Dex

 

 

 

JEDREK AND I headed to the meet point, a thick fog rolling in . . . visibility near nil.

Choosing my footing carefully over ground uprooted by last night’s storm, I muttered, “This shit’s thick as—”

“Your cock?”

“Maybe a little bit thicker.”

“You being humble. That’s a new one.” Jedrek snickered, but he fell into a tense march beside me.

The only thing that wasn’t murky this morning were the feels—as Prairie would say. What had happened between Jedrek and me last night couldn’t have made my emotions any clearer except for a vow of love.

Like the one we’d exchanged in the cave.

Glancing over at the man whose face was stern as ever, I clasped his hand, threading my fingers through his as we trudged along. Maybe it was the love, maybe it was the fact we weren’t being drowned by hail or chased by lightning crackling near our feet.

Maybe it was that superhot fuck last night . . . but I felt buoyed despite the battle we were about to face.

We were Valkrane.

We were warriors.

Someone might die.

I wouldn’t let it be Jedrek.

We ranged toward the coordinates outlined by Khalon—a destination deep in the malp woods. Close to where Truda had ordered him to deliver the babes to her and her traitorous troops, our hands slowly withdrew until just our fingertips touched.

I wanted to kiss Jedrek again.

I wanted to have him by my side always.

I wished we didn’t have to witness any more death.

But I still wanted to avenge Prairie, Astrid, Baby X and Fallon, even Laurel, though she’d never been harmed.

When we reached our intended location, I hefted my battle-ax, dropping the pack soundlessly to the ground. Jedrek lowered to the balls of his feet in a crouch, camouflaged by the giant feathery foliage of the cyamii plants. Right next to us a huge tree stood—burnt open straight down the middle—the insides charred black by one of last night’s lightning bursts.

Jedrek tugged me beside him. As soon as I hunkered down, his hand tucked around my long beard and he drew me into a kiss.

A last kiss.

The best kiss.

Savoring the sleekness of his mouth, taking my time drawing my tongue alongside his, I let him command me. Hold me in place. His thumb caressing the corner of my lips.

I broke from him when awareness of others in the vicinity prickled up and down my spine.

Blending further into the murky cloud cover and thick greenery, we remained hidden from sight until huge booted feet filled our vision.

X loomed above, sword strapped across his back, black brows drawn down over his changeable eyes.

Magnar, Kerta, Cozmo, and Khalon formed a half circle around us.

With a nod to the others, X hunched down. Magnar followed suit, whip coiled at his side. Khalon prowled ahead along a path strewn with debris from the first nusoon storm. Also heavily armed, he almost disappeared in the blanket of mist. Cozmo, the only human among us, balanced the heavy-spiked head of his maul across his knees when he dropped to his haunches near us. Kerta alone joined our forces without a weapon.

She didn’t need bullets or blades because her special arsenal was borne of a deadly innate ability.

“Have a good night?” X lifted one brow in a sardonic expression.

“We made do,” I answered, Jedrek shifting beside me.

Hoped it wasn’t because I’d drilled his ass so hard last night he was in discomfort. Actually, I hoped he was uncomfortable because I’d done just that. I couldn’t help feeling smug at the idea.

“I’ll bet.” Magnar winked.

“Looked like you were walking a little stiffly, Jedrek, when we watched you marching into the glade.” Kerta sucked in her cheeks as she rubbed her hands together, throwing in an obscene gesture for good measure.

Saving us from further questions regarding the night’s activities, Khalon punched a fist to the air up ahead, barely visible.

Incoming.

We silently spread out into ambush position as nusoon season dowsed us in more vaporous fog. Up ahead, warriors rushed from the heavy haze, becoming visible one at a time, presumably commanded by Truda.

Their boots stilled on the rain-bitten soil—I counted them twelve strong against our seven, but we were the elite, and we weren’t turncoats.

They stopped in front of Khalon while we remained invisible.

The rank and file separated just as rain began to spit from far above—cold glassy icicles biting into my skin. And the female, Truda, strode between her bribed conscripts gathered from X’s uncle’s trainees.

She wore long twisted blonde braids from the crown of her head down her back. She stood a good six-feet-eight inches tall, and her body was lithe and lean as any warrior woman.

The hard, harsh look on her face was nothing like Laurel’s soft smile or her bold cajoling.

Drawing a short sword from its sheath, she faced Khalon.

Her lips were red. Irises a strange diluted pink. And her voice a growl when she asked him, “Where are the little abominations you promised me? The children?”

“I’ve got your prizes right here.” Khalon shifted in a blur of movement, drawing his own blade.

The sound of his sword unsheathed was our signal.

Roars slicing through the fog like blades that soon would be slashing through flesh, we bounded from the thick foliage.

Truda paled when she saw X—tall as a mountain, angrier than I’d ever seen him, and formidably muscled—bearing down on her with lightning fast strides.

He emerged from the mist like a murderous demon intent on her death. “My children are safe in my palace . . . with my human mate, you vile bitch.”

Falling back, she shouted, “Stay steady! He’s letting the varmint humans take over the planet. Xyib*eepthxnin is not your lord!”

Truda’s soldiers crashed forward, war cries streaming from their mouths.

I handled the pommel of my battle-ax, bellowing and bursting forward until I met up with a fighter. His lips pulled back in a snarl, he slashed at me with little agility.

