by Mary Auclair
Something flashed in the blue eyes of the Eok, but the Ilarian guard stepped in front of him, motioning with his ionic gun.
“We have orders to shoot him if he doesn’t comply.” The Ilarian’s toneless voice echoed the despair of the Eok’s eyes. “Knut needs him able to talk, but he doesn’t need arms for that.”
The Eok tilted his head like the words were a slap. It was faint, but Khal saw the gesture.
“What of my bloodmate? What of Hazel?” Khal asked.
“She will die,” Affek whispered. “He will use and abuse her, to force you to comply with whatever he demands of you, then he will kill her and blame it all on you. That is how he plans to turn the Ring’s opinion against our kind after he overturns Prime Councilor Aav.”
Khal reined in his instinct to attack. The hiss died in his throat as he understood the depth of Gerkin’s betrayal, the twisted cunning of Knut’s plans.
He was going to blow up the Ring’s headquarters, wiping out the Mantrillas’ home planet and the Avonies’ home planet at the same time. Then he was going to use widespread public rage to get rid of the only other warrior race capable of standing up to him.
And Khal wasn’t going to be able to stop him. Because whatever Knut might do, he would not be able to see Hazel suffer.
We are lost. Knut has already won.
Chapter 24
Hazel
She was tired of fighting, but she didn’t stop. As Gerkin dragged her roughly through the hallways of the gray building by the scruff of her neck, she screeched and kicked, making as much noise as she could.
She was going to die, but she wasn’t going to die easily.
It didn’t affect Gerkin much. The Eok dragged her behind him, his face set in dark, hungry lines. He wasn’t happy to be denied his prize, but he was following whatever orders Knut gave him.
Finally, the door opened to blazing red sunlight, bathing a vast square made of stone in a harsh heat. It rippled off the ground in suffocating, dancing waves like the mad embrace of death. The benevolent shade of the Medina and the loving caress of the grassland were long gone memories from this place that Knut had built for his Ilarian army.
This is where I’m going to die.
Gerkin walked to the center of the square which was filled with Ilarian guards, all standing to attention. They were like a never-ending sea of bodies, standing in groups made up of neat rows and columns, faces devoid of emotions. Devoid of willpower, devoid of souls.
The sheer size of Knut’s Ilarian army was crushing and yet, he was only beginning. He would use Muhar to continue producing his Ilarian clones once he got rid of the Muharee, turning the entire planet into a factory of death and misery.
Finally, Gerkin dropped her roughly on the stones, kicking her in the ribs for good measure. Hazel fell forward, scraping her palms on the rocks, but quickly got her balance back. She rested on her knees, bracing her hands against the ground as she scanned the assembled crowd.
There were Zaxis and Celaith, huddled together under the dispassionate watch of two Ilarian guards. Celaith looked unconscious, and from that distance, Hazel had no idea if she was even still alive. Her face had a deadly pallor, and Zaxis cradled her against his chest with something akin to despair.
Not too far away was Roohl. The Cattelan captain of the Mother lay face-down in a pool of his own blood, the back of his skull exploded, exposing the brain inside. What was left of it.
Dead. And soon, it’ll be us.
Then she locked gazes with a Prussian blue set of eyes blazing with fury.
“Hazel!” Khal called out to her, but he was chained by his wrists with Allurium, bolted to the rock of the ground with a chain that seemed made for a creature ten times his size. Around him, four other Eoks stood, stone faced and cold, each armed with an ionic gun. Including Gerkin, this made five Eoks in total.
Where are the rest of them? Where’s the garrison of Garana?
Hazel tried to get up but another figure blocked her.
Tall and wrapped in white, Knut looked like he had just won the lottery. His features radiated satisfaction and a true, deep joy. A joy that could only mean one thing.
Pain was about to follow.
Knut walked over to Hazel, his face assuming a parody of sadness as he knelt in front of her, scrunching his nose like he regretted what he was about to say.
“I’m so sorry to see you end this way, my dear, I truly am.” Knut reached for her hair, rubbing a strand between his fingers. “But you can rest easy in the knowledge that this sacrifice is going to be the key to my plan. In fact, nothing could have been more perfect than your intrusion on the Myrador. Now, the last obstacle to my reign is about to fall. It’s a shame neither you nor your bloodmate will live to see it.”
