Page 34 of Risen (Love and Revenge #6)

Martina

T he Vanity Ballroom reeked of ash, sweat, and blood, with a good dose bitter, lingering fear in the air. We pushed through the cracked double doors on the lower floor and stumbled into the Detroit night, blinking against the sudden sweep of open sky and fresh air.

The street was littered with dead syndicate goons.

And a few griffins and naga as well. Our allies were gathering their dead and wounded.

Behind us, the ballroom belched smoke, and no one bothered to put out the smoldering fires.

The place carried too much bad energy from years of use by the syndicate. Let it burn.

Robin led us out, her aura both stronger and steadier than I had ever seen it, even if it did still spark now and then with some strong emotion.

Looking at her was almost blinding right now.

I knew our dragon princess was powerful.

And I knew that power would only grow once she was reunited with her birthright.

But… I had vastly underestimated just how much stronger she would be.

I was having to re-think everything I thought I knew about dragon capabilities.

And… if she had been missing this much of her essence all these years, I wouldn’t be surprised if our alpha was suddenly an entirely different person—had we really known the real Robin at all these past decades? Or only a shallow husk of who she was?

Of course, some of the change was probably due to the new true mate bond that simmered in the air between her and our omega.

Ruya walked at Robin’s side, her shoulders back, chin up, her aura radiating more power and allure than ever before.

In her own subtle way, she outshone the alphas that paced at her side.

Robin might be all heat and flash, and Sadavir was a solid force of deep power and confidence…

but it was clear to anyone with eyes that it was the omega between them who truly commanded all that power.

Her crystalline blue eyes swept over me, unseeing, but taking my measure all the same, and I shuddered.

Between her coming of age, her true mate bonds, and the strange ritual at back at the naga temple, something had happened to our omega.

Robin might feel like a queen to me now. But Ruya felt like a goddess.

Robin guided Ruya forward, Sadavir close at her other side, and the rest of us fanned out behind—bloodied, burned, a little awed, but still breathing.

The griffins and naga who had fought with us peeled off almost immediately, their commanders barking orders in languages that clanged like metal and hissed like oil on water as they reunited with their people in the streets.

They didn’t need Robin to tell them what came next.

The emperor was dead, but the rest of the syndicate still needed to be dealt with, before they could choose another corrupt asshole as their leader.

After a brief chat with the ally leaders, Robin’s ordered the court to move out.

I was surprised when she didn’t direct us to the heart of the syndicate’s territory with the naga and griffins.

Instead, she took Yukio, Dusek, and Josh aside—our fastest travelers—and sent them to deliver messages to the leader of our allies out in the field.

Then, we headed home on foot. Toward The Fox.

The city was alive with fighting—every street was lit by a different skirmish, every shadow carrying the grunt of impact or the scream of someone realizing the syndicate wasn’t indestructible after all.

We engaged when needed, helping the unaligned paranorms and homeless humans fight off groups of syndicate assholes whenever we came upon them.

And as we marched through the streets, others joined us, until we led a chanting parade of rebels.

Eventually, we reached the theater. It was a sad sight, and I was surprised at the sharp pang it caused inside me. Half the building was in ruins, rubble strewn into the side streets and the disguised front door blown out. Our home. Our sanctuary.

It’s just a building , I reminded myself firmly. Don’t be such a baby. But my eyes met the gazes of the others, and I knew I wasn’t the only one mourning a stupid old building.

Robin stopped at the base of the steps, then strode to the landing so she could look down on the people who had gathered on the street.

I could feel her heat even from several paces back.

She was shaken, though she wouldn’t let it show.

And she was still adjusting to the magic she had just reclaimed.

Power burned in her, raw and dangerous. But it wasn’t the unhinged, uncontrollable power from before.

No, this was even more deadly. Focused on a purpose.

She crossed her arms over her chest, took up a power stance, and waited, chin lifted, eyes trained on the street and the sky around us, as Ruya and Sadavir joined her.

The rest of the court spread out on the steps in a show of power and solidarity.

“The syndicate ends tonight,” she said. Her voice wasn’t loud, but it cut through the noise of the crow and the sounds of distant fighting like a blade. “No more waiting. No more petty games. Their corrupt rule is over.”

And—gods help me—I believed her. We had done it.

Were doing it right now. Everything was about to change.

I risked a glance at Ruya, knowing that she would vehemently oppose the brutality that was about to come.

I had heard her trying to cajole Robin into being merciful.

But I knew what those messages Robin had sent out with the others meant. A purge was about to take place.

Still, I stood my ground and I waited. Brutality was the only language the syndicate knew, and the rebel court was fluent. Besides, the people gathered in the streets, and those who hadn’t survived to see this day—the syndicate’s victims—deserved whatever justice we could give them.

This part of Detroit had always been cracked stone and broken glass, and buildings half-falling in, ever since the area was abandoned and became home to the unaligned.

But tonight, it pulsed with a restless, unstoppable energy that vibrated in my bones.

All around us, paranormals who had spent decades hiding showed their teeth.

The noise rose, slowly growing closer as the tension in the court around me built.

Chanting. Singing. Heckling. The march and shuffle of a thousand feet or more.

Then the griffins came, swooping down from the sky, carrying people in their talons.

Shifters. Fae. Vampires. All the members of the top echelons of the syndicate.

A ring of salamander shifters gathered before the steps, dripping fire from their bodies as they paced, caging in the syndicate members.

Some of the syndicate leaders shrieked and pleaded their innocence, some raged and threatened, and some simply stood or knelt with a sort of numb resignation, as if they had already accepted what was coming.

I blinked when I saw a couple of giants join the back of the gathering crowd. They had long been thought extinct. But Robin’s reach was awe-inspiring. The naga slithered down alleys, blades slick with blood, while griffins came to land, joining the crowd.

And in the gaps, ordinary paranormals—the ones who had lived under the syndicate’s heel—waited with makeshift weapons and wild, gleaming eyes, breath held as they no doubt wondered if they would finally have justice.

I breathed it in: rebellion, raw and ragged. It stank of blood and… hope.

Two final griffins descended with a struggling man held between them.

Fae magic sparked, but his spells failed, blocked by the iron shackles on his wrists and the obvious suppression magic someone had cast on him.

The shifters dropped the fae from a bit higher up than their other deliveries, as if they wanted to insure he broke something when he landed.

The sight of O’Dell kneeling in the dirt, his fancy silk shirt splattered with blood and his hair dull with dust was a beautiful sight. Acacia was dead. So was Polst. O’Dell was the only remaining leader of the syndicate factions that we hadn’t murdered yet.

I sent a sideways glance at Yukio. Our emotionless pixie didn’t try to hide what he was feeling this time. The slow, evil grin that curled his lips made it clear how glad he was to see his old king and tormentor.

Robin and Ruya stood side by side, regal and powerful as a couple of queens, the naga prince standing a slight half-step behind them. They were flanked by the rest of us in an obvious show of power and strength as Robin delivered her speech.

“The emperor is dead,” Robin said, her voice ringing as her words and Ruya’s staggering omega aura commanded the attention of every person gathered here. “The syndicate is no more. And those who took part in decades of murder and oppression will answer for their crimes.”

It was awe-inspiring to witness. I knew Robin was a born leader, of course.

I had pledged myself to her even though I was an alpha myself.

Everyone in our court followed her more or less without question.

But now I saw just how strong her charisma and natural alpha influence really was.

Everyone hung on her every word, deferred to her in this as if she had been born to be their leader.

As if she really was royalty, rather than an orphan with a vendetta.