Page 105

ADRIANA

O bsidian is alone in the arena, without his wolves at his side. He’s still a monster. Taller even than Doman, and heavy, with flesh riddled with scars and burns from the nuclear blast. Dull thuds I more feel than hear as he charges, feet pounding against the sands as he rushes towards my triad.

My hand presses against the glass for support as I watch my triad meet his charge, sprinting towards the center of the arena where they meet him.

The awful shriek as Orb-Blade meets Orb-Blade, the blue-black energy blades fighting for dominance, then Obsidian has twisted past Doman, his body like liquid as he narrowly avoids Gallien and Titus’ swings.

The beast is unscathed, no new cuts added to the network of scars that run down half his body.

The War-God wears only a fur loincloth, and his muscles ripple as he turns to meet my triad, his veins pulsing with black blood.

My mind is full of the three auras at peak concentration, electric tension in their being as they face their foe.

I try to control my fear, try to push it from my mind, knowing it will only distract my men. I can’t. My heart is pounding, sweat dripping, my mouth dry.

They form a half-circle, trying to flank him, and Obsidian slowly backs up towards me.

His hand flicks, too quick to fully see, and a gasp escapes my lips as Gallien has to dart back.

The tip of Obsidian’s blade sears his chest. Titus takes the chance to rush forward, bringing his blade down with a roar, but Obsidian slides to the side, as if he can see where the strike was placed before Titus swung.

Blades whirl, but every time my triad strikes, he’s gone, his huge body twisting, his blade rising at the last second to parry a thrust I thought would end the monster.

My heart pounds. Can Obsidian see the future in those black eyes that have pierced the veil of the Rift?

He slides back in the sand as Titus tries to land a blow, and his blade sweeps in an arc, catching Titus on the thigh and rending his flesh.

Red blood spurts against his ivory skin, and primal horror consumes me.

I try to control it, because I know it’s seeping into my triad, but I can’t.

Doman roars, and the three press forward at once, blades swinging, but Obsidian parries blow after blow. I push myself unsteadily out of the cockpit, running to the bay doors that are open to the arena. The heat of the planet, the huge, ancient sun that has never witnessed such a battle bathes me.

I have to see them with my own eyes, not through the reinforced glass of the Reaver.

I have to be in the ring with them.

The stands are eerie, like thousands of statues packed in and watching.

Not a word, not a gasp, not a cheer as their leader fights in the sands below.

Obsidian is untouched, but sweat is dripping down his back.

He ducks, and Doman’s blade sweeps above him, grazing the top of his head as both Titus and Gallien strike in unison.

Obsidian parries Titus’ blow and twists, trying to dodge Gallien, but his seeking blade strikes the War-God in his calf.

The smell of burnt flesh assaults my nostrils as the demon is touched.

Black blood seeps from the wound, gleaming against the sands.

Hope. Hope seeps up in me in a golden wave as Obsidian is scathed.

He is no God. He cannot see the future.

He can die, like any other man.

Obsidian steps back, stumbling on his injured leg, and my men rush forward, smelling blood, their eagerness flowing through the Bond.

It’s a feint. Instead of retreating, Obsidian jolts forward like electricity and grabs Gallien by the throat. He charges forward, pushing past Doman and Titus as he lifts Gallien. His back exposed, and Doman drives his blade into him.

Obsidian is nearly skewered, but his momentum stops him from being fully impaled. Black blood drips down his back, from his calf, but he is relentless, driving himself forward as he heaves Gallien into the air.

With a sickening crunch, he crushes Gallien’s throat.

I shriek, my scream piercing the silence as Obsidian turns, dropping Gallien like a pile of meat. He thuds dully to the ground and blinks out of my mind.

This can’t be happening.

I’d felt the triad’s certainty. They knew they would come out victorious, standing over the corpse of the War-God, and I tried to believe them. I was scared they would die, but I didn’t even let my mind wrap around that possibility.

My fear was that they would be twisted into something I couldn’t love. That they’d become like Obsidian, leading his troops and rising to Gods.

Now Gallien lays dead on the black sands.

My mind feels so empty without him, and the waves of grief and agony pulses through the auras of Doman and Titus before they’re shut down, before Doman’s turns back to glacial coldness, and Titus to a volcano of rage.

Their auras don’t grow in my mind to fill the space where Gallien lived in my consciousness.

There’s just a hole.

I’m grabbing onto the side of the ship for support as Titus roars, breaking formation, charging forward. His blade swings, wide and with his full strength, and Obsidian parries it, driving his blade through Titus chest and cutting him nearly in half.

The barbarian who seemed so invincible crumples to the ground. His mind rages, incomprehensible anger and disbelief. I can feel him desperately clinging to consciousness, desperately probing my mind, trying to feel my aura for just a second longer... then it fades out of existence.

One moment I was overwhelmed by his rage, the next, there’s nothing.

The guilt mixes with grief. I could have stopped them. I could have found a way.

Obsidian steps forward over the corpse of the man I loved, and Doman, my invulnerable titan, my rock, steps back.

