80
DIANNA
“Honestly,” Nismera said, pulling the knife from my stomach and slamming it back in. She followed it up with a punch to my face that left my entire body aching with the force of the hit. “I’ll admit the kiss was extra, but I wanted to see what made my half-breed brothers so feral over the precious Ayla.”
She gripped my hair and yanked my head back, forcing a groan from me. “Between us girls, it was lackluster, to say the least.”
I used every ounce of energy I had, rearing back and head-butting her.
My hair ripped, strands still tangled in her fingers as she released me. The hit had done little damage, even with the force I’d used. Her nose wasn’t even bleeding, and her only reaction was to laugh.
“You hit me,” she said it with such shock as if the thought never occurred to her that anyone could.
I tossed my hair from my face. “That tends to happen in a fight.”
I stumbled back, gasping when the blade left my gut a second time. I was fucked, and I knew it. Nismera wasn’t just a god. She was half Ig’Morruthen, and I had no idea where that put her on a power scale, but I knew it far outreached mine. I needed to think and be smart if I wanted to get out of here. I pulled on the magic of my wedding band, summoning a dagger. Her eyes flicked to the weapon, but she just smiled dismissively and strolled lazily toward me.
Her dark leather pants and shirt molded lovingly to her body, the silver scale armor draping like a shawl from the twin pauldrons. Her armored boots only came to her knees, and I would admire the outfit if I weren’t so offended. She’d decided I wasn’t enough of a threat for full armor, but on the plus side, the lack of it left plenty of open spots for me to aim.
I raised the knife, drawing her eyes to it, and used my other hand to land a punch to her face. Her head whipped to the side, silver ringlets of hair whipping around her face when she spun toward me to retaliate.
I raised my arm to block, expecting it to sting. What I didn’t expect was how strong she was. Not only did my block fail, but my wrist snapped. My dagger clattered to the floor, and I went sailing across the cavern. My back bounced off the throne, pieces shattering and crumbling to the floor. Pain was something I was used to, but holy fuck. I’d barely managed to sit up before she was on me, her fingers fisting in my hair once more.
“I’ll give you credit. You got one shot in. That’s more than most,” she said, lifting my head and dragging me up. I slapped at her hand, trying to get her to release her grip on my hair. Okay, new plan. Get free and don’t let her touch you again. I groaned as she placed me on my feet, her eyes landing on my limp wrist. “I really thought you could take a punch, considering you’re the foretold one and all, but it looks like I broke your wrist.”
“Lucky me. I heal fast.” I sneered, my wrist snapping back into place right as my punch landed in the middle of her face. Her grip loosened, and I twisted free. Using the momentum, I jumped and pulled my knee back, my foot striking out and driving straight into her gut. The force of my kick sent her stumbling, and I landed hard on my back. A huff left me, and I took a deep breath before flipping to my feet.
Nismera looked down at her shirt, the clear outline of my boot print visible on it. She snarled at me, looking pissed for the first time.
“Not used to being touched, bitch?”
She advanced. I had to focus and not allow my emotions and worry to overwhelm me. She was fast, faster than Samkiel. We danced around each other, fists and feet flying. I avoided any direct hit, escaping before she could snap my bones. Every punch or kick I landed just pissed her off more. I was starting to settle into a rhythm of darting in, striking hard, and bouncing away before she could retaliate, but I may have gotten a little too cocky. The next time I stepped in close, she anticipated, and her punch sent me skidding across the floor. The dais stopped me, my side taking the brunt of the impact.
Gripping the dais, I pulled myself to my feet, careful not to take a deep breath. I wasn’t going to win this. My hits weren’t even phasing her. She didn’t mark, didn’t bruise. However, I felt as if I’d gotten hit by a truck. Ten times over.
She looked at me in disgust. “All that strength, that power, every prophecy, both written and spoken, told of how you would dethrone me, and this is what I get?” Her lip curled. “Pathetic and not even pathetic enough to be amusing.”
My teeth wore over my busted lip. “Out of your whole fucked up family, there is only one of you I care about pleasing, and it’s not you.” And I needed to find him.
She stalked toward me. “You—”
“Yeah. I’m done talking now.”
My hands shot out, and flames shot from my palms in a torrent, engulfing her and tossing her back. Nismera crashed through a wall, disappearing into the darkness on the other side. I didn’t spare a second glance, cradling my wrist as bones and tendons mended. I spun and limped toward the door, pushing my body past its limits. She would be right behind me, and I doubted my fire would affect her since she was part Ig’Morruthen, but it would buy me time to get out and get to Samkiel. He wasn’t dead. I would have felt it. I needed to get to him.
I skidded to a halt at the mouth of the tunnel as a tall, broad figure emerged from the darkness. Hope flared, and then quickly died, for it wasn’t my king blocking my escape. No, it was the fucking King of the Otherworld. I glared up at Umemri.
His dark clothes were covered with a layer of dust and dirt, and that heavy, sharp crown on his head could be used as a damn weapon. Black, spiny tentacles ripped from his back and shot toward me, wrapping around me in a vise-like grip. They tightly bound my throat, arms, and legs and lifted me off the floor. He held me there, but his eyes remained locked on the monster at my back.
“You will have my army at your disposal when needed,” Umemri said. “The Otherworld will come to your aid, anywhere, anytime, as long as you swear he shall watch her die.” His eyes turned toward me. “Violently.”
“Consider it done,” Nismera said with a satisfied purr.
“You’re an idiot,” I seethed. “She’ll use you and your armies and discard you like trash when she’s done.”
Umemri glared down at me, but just planted me at her feet. Her smile was that of nightmares, and it was the last thing I saw before her foot connected with my head.
A few days later
