,” Zanya said in a soft, gentle tone. “But no matter where he is,” she reached out and touched his cheek, “he’ll always be mine.”

  A rush of breath escaped his lungs and his vision cleared of the violet fog. Her touch, her warmth—it brought him back to reality. She’d found his humanity for him, and brought it back.

  He rested his hand over hers, splayed over his cheek. “Zanya. How…?”

  She took his hand and led it to her belly. “It has its advantages.”

  Arwan had nearly forgotten. Their baby.

  Contessa was right. If it weren’t for him being there, Zanya never would have come after him He blinked, as if clearing cobwebs from his mind. “What am I doing here?”

  “I don’t know, but it’s time to come home.”

  Home.

  His mother’s home, in the middleworld, with the ones he loved—and who loved him. That was where he truly belonged. Heat simmered and bubbled in his gut. “You.” He turned to Contessa. “You commanded the tree to force me here.”

  “Perhaps.” She stood up straight and smoothed the creases in her dress. “But it is you who wanted to stay.”

  “Can we just kill this bitch and get out of here?” Jayden shouted. “Please?” Jayden looked at the others. “Seriously. I’m okay since I’m already dead, but I don’t know how much longer they’ll last in this heat.”

  Tiny, fluid-filled bubbles rose on Renato’s arms and forehead. Red and angry, his skin would begin to peel if he didn’t escape soon.

  Arwan tilted his chin to the hole overhead that led to the middleworld. “The tree can take us back if I order it to do so. We can all go—”

  Zanya’s scream sent a shockwave through the air. Arwan looked to see Contessa’s arm wrapped around her, holding a jagged rock to her throat. “You will not leave,” the witch spat.

  Arwan stepped forward, the darkness flooding his veins once again. “Let her go.”

  “Stay with me. Stay and I will allow her to leave with her life.”

  Zanya’s eyes were wide as she stood perfectly still, gripping Contessa’s forearm with one hand and protecting her belly with the other.

  Arwan scowled. “If you do not release her, I will end you.”

  Contessa’s expression changed. The color drained from her face, leaving her like a pale doll.

  He would tear the witch apart with his bare hands before he let her hurt Zanya. That was what it had come to. Arwan balled his fists. “As you wi—”

  Before he could finish his sentence, Contessa pushed Zanya toward him and dropped the blade.

  Zanya stumbled forward and clung to Arwan.

  Contessa’s lips trembled with a smile. “My lord.” She bowed, spreading her dress, displaying a low curtsy.

  Arwan growled. “Stop calling me that.”

  “What makes you believe I am referring to you?”

  A slither crawled through Arwan’s gut. He grabbed hold of Zanya and poised his mouth beside her ear. “Stay behind me. Do you understand?”

  She nodded, terror streaked through her features.

  Arwan turned to face the one man he despised more than anyone.

  His father, King of the Underworld.

  “After all these years.” The king stepped forward. “After all of my efforts. You are home.” He was a massive man with a dark, full beard and eyes burning like red embers. Hellhounds flanked him on either side. Muscular and bare of any fur, their jaws dripped with white froth. One dog growled and snapped at Jayden, who leapt back.

  Zanya’s mother clung to Renato. Boils from hell’s sun had blemished her skin. Arwan had never seen this reaction to the underworld, but then, Zanya had the ability to heal, and he was native to that realm. Perhaps all Riyata were not immune to the severe conditions.

  He’d be surprised if she stayed on her feet another minute.

  It was a mistake for them to come.

  They would all die.

  The king examined the failing group, his sights stopping on Zanya. “Why have you come here?” His voice was baritone and rough. “What are you doing in my realm?” His royal cape dragged behind him, leaving flames streaked over the ground in his wake.

  “He’s come to sabotage our missi
on,” Contessa said in a rush, hurrying to the king’s side. She wound her arm around his and took her place beside him, as if she belonged there.

  As if she weren’t just trying to seduce Arwan into taking her as his queen.

  Contessa locked eyes with him. “He’s come to overthrow you, my lord. I stopped him by holding his love—the Stone Guardian—captive beneath a blade.”

  His father observed the group for a long, silent moment, then examined the rest of the realm—quiet and vacant of underworlders. “What has happened here? Why are there no damned souls in this realm?”

