Lights of Aurora (The Stone Legacy Series Book 3) (16 page)

The figure darted past her again, closer this time. Her stone wouldn’t have reacted this way if it were an ordinary animal. No. Zanya sensed a dark presence deep in her bones.

Hot air brushed against the back of her neck. A growl slid over her skin.

Zanya let go of the tree and stood up straight. She brushed her fingers together, grinding her foot into the soil for some balance.

Another hot breath sent chills down the back of her legs.

With a clenched jaw, she spun into a side kick.

Her attack landed. A shock rippled through the air. Something dark and heavy flew back and slammed into an immense oak. The impact splintered bark and wood in every direction.

The creature with black fur scrambled to its paws and shook leaves and soil from its body. The beast bared its teeth, growling.

Zanya’s eyes widened.

Its fur was wet and tousled. The scruff on its neck stood on end with its ears pinned back.

This beast was no stranger. The underworld demon was the same creature that had killed Sarian. It must have followed her to the middleworld, or more likely, was set free by Contessa.

The beast’s paws shifted in the cool earth. Zanya cocked her head and stretched her hands out to her sides. It was time to use her offensive abilities—powers she had never used before.

She gathered power deep in her gut. Electricity sparked over her skin, and strands of hair lifted off her shoulders with the electrical charge.

Lightning flashed through the air, followed by a clap of thunder through the otherwise weary morning. A bolt struck a nearby tree, splitting it in half. The shredded trunk tilted toward the beast.

It leapt out of the way, then wound between the trees, its tail whipping side to side. Its black eyes, dotted with flecks of gold, stayed locked on her.

The fear and hesitation she expected never came. Her stone’s power coursed through her veins, supercharging her abilities.

This is what she was meant to do. Who she was destined to be.

Only one of them would leave this battle alive.

Chapter Twenty

Arwan

This wasn’t supposed to happen. She wasn’t supposed to see him this way. Not in this form. Not under these circumstances.

Arwan’s fur twitched as he wove through the trees, tension coiling in his muscles. He was foolish to have come here, to the spot he and Zanya first connected. He should have stayed far from home—from her.

An electric ball sparked in Zanya’s hand. She wound her arm back and launched it directly at his head. He ducked, and the assault struck a tree behind him, blowing a hole right through it.

He let out a low growl.

Clearly her mother had told her who he was—what he was—and she hated him because of it. He should have told her the truth from the beginning, even if it meant losing her.

Another blast struck the earth beside his paws. Currents flowed through the soil, vibrating the ground beneath him.

He snarled, and she pursed her lips and squared her stance. She wouldn’t leave him alone. Not after she’d seen what he did to Sarian—what he was capable of doing to anyone.

His only two options were to flee or fight. Fighting would result in tragedy. He’d rather die than hurt her, though he wasn’t ready to die today.

He pinned back his ears and dashed into the jungle. Tree branches and leaves slashed at his snout as he sprinted forward. He would keep running until he reached the river. Once he crossed the water, the terrain would become too steep for her to follow.

A bolt of lightning struck the ground in front of him. He dug his claws into the loose soil, sliding to a stop just before he plummeted into the crater. Another bolt struck the earth behind him. Trapped, he turned to face her.

Zanya emerged from the trees, her hair whipping around her face, and her wolf-gray eyes illuminated with power.

Conjured winds tore through the jungle, blowing the trees with the power of a hurricane. He squinted and clenched his jaws, digging into the soil with his paws. He had to find cover or be thrown into the storm.

Her face tilted toward the sky, and scattered clouds gathered into a dense cyclone. The vortex reached for him. Trees cracked and bent under the velocity of the winds. Lightning flashed around them, so bright his vision blurred after every strike. Leaves and thorny branches whipped by.

She would destroy the entire jungle at this rate.

Zanya extended her hands and threw an energy ball, which struck him in the shoulder, and he flew back and slammed into a rock face. He huffed and scrambled to his feet, still fighting against the roar of the storm.

A tree uprooted from the forest floor and tumbled toward him. Before he could move, it plowed him into a rock and pinned him down. He snapped and clawed at the solid wood.

The wind died down, and Zanya stalked toward him.

She gave him no choice.

He called on all of his strength and pushed away the tree. He righted himself, his tail whipping side to side.

