But Auriel’s hands were on my face and my eyes were closing. Nothing I did could keep them open.
“No,” I gasped. “No.”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry. I have to.” A door opened and closed at the top of the stairs.
“Branwyn,” I said slowly, my words slurred. And suddenly in my haze, I’d remembered something. Something important. “She needs to know. They’re in Thene. You must … warn Cal and Marisol.”
“My grandparents? Warn them about what?” she asked, her voice frantic.
I could hear her feet scurrying down the stairs.
“Lyriana?” Branwyn called out.
“Warn them,” I said, barely getting the words out. “Warn them that they’re coming.” My eyes closed.
Chapter
Ten
MORGANA
Day broke as we reached our rendezvous in a meadow nestled between the woodlands on the Payunmar border. My akadim, still freshly-made and recovering their sense of selves, knew enough to realize the sun was a danger. Except it wasn’t. Not for them. They all growled, their complaints intensifying the brighter the day became. They threatened to run, and look for shade.
But they didn’t know how much things had changed. How Aemon, calling upon Moriel’s ancient knowledge, had made it so that no time would restrict them. Their collars glowed silver, and the sun shined golden on their monstrous faces as further proof.
Only Rhyan seemed calm, standing at the forefront of my soturi. My new Arkturion. He was still and stoic, mentally putting together the pieces before the others did, understanding that no harm could come to him now. I watched as a few took note, seeing the confidence in his face. He turned slowly, and gave a small nod to his fellow akadim. The gesture wasn’t kind, but commanding. Almost like a call for them to relax.
“I give you daylight,” I said, confirming their realization, making sure they knew that their gratitude as well as theirallegiance was meant for me. Rhyan could command them, but only through my will. “The ability to feed and bathe beneath the light. You may go where you must, and when you need to. You are not like the akadim you knew of before. You are elevated. By me. Now no element of nature shall hold you back.”
The looks of awe in their faces almost made me forget they were demons. Almost.
“But,” I said, amplifying my voice, ensuring that the handful still looking to Rhyan for guidance, were fully reliant upon me. “I am your queen. You are under my command. Mine.”
Parthenay’s eyes shot toward me, a flash of anger in them.
“You have a job to do. One to make your lives better and more fruitful. More free. You are a new breed. Evolved. You will eat what you must to survive. That cannot be changed. You will kill, for you must eat souls to live. But,” my aura darkened around me, rumbling with the magic of my command, pushing it into their collars, “you are mine. And you will not rape. That practice ends now. I forbid it.”
Their growls turned into roars of defiance. Even Rhyan—Rhyan of all people. No, not people. Akadim. But even he looked murderous. He’d been so ravenous and wild when I found him. If he was allowed his freedom, he’d become the most feared akadim to exist. And in all other ways, he still would be.
Parthenay shook her head, blatantly displaying her disagreement. Behind me, Lissa continued to cower as always.
This is insanity. They’ll mutiny,Parthenay pushed the thought into my mind.All the commands in the world will not stop nature from running its course. Look at them even now.
And indeed, there was a sense of violence and lust filling the air, one I swore I could touch. One I would squash.
I sent a burning flame in response to Parthenay’s mind.
She jumped back, her face contorted in pain.
They have the command of a Goddess,I thought.I’m not asking. I’m ordering them.
But there were several grumbling before me, making their displeasure loudly known.
“Silence!” I yelled, my arms raised, the shield catching sunlight until it filled the woods with waves of orange and gold. “We go now to meet your king, yourMaraak,and to meet the rest of your fellow soturi.”
I stared them down, Rhyan in particular. He straightened like the soldier he was—even in death, looking over the rest of the akadim, his expression full of expectation. All at once, the rest of them obeyed, following me as they were supposed to, and together we walked into the meadow.
Maraak Moriel,Arkturion Aemon, the man known as the Ready, and my lover, stood in the center of it, tall and glorious, his red cloak blowing gently in the early morning breeze. He’d retired his Bamarian armor and now wore a chest plate that fully covered his torso. It was similar in structure to the armor we were familiar with back home. But he lacked the seraphim wings that traditionally appeared on the shoulders.