Knut pulled harshly on the hair still trapped between his fingers. Hazel tried to keep her face from showing pain, but she knew it did. The sickness in his soul gleamed in his eyes as he peered down at her.
“No? Still no scream? How I would have enjoyed breaking you!” Annoyance brimmed in his voice, then regret. His purple eyes turned to Khal. “So, what is it going to be, Commander Khal? Are you ready to contact Prime Councilor Aav and tell her that you have captured me and the bomb? That you’re going to come back aboard the Mother, whose entire crew was tragically killed by the savage Muharee people?”
Silence filled the air as Khal glared at Knut. His Prussian blue eyes gleamed with bloodlust, with a burning hatred, but Khal remained silent.
“No?” Knut’s lips lifted even more. He hadn’t just expected Khal to resist, he wanted him to, just so he could hurt Hazel and feed off both their pain. “Let’s see if you can be persuaded to cooperate, then, shall we?”
Knut took a step back, turning his gaze to Gerkin.
The Commander of Garana approached, a sick gleam in his pale eyes. The Eoks behind him didn’t move, showing no emotion as their commander separated from the group. His pants were stretched by a powerful erection and there was no doubt in Hazel’s mind about what was going to happen.
Gerkin was going to rape her to force Khal into doing his bidding.
Behind Gerkin, Khal roared, his fangs out in full display, his talons digging into the rock. From the side, an Eok lifted his ionic gun.
“No!” Knut lifted his hand imperiously. “I want him to watch as all of you take turns on his bloodmate until she’s nothing but a bleeding bag of flesh. Only after she’s dead can you shoot him, too.”
Hazel’s eyes locked with Khal’s for just as a second. Pain, despair, and a dedication made of pure love passed between them.
Don’t do it. Hazel mouthed the words. Don’t give in.
Then Gerkin was on her. Pain exploded as Gerkin lifted her by her hair and Hazel kicked and screamed wildly. Her eyes ran over the crowd, from Knut’s open grin to the faces of the Eoks. They weren’t expressionless anymore, but wore varied shades of revulsion and shame. Bloodmates were sacred to Eoks and yet, they would allow this to happen to her and Khal.
Even if they fought, the Ilarians outnumbered them overwhelmingly. There were ten thousand of them looking down as she was raped to death.
They would stand there as Gerkin used her. They would watch without curiosity, without arousal, and without guilt.
Khal raged, his wrath a mighty storm under the red sun’s relentless heat. The sounds coming from his throat were alien and feral, the beast inside unleashed at last, fighting to protect what was his. What was his heart and his life.
A stab of pain hit Hazel right between her ribs as she contemplated how much pain Khal would be in as he watched her die.
Gerkin jerked her onto her stomach with a loud growl. Hazel landed hard, her face splitting in pain as her soft flesh met the hot rocks. The world closed around her and lost all light as Gerkin’s body pushed over hers, his arousal digging into her backside, his weight crushing, making it hard to breathe. From her position, she could see that despite Khal’s struggle, the Allurium shackles were not giving a
ny sign of failing.
Then her eyes went to the stone around the anchor securing him. It was cracking under the strain of Khal’s incredible strength, but none of the Eoks seemed to be noticing it. They were all too busy looking at what Gerkin was about to do to her.
He’s going to get free, and then, they’re going to kill him.
Terror spread through her blood, invading each of her cells like oxygen. She ignored the stinging pain from Gerkin’s hold, her eyes refusing to look away from Khal.
Then, somewhere up in the distance, a great commotion sounded, like a thousand insects taking flight at once.
Chirping filled the air as white roots exploded from the rocks below, ready for battle.
“It’s the Medina! It’s attacking!” Hazel screamed as the first Ilarian guard was slashed in two by a tall, large white root, his torso rolling all the way to Knut’s feet. The Avonie took a hasty step back as the Ilarian flailed his arms, panic finally lighting his eyes with an emotion before clouding over with death.
