His people had never been peaceful. They were beings of destruction; their darker urges guided by the rules they'd imposed on themselves for reasons he'd never shared with Kira.
Graydon was their crowning achievement. A warrior. A protector. The epitome of everything their race strove to be.
And right now, his blood yearned for vengeance.
"Solal,ezieformation," he snapped.
There was a chance she was still alive. A small link stretched from him to her, razor-thin but there nonetheless. He clung to that chance with all he had.
"Keep thelu-ongdistracted. I'm going in," Graydon said.
"Not without me," the human retorted.
Graydon fought a sense of irritation before relenting. Graydon could use him. And Graydon was nothing if not practical.
Thelu-ongwas a difficult adversary, its skin nearly impenetrable to all but the most destructive of weapons. It had few weaknesses, and of those, it would take both skill and luck to take advantage of.
"Very well," Graydon agreed.
"Don't slow us down, human," Wren said.
"Please. One giant serpent has nothing on the Tsavitee warbirds we used to tangle with," the human said derisively.
Graydon bared his teeth in a bloodthirsty smile. "I guess we'll see soon enough. The rest of you, create an opening. I'm punching through. Stay on me—if you can."
Raider let out a whoop that Graydon took as agreement.
Graydon angled toward thelu-ong, picking up speed, his world narrowing as he sized up his opponent. This was going to be close. Power built in his hands and arms, Graydon forming his intent, honing it to a razor-sharp edge.
Under his armor, he knew lines and runes had formed under the skin of his arms, the delicate swirls and swoops glowing in preparation as he fed more power into them.
Every Tuann was born with certain attributes. The Mea'Ave upon birth read their souls and determined what they would need for the life to come.
Through relentless study and training you could add to the marks you were born with, achieve power through stubborn will.
The Mea'Ave only opened the door. You had to demonstrate the will and capacity to walk through it.
Only a quarter of those born with marks ever unlocked them and were blessed with their power. Of those, only a small percentage ever added to them.
Graydon was in those elite ranks. He was more than what he'd been born, possessing a rare will and determination. He’d only ever glimpsed his match in a woman who was too stubborn for her own good and so noble he feared what the universe might do to her if she wasn't protected.
He would not see that light extinguished. The Mea'Ave give him strength for what was to come. He'd need every ounce of its blessing today.
He built the feedback within, gritting his teeth against the onslaught of pain, his skin feeling at once too tight and too thin for the pure power housed in it.
"Time to dance, beautiful," he whispered to thelu-ong.
Light and power trailed from Graydon. To those on the ground, it would look like he grew wings of the purest black.
"Something has changed," Solal shouted.
Graydon swallowed the power as a smaller version of thelu-ongshot up from the depths, a small screech escaping it as it leaped into the air.
"She was protecting her baby," Amila whispered.
Graydon held the energy in, fighting the urge to expel it. Had he been any other, the action would have been impossible. He'd lived his life by control in all things. Hiskiwas no different.
He stared at the water as the mother hovered over her child, trilling a greeting. No bright red hair the color of blood surfaced. Not even bubbles to mark the spot where Kira had gone under.
