Until I wasn’t. Until … Morgana found me. Collared me.
Made me her soldier. Her Arkturion.
Morning came, and the sun.
“You remembered who you were,” Auriel said.
I shook my head. “Much good it did me.”
“It did. You weren’t here. You were gone. But what you left behind was powerful. Your discipline, your strength.”
I somehow was in my akadim body, but I was also me,outside of myself, and watching.
“You’re hungry, Rhyan? Aren’t you?” Morgana asked, her dark eyes dipping down my body, to the loincloth I’d found in the night and used to cover myself.
I knew what she was asking of me, what she wanted. And I was hungry. So very hungry.
My cock twitched and my arms flexed, my mouth salivating. I wanted it all. Food, sex, violence. A soul to eat.
“Very hungry,” she said with approval. A grin spread across her cold, beautiful face.
“Maraaka,” I said and licked my lips, taking a step forward, taking in the sight of Parthenay’s slight body. I noted how thin she was, how weak she appeared. It would be so easy to slam her down, to take off her dress, to drink her blood.
No. No. No.
I tried to look away, to hide from the scene. I didn’t want to be here again. I didn’t want to remember this. But all I did was end up inside my akadim body,looking out through thoseeyes.
“Take her,” she commanded. “Take her however you want. Feast on her, fuck her, drink her blood.”
Yes. Yes!
Morgana shoved the girl forward as she screamed, calling out desperately to Aemon for help.
I remembered her—remembered my disdain. Remembered my hatred for Aemon. I loved that I could hurt this girl, for what she’d done to me, done to Lyr, and I loved that I was doing this in front of Aemon. She was his servant and I could touch her. Hurt her the way he’d hurt Lyr. Hurt her while he watched.
I pounced, my nostrils flaring, as I crushed her body beneath mine.
But it wasn’t her beneath me. It was Lyr. We were in the cave, in the Wall of the Prince.
“I’m afraid,” she cried. “I’m afraid you’re going to hurt me.”
I jumped back, shaking my head. No. No. What have I done?
What have I done?
“Rhyan, please,” Lyr begged, her eyes filling with tears.
“Lyr?” I asked. “Lyr? LYR! ”
A black box rattled before me, blue light exploding from within.
Lyr screamed.
I woke with a jolt, my heart slamming into my chest, my stomach roiling, sweat coating my brow. I was alive. I was aliveagain. And mortal. My soul returned. But my power was still gone.
I gasped for breath, my chest heaving painfully.
“Rhyan,” Lyr said softly, stirring from sleep. “Rhyan, you’re okay. You were just dreaming. I’m right here.”