From the corner of her eye, she saw the Eoks hesitate between keeping their ionic guns on Khal or turning them to the roots, unsure of what the greater threat was.
Khal. The greatest threat was always Khal.
Confusion spread like wildfire as Ilarian guards broke their ranks, spreading out in orderly files under their leaders’ commands. White roots attacked them from all sides, but still, they showed no fear, retrieving ionic blades from their belts and slashing at the roots, stepping over their fallen comrades without a single glance.
Another noise sounded from where Khal was bolted to the rock. He hadn’t stopped struggling and now his wrists were covered in blood where he pulled against the shackles. A great crack had finally appeared in the stone.
He’s going to break free.
“Kill him, you fools!” Gerkin shouted at the Eoks. They had finally decided that the Medina was the greatest threat and were momentarily turning their backs to Khal, pointing their ionic guns at the roots.
Gerkin had forgotten all about Hazel for a second.
A second was all she needed.
She twisted under Gerkin’s body, then did the only thing she could possibly think of. Her teeth closed around his wrist and she only had time to reflect that it was pure luck that he had wanted to hold her with his intact hand. She bit down with no restraint, with all her strength. Her tiny, blunt teeth embedded deeply in the Eok’s flesh and her tongue was rewarded with the taste of blood. The hand that held her hair opened, freeing her head. Hazel twisted some more, preparing to get to her feet and run. But she never got that far.
“You little whore!” Gerkin’s hand closed around her throat and his sick, pale blue eyes, devoid of almost all color, filled her field of vision. “You will die for that!”
Gerkin squeezed, stopping the flow of air to her lungs instantly. Then he squeezed some more. Hazel’s hands went up, her nails digging into Gerkin’s flesh, leaving raw, bloody traces behind, but it was no use. Gerkin was Eok, there was nothing she could do against him. Her strength faded fast, and soon, black invaded her vision with rapidly increasing white dots.
I’m going to die. I’m dead already.
Blackness filled her vision and Hazel felt her arms hit the ground.
Then a splash of wetness splattered over her face and Gerkin’s hand withdrew, along with the weight of his body. Hazel coughed and breathed, gulping in the air in large, greedy lungfuls.
A shrill noise sounded from her right, from where Gerkin’s body had dropped with a mighty thump. Her eyes fluttered open as she blinked furiously, trying to regain her vision as her body responded to the intake of oxygen.
A blur crossed her field of vision, Prussian blue and hissing. Feral. Dangerous. Hazel blinked the remnants of the fog away as she scrambled to her knees.
All around them, carnage was decimating the Ilarian guards. The Eok warriors had closed their ranks, turning their backs on each other, discarding their ionic guns in favor of their talons. The white roots attacked them relentlessly, piling on the ground around them as the Eoks slashed at them.
They were losing ground, long burns stretching over their skin where the roots had made contact. It wouldn’t be long before they were overwhelmed.
As she lay low on the rocks, unmoving for fear of attracting attention from either the roots or the Eoks, Hazel turned around to see Khal facing Gerkin.
His talons were fully extended, long and deadly, but his wrists were shackled together. Gerkin had rolled over, crouching low on the ground, his natural hand bracing his weight while his artificial one was lifted up. A savage grin split Gerkin’s face as he faced Khal, the hatred obvious in his gaze. His artificial hand lifted and the long, shiny fingers extended into wicked blades, buzzing with a small aura of energy.
Hazel’s blood curdled in her veins as she understood. Gerkin had installed ionic blades on his artificial hand as a replacement for the talons Khal had cut off.
Khal’s shoulders slumped slightly when his gaze went to Gerkin’s artificial hand, and he pulled, once, desperately on his shackles, but the chain between them wouldn’t give in. Khal wasn’t just at a disadvantage, he was doomed.
Gerkin lost no time. He leaped, his artificial hand outstretched, the deadly blades ready to slice into Khal’s flesh and bones like into water. Khal ducked, his body bending with a fluid grace, evading the brutal assault. The Eok warriors faced each other, slowly moving in a circle, Khal’s Prussian blue eyes glittering, alert and fierce, Gerkin’s sickly pale eyes revealing the even deeper sickness inside.
