He vanishes from sight, possibly tired of trying to convince me I'm not as bad as those people were. I keep thinking about what he said. I'm not human. I have to stop thinking like a human. If it'll save Kane, then it's worth it.
I strain, trying to rip up that arbitrary line that separates right from wrong. Not a damn thing. I look constipated more than I look successful. It'd be nice if Freya had left me a damn how-to guide.
I stand up, tired of straining, worried I might force a brain aneurism, and I head to the bedroom where I'll stare at the ceiling instead of sleep. Kane needs me, and I'm completely powerless to save
him. If it was me in there, he would have already saved me.
As I pull the necklace over my head to put it away, a washing sense of something dark and hungry stirs within me, and a twisted grin spreads over my face. It's. About. Time.
Chapter 19
A Little Bit Bad
The ground shakes and quivers beneath me as I make my way toward the hidden prison the humans can't see. They shouldn't have fucked with my night stalker. They shouldn't have fucked with me.
The wind violently slaps anything that dares to stand up to it, and the weaker things fly through the air, giving up their endeavor to cling to the ground. Screeches ride through the air, letting me know the first wave of attacks are coming in the form of banshees. Foolish.
Their white hair whips in my winds as they appear and disappear, seeming to fly toward me, releasing their screams of death that would kill most.
I let out a powerful screech of my own, tasting the strength that could pierce the ears of the dead, and I watch as the white-haired women clap to the ground or run in retreat. The howls of wind set the music for the hell I plan to unleash. Only a fool would touch him. They'd better hope he's still alive.
Flashes of impossibly fast moving beings leave shadows around me as they hide in with the darkness, surrounding me, thinking they're taunting me. I taste the planes to the worlds of the souls opening, meaning these bitches hiding in the shadows of the darkness are valkyries.
"You can steal my soul," I murmur to the darkness, laughing in amusement when they refuse to answer. "If you can get close enough," I add, hearing their teeth grind when they feel I'm not giving them the respect they deserve.
Flashes of shadows dive after me in unison, but they collide when I vaporize, leaving nothing for them to pounce on. I look on, staying in a plane that offers a looking glass to the world below.
Then I descend, lashing out with orbs, webs, and fire. Screams erupt as they're struck with the powerful blasts of power, engulfed by the flames, and encased by the webs. Dodging their every attack, I repeat the cycle, losing my patience as their numbers pile up.
Two rush me from the sides, and I finally show them who the fuck they're dealing with, letting my eyes fall to their true color as I grasp them both by the necks. They don't gasp for air—they gasp because they just realized they never stood a chance.
"Freya," one whispers, making me smile in eerie delight.
"No. I'm stronger than Freya. You're lucky you don't deserve to die," I hiss before cutting their air off until they black out.
That's all of them. If there are anymore, they're not brave enough to attack—not yet.
The doors blow open in front of me, creaking in fear as I walk over the threshold. More valkyries appear, but one look at my eyes, and they retreat, screeching and diving into the planes of the souls they keep.
I sense him, taste the air he breathes into, and I follow his scent as a guide. With each turn, his scent grows stronger. With each step, his presence touches me more. Bars separate me from a corridor where I sense him the most.
Charmed bars.
I smile as I press one hand to the bar. That's all it takes. It collapses as though it was never anything more than a few bars of iron instead of impassible charmed holds.
As I come to the end of the corridor, another set of bars meet me, and behind them rests my night stalker. He sleeps. Peacefully.
I look around to see them all asleep. They don't move or acknowledge me, so it has to be a spell.
"Wake," I command, smiling as they all slowly rouse and rise from their sleep, and then freak the hell out when their eyes meet mine.
The dark-haired lycan glares at me, and I take a step toward her cage, smiling as I beg her heart is as black as her hair. Damn. It's not. It's too light.
"Alyssa," my night stalker says, drawing my attention back to him.
With a wave of my hand, all the bars in the room bend and contort to make room for the imprisoned to step out. The glowing blues meet my silvers, and I smile in anticipation as he wraps me up, pulls me to him, and presses those incredible lips against mine.
He pulls me tighter as the fire ignites from my mouth to his, and his fingers run through my hair as he roughly seizes control of the kiss.