Hauling back to take aim, I put my entire weight into the downward thrust of my ax. I separated the skull of the male like his head was fruit from the rubek plant.

Slinging brain matter to the soaked ground, I spun in time to dodge the hot blast of light Kerta sprung from her fingertips. The ordnance hit like a photon beam, Kerta’s prey dematerialized to a molecular level in one heated instant.

Holy fuck.

And remind me not to get on her bad side.

No time to think, I backed up Magnar, who battled against three traitorous fucks with furious lashes from his whip. One opponent went down and another popped up.

Cozmo ran by, slamming a male across the back of his head, bashing his brains in one crashing blow.

Truda—down by four warriors already—made her stand in the slashing rain. “Kill him! Kill the king!”

Distracted by the cunt’s shout, I took a slam to my shoulder. A blade dug in, but it wasn’t enough to halt me. Spinning, I knocked the conspirator to the muddy trampled ground. I reached back, caught the hilt of his knife, and pulled it free of my flesh. Another cloud of fog rolled in just as I stomped the male in the middle, pinning him down. And I lobbed the knife straight into his chest, puncturing one of his hearts.

My head whipped around, wet hair blurring my vision.

Mud, earth, rain, pain, mist . . . I couldn’t locate Jedrek among the battling warriors.

Where the fuck is Jedrek?

Fear lodged deep in my gut. I beat off another attacker, the glinting blade of my ax shearing his head from his neck.

Directly in front of me, X gruesomely gutted the last man guarding Truda. Sloppy slick entrails plopped to the ground just before the male’s disemboweled body crumpled in a macabre heap.

Intent on his quarry, he tucked his chin down, irises flipping vertical in hot golden ire.

Nearly foaming at the mouth now, Truda hollered, “You’ve tainted the bloodlines! You and your brother. Mating human females,” she spat out, taunting X. “What about racial integrity? Now you’ve produced two revolting half-breeds, a pestilence to the planet. You’re not worthy of the aristocracy!”

I let out a roar, ready to descend on the crazed bitch ax-blade first when I finally caught sight of Jedrek. Feeling like my hearts were being ripped from my chest, I watched from too far away, helpless, as a sword plunged into the right side of his torso.

The moment the blade sliced into him, my new markings throbbed.

“No!” Fear ran like ice in my veins.

Jedrek dropped, dagger flying from his grip, blood spraying from the wound that must’ve punctured one of his hearts.

Legs pumping, I descended on his assailant. Ax blade swinging, I tore into his chest and just kept going. Each meaty thwack and shower of crimson blood feeding the untamed rage pounding through me until nothing was left but a gory mess of Zenithian flesh.

I scrambled across the wet earth toward Jedrek. Rain hammered down, and he lay crumpled on blood-soaked ground, mud all around him.

He was ghastly pale. Spectral white. And yet more blood seeped from the jagged gash that tore his flesh apart and left one sluggishly pumping heart open to the unkind elements.

Lifting his head onto my lap, I swept my fingers over his face, murmuring over and over, “Not you. You won’t die. Open your eyes, please, meehra. Please!”

I glanced up just as Khalon’s body smashed to the ground, a spear deeply embedded in his chest. Dying like a warrior, dying like he wanted. But not Jedrek. I wouldn’t let him go. I’d never let him go.

I nearly wept when Jedrek’s arm rose, and his fingers fluttered weakly around my wrist. All-consuming relief surged through me when he drew in a staggered breath.

Relief and unquelled grief.

The clashing metal of sword against sword, the heavy smack of body against body finally stopped. The fighting over.

The disloyal warriors all dispatched to the underworld.

I staunched the flow of blood on Jedrek’s chest, holding in tears that threatened to burst from my eyes. I wrapped a cloth over the wound, drawing the two sides together over the gaping gash.

Truda alone of her people remained standing. And she was unmarked, untouched. But not for long.

Wearing a mean grin, Magnar wrenched her arm behind her back. “Kneel before your king.”

She struggled until Magnar torqued her arm higher and higher.

Tossing a haughty look at X, she slowly sank to her knees.

X approached her, eyes hard, sword stained with dripping blood.

“Did my uncle know about your wicked plans? The slave trade you perpetrated?”

“The Commander.” She sneered, white-blonde braids turned dark beneath the howling winds and spitting rains. “Yet another weakling. He’s never suspected me, his lover.”

“You are the abomination.” Angling his sword above her face, X watched as her dead warriors’ blood dripped in rivers down her temples.

“I’ll meet you and your children in the underworld,” Truda derided.

“I doubt that very much.”

Rain beat down on her upturned face, and X pointed the tip of his fine-edged sword at her throat. “I’ve never killed a female before, but you’re a disgrace to your gender and your species.”

The sharp metal nicking her neck, Truda repented, head bowed, shoulders shaking. “I deserve a trial.”

“I am your king. I am your judge. I am your reaper. And this is your trial.” Giving no quarter, X swung fast, severing her head from her body.

Her skull slurped to the sodden ground, the clean cut pumping crimson jets. X stood tall, cleaning his sword and surveying the massacre unfolded around us.

Bodies.

Blood.

Red.

Rain.

Death.

“Remind me never to piss him off,” Jedrek muttered just before he lost consciousness.