This was not a time for talking, and neither Eok uttered a word as Gerkin feinted, then lashed out at Khal. Khal jumped away, landing neatly, but he was forced to duck again as a white root caught sight of his movement and tried to catch him. He quickly sliced the root with his talons, but that had cost him a precious second and Gerkin was already on him.
A deafening roar of pain echoed over the killing field as Gerkin’s ionic blades sliced through Khal’s upper arm. Khal moved again with feline grace, putting more distance between himself and the deadly weapons. As he went, his talons sliced Gerkin, opening a long gash in the other Eok’s thigh. Gerkin growled in pain, but it wasn’t a deep wound, and when he faced Khal, a renewed savagery filled his pale eyes. He looked at the bleeding, oozing wound in Khal’s bicep with knowing satisfaction. Khal snarled and hissed defiantly, but Hazel could see in his face that he wasn’t going to make it. He was too handicapped with his wrists shackled together, and Gerkin’s artificial ionic talons were too much of an advantage.
Noxious fumes rose from the ground, making Hazel cough. As her eyes trailed down to see where the fumes were coming from, she saw a white root covered in shiny mucus and, underneath it, one of the discarded ionic guns.
The metal was corroding under the acid of the root, the gun being cut cleanly in half. She stared at it for a second that seemed to stretch into eternity.
That gun is made of Allurium.
A flash of hope came to Hazel and she bent, grabbing the root with both hands. Pain like nothing she had ever felt rose up her arm but she didn’t let go.
“Use the root!” Hazel threw it toward Khal and it landed at his feet with a wet thump. His deep blue eyes went to her, then to her hands, and widened. “It can cut the metal!”
Khal’s gaze went to the ground, where the ionic gun lay, dissolving in a puddle. He parried another attack from Gerkin before turning to the root. Khal braced his hands low against the rocks, pushing the Allurium chain into the root’s flesh, then, in the next heartbeat, he rolled onto his uninjured shoulder to evade Gerkin’s next attack.
Foam was covering the Allurium chain, bubbling like boiling water where the mucus had come into contact with the metal.
“Won’t you just fucking give up and die!” Gerkin shouted, charging Khal again, raging like a bull.
Khal’s shackles finally snapped, freeing his hands. As Gerkin got closer, his pale eyes widened when he realized his mis
take. But it was too late, his momentum was propelling him forward and into Khal’s range.
Khal moved with the deadly grace of a predator, evading Gerkin’s ionic blades. His talons moved through the air in a wide arc, descending just above Gerkin’s neck.
Then Gerkin’s body dropped to the ground and his head rolled away, his pale eyes wide and still full of shock, looking straight ahead without seeing.
Elation filled Hazel as her eyes locked with Khal’s. He was still standing, proud and terrible, perfect in his bestial strength, blood splattering his chest, dripping down his sharp features.
Then her elation turned to horror as he was surrounded by a hundred white roots, their digestive mucus dripping to the ground, hungry and ready to strike.
Gerkin was dead and Khal had won, but he wasn’t safe—far from it. The Medina was striking back at those who had been killing her and Khal stood right in her way, drenched in blood.
A white root was hovering just there, level with Khal’s face, dripping mucus, drunk on violence and revenge. The chirping surrounding the battle ground was permeating the air, the danger like a living, breathing thing poised to strike.
Hazel wanted to scream, wanted to cry and lurch forward, to put her body between Khal and death, but even though she was close, she wasn’t close enough.
But the root didn’t strike. Khal didn’t go down in a frenzy of acid and melting flesh.
“It’s not attacking you.” Hazel’s voice sounded before she realized she was speaking. “Why?”
Another scream came from the right, where one of the four Eok warriors had been struck down. The white root turned toward the noise, diving for the falling warrior without losing time. Hazel stared in shocked awe as white roots covered the fallen Eok. His screams turned to gurgles as a tendril wriggled around his throat, embedding in the soft tissue, melting the flesh instantly. Blood and mucus spread out beneath the Eok’s body as he struggled.
When the gurgles faded to nothing and those powerful arms stopped struggling, Hazel looked away, nausea threatening to overcome her. It had all happened within a few seconds.