Thesecaenisdidn’t possess that type of ability.
The tightly bolted anger roiling within him since he left Exilum broke free. As the rebel leaped through the gateway, Aerén let go of Leya and dove for the bastard, grabbing him. They both flew into a dead cold world, hissing steam exploding everywhere. They rolled on the ice-slicked ground, the rank stench of sulfur slamming him in the nose.
Aerén grabbed the rebel by the throat, his power surging and emitting bolts of electric shock, jolting his prey. “Who gave you the power disc to open the portal?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he choked out.
Aerén rammed his fist in the rebel’s face, unable to kill the fucker just yet.
The rebel grunted, then grinned, teeth stained red with blood. “You think you have it all, but the Revetori will rule.”
These fuckers came from the lower power level of his species, always braying about their lack of abilities and wanting to rule Empyrea, a world they were determined to destroy in the process.
“You’ve been trying for eons.” Aerén squeezed his throat tighter. “And yet, here you are.”
Thecaenipunched him right in his wounded side, and Aerén reeled and fell, losing his hold on the fucker. Searing agony spread from his wound as thecaeniflashed a short distance away.
Grunting, Aerén rolled to his feet.
“You have no idea what’s coming—” A cacophony of noise surrounded them. More rebels took form.
“Told you this hot head would be easy to get here,” one of the vermin gloated.
This was a fucking setup?
Nothing new there. The bastards rolled that way. At least Leya was safe back on Earth. But he knew where he was.
Dregarus.
The realm of his lifelong nemesis, judging from the soaring snow-topped black mountains and hissing geyser lands.
“Get him,” the leader, a cowardly prick, ordered, prepared to let his minions die in his stead. “Let’s end one of these murderous child slayers.”
The taunt impaled Aerén straight in the chest, old agony flaring alive. Something rammed him on his injured side, but he didn’t feel it, not with the past shredding his heart…
The rebel smirked at scoring a direct hit and triumphantly ran his fingers over the edge of his sword.
Her death was a fucking accident!His long-banished oldest brother had adored their sister. Her death was a tragedy because the Fates were bitches, and enjoyed rolling the dice any way they could for shits and giggles. It had torn his family apart back then, and now his parents had gone missing.
Thecaenissurrounded him, creeping closer, grinning.
Like a detonator unpinned, his rage exploded. Weaponless, Aerén tore through them, caring little about the blows and wounds they dealt to him. He lashed out with a brutal roundhouse kick into a chest, cracking ribs, then broke another’s arm. Snarling, he ducked the blow of a sword.
More crowded him.
Finally, he let his perilous power free. Lightning flowed out in a powerful wave, snapping and crackling in a translucent outpouring, dissolving rocks and melting the snow. Caught in the power surge, the rebels’ agonized shrieks echoed—
A faint, familiar scent of a thousand flowers drifted to him, one that had no place amidst these stinking, hissing jets.
Leya?
No! He reeled in his deadly ability. She couldn’t be in this godsforsaken land with the incinerated ashes of his enemies! He shook his head to dislodge her smell and thoughts of her. Better this way. He wouldn’t see her again—
“Very impressive,” a brusque voice drawled.
Aerén pivoted. Fear stabbed his mind like a million daggers, so sure his eyes were playing tricks on him.
No! Fuck, no!