  “You didn’t know,” Arwan said, almost under his breath.

  Arwan stole a glance at Zanya, who seemed to be holding up well enough. The effect of the sun did little damage before her healing ability kicked in and mended her wounds. As for the others, they continued to fade.

  The king turned his head and looked Contessa in the eyes. “Explain.”

  Her hand shook as she pointed at Arwan. “Your son has traveled here to rob you of your crown. It is mutiny, my lord. He is desperate to save his pitiful comrades from our plot to seize the middleworld. He is here to put an end to our reign. You must destroy him.”

  His father’s eyes moved to Arwan.

  They never wavered.

  Never faltered.

  “Why are you really here?” The king let go of Contessa and walked toward him. The closer he was, the more heat radiated from his body.

  Arwan examined his features. He had inherited the king’s sharp jawline.

  “I was brought here,” Arwan said. “Your queen tried to seduce me and convince me to overthrow you.”

  “Is that so?” He ran his hand over his beard while nodding.

  “Lies, my lord. I would never do such a thing.”

  “Says a damned whore,” the king snarled.

  Contessa did not dare respond.

  The king stopped in front of him, nearly toe to toe. Barely taller than Arwan, the raw power he possessed dwarfed him in comparison.

  “You must act, my lord.” Contessa’s eyes rolled with violet magic. “Do not appear weak. Do something!”

  The king tilted his head, examining Arwan. “All I have ever wanted is for you to return and claim your rightful place as my son, prince of this realm. Have you come to fulfill my wish?” His features turned to stone, and the heat around him flared with intensity. “Or have you come to die?”

  The hellhounds bared their teeth and growled, sending strings of froth to the floor.

  “I do not belong here.”

  “You belong only here. This realm runs through your veins. This is your home.”

  Arwan looked back at Zanya, who worked to heal the others from their burns.

  Arwan shook his head. “No. I belong with her.”

  When his father turned, Arwan used the moment of distraction and commanded the tree to take the group to safety. Roots exploded from the ground and coiled around their bodies. A collection of screams filled the air.

  The king raised his hand, stopping the tree from moving any further. He turned back to Arwan. “You may be the rightful prince, but I am the king. Your word does not trump mine in my own realm.” He clenched his fists, and the roots tightened around each person.

  Beigarth grabbed hold of the tree limb imprisoning him and turned it to stone. With one mighty blow of the Viking’s fists, the dead remains shattered and scattered to the ground.

  The king grinned, as if amused by the show of strength. “A petrifier. How clever.”

  “Not clever, ye bas.” Beigarth rolled up his sleeves. “The end of ye is what I am.”

  “Beigarth!” Zanya screamed.

  The king flicked his wrist, sending one of his hounds after its first target. Beigarth crouched and poised his hands like a football player. When the hound leapt, the impact took Beigarth down with a heavy thud.

  With the king once again distracted, Arwan commanded the roots to bring the others to the safety of the middleworld.

  “I’ll kill you! I’ll take everything!” Contessa’s shrill scream was the last thing he heard before a blade tore into his flesh.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Zanya

  The tree yanked her mother through the air and out of sight, back to the middleworld.

  Jayden was next. His arms flailed as the root carried him through the passage above.

  She couldn’t leave Arwan behind. Zanya shocked the roots, loosening their grasp enough for her to slide out of their hold and fall to the solid ground.

  Beigarth still struggled with the hellhound. The beast was on top of him, snarling and snapping at Beigarth’s face. The Viking grabbed the hound’s upper and lower jaw, his muscles bulging as he forced the beast’s mouth open. The hound thrashed and screeched until there was a loud snap. It let out a high-pitched whine, still struggling to escape. Beigarth scrambled to his feet and laid his hands on the underworld beast, and transformed it to stone.

  The Viking picked up the petrified hound and launched it through the air at the second beast, which leapt out of the way before its stone companion crashed to the ground and shattered into dust.

  “Help Renato,” Zanya shouted. She’d healed him already, but Beigarth seemed to be more resilient against the unrelenting sun than the others.

  “Aye!” The Viking ran to his side, but Renato pushed him away.

  “Get back,” Renato ordered, struggling with the vines wound around his torso. Renato snapped one of the roots in half, but more replaced it—more than he could fight off.

