“She had sense enough to turn you down.”

He scoffed. “I would’ve made her come around. I could have persuaded her. But then here you come, back to the island after years away. Talking about defying Selene. Talking about allying with the Order, for fuck’s sake. I can’t let that happen, Zael.”

“It’s happening,” Zael assured him. “I won’t rest until it does.”

Elyon shook his head. “We never should’ve defected from the realm. Living in hiding on this rock, all of us isolated from the rest of world and forbidden to come or go.” He chuckled brittly. “Well, all of us except for you, Zael. And now here you are, asking us to put our fate in Breed hands? Never. We should go back to Selene before we trust any of the Breed. We’re better off with the devil we know.”

The male was getting agitated, and that meant he would soon be unpredictable. Zael edged him farther away from the pedestal that held the crystal, keeping him distracted with short bites of the blade. Finally, he had Elyon pushed toward the center of the chamber, Zael standing between his opponent and the crystal.

But Elyon wasn’t finished berating him. He glanced briefly down at Nethilos. “I tried to convince him, but he refused to listen. Why would he? I’m a lowly soldier, only fit for guarding the gates, not breathing the rarefied air of the council chamber. Again, unlike you.” Now he grinned, his gaze too avid to be fully sane. “What makes you so damned special? Nothing. Tamisia was no better than Nethilos. With her, I was good enough to fuck, but not good enough to be heard. Not good enough to obey. Well, no more.”

Light exploded from Elyon’s hands. Even though Zael braced for the impact, the sudden blast of power crashed into him like a freight train. The other warrior had always been strong, but this immense force was something different.

Bloody hell.

The crystal, Zael realized.

Elyon hadn’t had the chance to remove it before Zael interrupted him, but he had been close enough to touch it.

And the power he’d siphoned off that brief contact now gave him the strength of ten Atlantean warriors.

The force of Elyon’s light blew Zael off his feet, sent him hurtling across the chamber. He lost his grasp on the blade as he slammed into the stone wall of the chamber, bones shattering on impact. White-hot pain exploded all through him.

Elyon’s laughter was madness as he raised his hands in front of him and prepared to unleash another punishing blast on Zael.

 

 

CHAPTER 35

 

He was in agony.

Brynne felt Zael’s sudden, unbearable burst of pain echo through her blood as if it were her own bones breaking, her own skull ringing from a sudden, savage assault.

“Oh, no.” A jolt of panic—of marrow-deep terror—gripped her. “Zael.”

Her bond to him told her where he was.

She followed the beacon of that connection, moving through the council building and up the stairwell at the fastest speed her Breed genetics would allow.

“Zael!”

She smelled blood even before she reached the top floor of the structure.

So much blood.

The barred door to the chamber was no match for her otherworldly strength. It flew off its hinges as she smashed inside the room.

Streaks of blinding light collided between Zael and his attacker, the blond sentry she recognized from her arrival on the island. Elyon’s face was twisted into a mask of rage as he battled Zael. The sentry’s eyes were wild, his expression murderous.

Zael roared when he spotted her. “Brynne, get out of here!”

In that split-second of distraction, Elyon unleashed another blast of power at Zael from the centers of his glowing palms. The bolt arced like lightning, hitting Zael square in the chest. He flew backward on a shout of agony, held down by the force of Elyon’s blast.

Brynne screamed—not only because of her shared link to Zael, but out of fury for his attacker. Her bellow tore from somewhere deep inside her, morphing into an unearthly, alien sound as her transformation overtook her.

Her vision flooding with amber rage, she leaped on Elyon. She took him down, her black talons sinking into flesh and bone as she tore at him, tumbling the larger male onto the floor.

She was animal in her violence, but the Atlantean’s strength was immense.

Powerful light exploded in her chest and skull.

Elyon threw her off him and got to his feet. He glared at her as she tried to shake off her pained daze, his wounds already starting to heal.

“You stupid Breed bitch,” he seethed at her. “Now, you die too.”

He raised his hand, a fireball of energy swirling in its center. Just when he would have unleashed it, Zael came up on one knee on the other side of the room. He had something grasped in his closed fist. His other hand was engulfed in light—light he now blasted on Elyon.

Instead of going after Brynne, the sentry swung the full breadth of his power on Zael in defense. Their light clashed and held, its colliding force illuminating the chamber with the heat and brightness of ten suns.

Brynne saw her chance to act. A long blade of blood-stained steel lay just out of her grasp. She lunged for it, then came up swinging.

The sword connected at the base of Elyon’s skull. The Atlantean’s head went flying.

More energy poured out of him now, bursting from his flailing hands and his severed neck. The body crumpled to the floor, Elyon’s immortal life—and his destructive light—extinguished forever.

“Brynne.” Zael was at her side in that next instant.

She could still feel his physical pain—broken bones and light-seared organs that were slowly healing, thanks to his Atlantean genetics. She could also feel his relief as he wrapped one hand around her nape and pulling her against him as he brushed his mouth over hers in a fierce kiss.

Part of her wanted to resist his nearness—if only because she wasn’t sure she could trust herself under the yoke of her transformation. Although she didn’t feel her sanity slip as it did all the other times she succumbed to blood thirst or fury, she recognized the beast within her.

Her blood pounded ferociously in her temples, her vision swamped with amber and still thrumming with the power of her rage. She was Ancient now. Still seething and unearthly.

Hideous.

Yet Zael had looked at her with pure affection. With love.

She tasted no fear in his kiss—not for what she was, anyway. Only the fear that they might have lost each other today.