Obsidian swings, and Doman barely parries his blow. The blade drives down the shaft and takes two of Doman’s fingers. He switches his blade to his left hand, stepping back once more.

“Yield!” Obsidian’s voice booms out.

Doman has no answer. I want to flood his mind with pleas to give in, but I know it won’t do a thing.

He will never back down.

He retreats under Obsidian’s onslaught, blade ringing out against blade, until he’s only twenty feet from me. I could run forward and touch him.

Doman’s mind loses all its grief, all its rage.

He is fresh snow. A glacial stream.

Obsidian swings his blade in a hard arc as Doman musters all his strength, driving forward, not trying to avoid the War-Gods blow.

Doman’s head is cut clean from his neck, his head spiraling in the air. His bright blue eyes lock into mine, still conscious.

“Forgive me,” he telepaths, then his aura drains from my mind, leaving me empty and alone, surrounded by alien warriors.

The crowd breaks their silence, roaring in victory, but then they hush at once as Obsidian looks down.

Doman’s blade deactivated with his death, the hilt falling into the black sands, but I see the stream of blood from Obsidian’s chest.

He drove his blade into Obsidian’s black heart. He knew he would die to get his chance.

Black blood pumps.

Obsidian stumbles, looking towards the stealth ship.

The War-God falls to his knees as Fay runs shrieking into the arena, carrying her wailing baby, rushing to his side.

She cradles his head as it lolls back, and the War-God sees his Mate one last time, sees his son before he slumps heavily in the black sands.

Cal is walking out into the arena as if he’s drunk, unsteady as he makes his way towards his fallen brother.

I’m stunned, just like the crowd.

Their God was toppled.

The war is over.

The Fanatics will splinter into the universe as bandits, raping and pillaging. Queen Jasmine will rule in grief and torment in the wake of her firstborn’s death. Her vengeance will be insatiable as she hunts down every branded Aurelian until none remain.

And I will be alone.

Alone in my mind, for thousands of years, the Bond extending my torment. I will have known what it is to be Bonded to three men I love, and to lose them.

There will be nothing but emptiness forever as my family dies of old age and I’m left with nothing but memories.

I rip my eyes from the bodies of my triad, looking up to the ancient sun. I hate it. I hate it, I hate every star, and I want them to wink out of existence and burn up in my pain.

The sun inverts.

The blue sky above turns jet black.

The warm red glow of the sun turns to the darkest blue, sucking in light and life.

It’s incomprehensible, yet I know I have not gone mad. There’s an eerie familiarity.

The sun looks like X4-Z when it was pulled out of existence during the test of the Planet Killer.

It’s day, but there’s no light, and I see every star in the universe.

They are blue-black dots, the darkest diamonds.

I step forward towards my fallen men, and I feel like I’m stepping out of my body, my soul ripping itself from its physical form.

Then it’s gone. Everything goes black for an instant, like I’ve blinked and the universe blinked with me.

Doman, Titus, and Gallien stand in the arena of the Gods under the bright sun, across from Obsidian.

Their blades are ignited, they are halfway through a stride forward, and they stop, frozen in place. Their auras pulse in my mind as if they never left. Instead of battle-ready ice, they are confused, uncomprehending.

The pane of glass is in front of me.

I’m back in the cockpit of the Reaver, where I was minutes ago before the battle started.

The Aurelians stand across from each other, blades humming in their hands, unsure what to do. The crowd is shifting, no longer statues, every one of us trying to understand what just happened.

My hand shakes as I look down at my watch.

We’re… three... No. Four minutes ago.

I stumble out of the cockpit and onto the sands. Fay runs out of the stealth ship, her baby cradled in her hands, and we go to our men. I put my hand on Doman’s wrist. He’s frozen in place, unsure for the first time in his life.

As one, the four blades deactivate.

I look up into his bright blue eyes, the eyes that stared into mine as his head was severed.

“Doman, is this real? Are you here?” My voice quavers.

Then my smart-watch blinks blood red. So do the three of my triads.

I look down as reports come in, first a stream, then a flood.

“Oh Gods,” I say, as I understand.

“She didn’t,” whispers Gallien, his voice hushed, equal parts horror and awe.

Trillions.

Trillions of souls wiped out of existence. Reports are flooding in from my spy networks, from every news agency across the universe, garbled reports of planets gone.

The Planet-Killers were not in their home on Colossus. Queen Jasmine mobilized them, without us knowing.

And at once, they were used. She gave the command to fire every one in unison, blotting out every planet controlled by Obsidian’s forces. Planets with mere thousands of Obsidian’s troops, and billions of human lives. Planets that had surrendered to the War-God instead of fighting.

Trillions of innocents, pulled into the nothingness of the Rift.

Was it vengeance, for the firstborn prince? Or did they truly understand that the blast of energy could rip through time itself?

My mind rebels against the horror, trying to quantify it into strategic terms to keep my sanity. I know what I’m doing, and I don’t stop it, letting my thoughts race and focus on every permutation other than the lives lost.

I look over at Obsidian. His blade is on the sands, and instead, in his arms his babe is quiet. Fay is wrapping her arms around his huge waist, sobbing into his chest.