  Zanya scrambled to her feet and ran toward Arwan, who was now bleeding on the ground.

  Contessa loomed behind him with the pointed, scarlet-stained rock still in her hand.

  Just feet away, the witch’s gaze flickered to Zanya, ordering roots to grab her ankles. When it snagged her, she lurched forward and smacked to the ground.

  Contessa stared down at Arwan with a wild gleam in her eyes. “If you will not grant me your darkness, I will at least take your soul!” She plunged the blade into his back a second time. He shouted and arched his spine, contorting his body as he desperately attempted to reach the wound.

  She brought the weapon down another time, tearing into his neck.

  Blood splattered over her face, raining scarlet on the dusty ground.

  She dropped the pointed rock and straddled him, grasping his face in her hands, digging her nails into his skin. She pinned her lips to his, then opened her mouth wide and forced him down to the ground.

  Arwan fought against her, but being wounded and bleeding, was too weak to push her off.

  A high-pitched hiss screamed out of her, accompanied by a fog of darkness seeping from her nostrils like a smoking gun.

  Arwan flailed, kicking his legs and digging his heels into the ground.

  “No!” Zanya conjured electricity in her hand, turning it to a ball of inferno. She pitched it at Contessa, but missed.

  Blood pumped from Arwan’s wounds as Contessa’s attack continued.

  “Stop!” Zanya kicked at the tree, but it was too strong. She reached out to him. “Stop, please.” The last word dribbled from her throat in a watery sob. She pulled at the roots coiled around her ankles and delivered another shock, but after all of her efforts, her abilities were weakening.

  There was nothing she could do to reach him.

  A root from the tree rose near Arwan and slithered toward him. Zanya’s eyes widened. “No, no, no!” The tree would consume him while Contessa did the same. He’d be eaten from all angles, from the inside out and the outside in, leaving nothing for her to bury.

  When the root reached him, it paused and moved away from the gash in his neck.

  Zanya exhaled.

  It moved away…

  The root projected up and punched a hole in Contessa’s gut.

  She let go of Arwan and gasped, letting out a gurgled scream. She scratched and slapped at the vine while still straddling Arwan.

  The vine pushed deeper into
her core. Her eyes widened.

  Blood dribbled from the corner of her mouth.

  The king walked toward Contessa, his remaining hound at his side. “You dare to martyr my son?” His eyes flashed red.

  A wave of heat smacked into Zanya from the king’s anger.

  He pounded his chest. “You dare strip my only heir away from me?”

  “My lord,” Contessa wheezed.

  “Stop speaking, you betraying whore.” The king lifted his hand and twisted it in the air, directing the tree further inside her.

  Contessa convulsed and groaned, her mouth gaping. He grabbed her by the hair and pulled her back, throwing her off Arwan. She screamed the best she could as her breaths quickened.

  Her lips quivered.

  A thin vine crawled out of her nose and felt its way across her face.

  “I do not need you by my side,” the king said. “You were mere entertainment—a plaything for my pleasure.” He looked down at Arwan, half-dead and lying in a pool of his own blood. “You dare steal his soul, as if he were one of the many mortals you consumed in the middleworld to keep your pathetic body alive?” He craned his neck and stared down at her. “Time for play is over.” He gestured to his hound, who leapt forward and tore into Contessa. More roots from the tree crawled from her mouth, filling her throat and cutting off her air. Her eyes grew wide as tiny capillaries burst, turning her entire eye red.

  The hound yanked and peeled away her flesh, thrashing its head, pulling wet clumps of twisted innards onto the ground.

  Zanya turned her head and closed her eyes, but couldn’t block the sound of the hound feasting on Contessa’s organs.

  She struggled against the roots again, but her energy was draining faster than she could compensate. Her healing ability protected her from the sun’s scalding heat, but with the life growing inside of her, healing Renato, and using a mixture of her other abilities, she had nothing left.

  ***

  Arwan

  Every breath sent a sharp stab to his lungs. Life continued to drain from his neck. He was fading…

  Arwan lay on the ground, watching Zanya just feet away. He managed to reach out to her, streaking blood over the dusty soil. All he wanted was to hold her in his last moments.