Her eyes were cold as steel, and her scowl only deepened the sharp stab through his chest.

“I know who sent you,” Zanya said as she built energy in her palm. “And when you see her in hell, you can tell her I was the one who sent you there.”

She threw a burst of power, and this one struck him in the chest. Electric shock racked his muscles. His vision went black, and the hum of the current rang in his ears.

He pulled in a breath. When the fog lifted from his sight, Zanya stood over him with a dagger clenched in one hand. She lifted it over her head, electricity crawling around her arms in preparation to deliver a fatal blow.

He huffed and clawed at the earth, but there was no point. If all he had left was to hide in the jungle all of his life, in the body of this beast, death was surely more merciful.

He rested his head on the ground and closed his eyes, soaking in the rays of sun. The light warmed his body.

He opened his eyes and stared up at her, then let out a soft whimper. Her hand shook with the blade still poised overhead. Sweat collected on her brow.

He wanted to tell her it was all right.

He slowly turned onto his side and lifted one paw into the air, exposing his chest. The quicker it was over with, the sooner he could forget about all of this.

Zanya plunged the knife into his chest. Hot, scalding pain shot through him as the blade drove deeper. He gagged and coiled into a ball, all the while fighting the instinctual urge to claw at the handle of the knife.

***

Zanya

Zanya stared down at the beast lying on the ground, blood pooling under its enormous body. There was no need to throw a force field up like she had anticipated. The animal didn’t even fight back. She stepped away as its chest rose and fell with longer pauses in between each breath.

The adrenaline that coursed through her veins had begun to fade, but she was still on edge. She had never killed anything before, and some part of her, deep down, ached with remorse. But it had to be done, and she was the only person capable of fighting such a beast. It was her role—one she’d have to get used to.

Zanya glanced up at the thick clouds dispersing overhead. She had called them there. This was the first time she’d used her abilities to manipulate the weather, and now her limbs felt heavy from the raw fatigue that followed.

Thankfully the fight with the creature was over, because she couldn’t have kept the cyclone going much longer. She slumped against a tree, her breath in rhythm with the creature’s as it began to slip into unawareness.

The sun cast warm light on the wolf-like animal. Its long tail lay lifeless over the ground, and its paws were padded more like a cat’s than a dog’s.

“
Stupid boy.
”

Zanya spun and threw an energy ball at the source of the voice. It crashed into Drina, but the attack simply washed over her, and she continued to stalk forward.

Zanya gasped and drew her hands back to her chest. She could have killed the old woman. Another lesson she needed to implement: don’t be so quick on the draw.

“Don’t come over here. It’s not dead yet.”

The old woman hobbled closer. If the creature lashed out in one last effort to kill, Zanya might not be able to protect them both.

“I told you, didn’t I?” Drina shouted, shaking her finger at the beast. “I told you, you silly, foolish boy, but you don’t listen. Stubborn!”

Zanya glanced back at the fading creature. Was Drina talking to it?

“You t’ink like a dumb animal.” Drina stalked past Zanya and approached the creature. She crouched beside it and extended her wrinkled hand, blotting its blood-soaked fur with her fingertips. A deep sigh escaped her chest. She slowly stood. “You will die if you stay like t’is.”

The beast let out a low rumble and pawed at the ground.

Drina shook her head, digging into a leather sack slung over her shoulder. “Change, and I will treat you.”

Its massive form and mud-caked fur shrank into the figure of a man.

But not just any man.

Arwan.

Zanya’s eyes widened, and she stumbled, grasping at branches to keep from falling to the ground. Her back slammed into a tree and the air was knocked out of her lungs.

Drina removed a scarf from her bag and draped it over Arwan’s naked form. He lay on the fallen leaves, his eyes closed and the color drained from his face.

Zanya’s limbs were heavy, and her head was spinning so fast, everything around her turned into a blur of green. She closed her eyes and swallowed, struggling to get her shit together. The panic attack had already wrapped around her lungs and heart. She fell to her knees, gripping her chest.

How could this be happening? How could he…? Zanya peered through the dark fog clouding the edges of her vision. Drina yanked the blade from Arwan’s chest, and a desperate cry tore through the air before Arwan’s body fell limp.

“No,” Zanya whispered. “He can’t be—”

Her eyes fluttered shut and she collapsed, her cheek pressed against the cool earth.

Chapter Twenty-One

Arwan

Quiet mumbles woke Arwan from his sleep. Before opening his eyes, he drew in a deep breath and touched his face.

No fur.

The scent of herbs and tea infused the air. He pried open his eyes and turned his head. The muscles in his shoulders and neck throbbed with every movement, and the wound in his chest burned with protest.

Drina was hunched in the corner of her small home, grinding herbs in a large basin. The light in the hut was low. He was thankful for that. His vision after changing back to his human form was always slightly impaired. It was something he would have to adapt to again—a side effect he’d completely forgotten about.

Drina scowled. “Foolish.” She continued to grind the herbs.

Arwan didn’t remember walking back to her hut, and there was no way she could have carried him. He shifted under a blanket covering him from the waist down. He held the quilt in place and pushed to a sitting position, groaning under the effort.

Drina stood and hobbled toward him with more salve. The bitter, pungent scent invaded his nose and throat. He turned his head as Drina brought it closer. His senses were still heightened.

“Salve will help you heal,” she mumbled, scooping a clump into her hand.

“I don’t want it.” He suppressed the urge to gag.

“I don’ ask if you wanted it.” She smeared the goo across the wound.

Arwan sucked in a breath and clenched his jaw as the salve hardened over the injury.

“Does it hurt?”

All he could do was nod.

“Good!” She slapped another layer over it and sat back as he grumbled and lay down again. The old woman huffed. “You are lucky. She nearly killed you.”

“That was the idea,” he mumbled. Sweat collected on his brow. He squeezed the blanket with all of his strength to take his mind off the searing heat from the new layer of herbs. “I don’t want to be this…” He swallowed against a dry throat. “This thing.”

“You are who you are. Not me or her or anyone can change t’at.” He heard her moving through the house but was too tired to open his eyes. “How did I get here?”

A low bubbling noise caught his attention, paired with the gamey, salty aroma of freshly cooked rabbit. He licked his lips.

“Balam. You almost died. I could not drag your lifeless body alone.”

Her comment carried more annoyance than he expected, but probably not as much as he deserved. She was right. He owed her more gratitude than what he was showing her—even if she had prevented him from passing into his next stage of life.

The scent of the food suffused the air, and his stomach growled.

Drina lifted a bowl of stew under his nose. “Be careful. It is hot.”

The rich aroma gave him the strength to sit up enough to eat. He took the terra-cotta bowl and brought it to his lips. He blew on the stew before taking in a mouthful.

Drina slapped his leg haphazardly. “Slow, boy. Eat slow.”

He paused, and then swallowed down more of the savory broth. He had never been so hungry in his entire life.

“What did you hope to gain from showing yourself to her?” Drina scooped some stew out for herself and settled on the floor beside him. She cupped the bowl in her hands and rested it in her lap, waiting for him to respond.

Arwan wiped broth off his chin with the back of his hand. “She wasn’t supposed to see me.”

“And the jungle? The trees are stripped of t’eir leaves. May not recover.”

Arwan frowned. “I couldn’t stop her. She was too powerful.” The hatred in her eyes had torn into him. His stomach rolled in protest of eating anything else. “Where is she? Is she all right?”

Drina gestured outside. “She is here, waiting for me outside. Needs help. Confused. Angry.”

Arwan sat up straight—too quickly. His wound throbbed.

Drina huffed. “You have no sense. No sense at all.” She shuffled to her feet. “The guardian needs food. Guidance.” She glanced at the door to her hut, covered with a single piece of fabric. “You must stay here and rest.”

Drina dished up another bowl of stew and carried it outside. Fresh, crisp sunlight assaulted his eyes. He shielded his face until the flap of fabric fell limp over the door once again, shrouding the room in shadow.

This was his chance to talk to her. To explain. It may backfire, but he had to at least try. That, or spend the rest of his life wishing he would have.

His clothes had been torn to shreds when he shifted to his other form. There was nothing else but the quilt to cover him, so he gathered it around his waist and limped toward the arched door.

Warm winds pushed aside the flap of fabric and caressed his skin. He drew in a deep breath and stepped outside.

Zanya sat on a log beside Drina, who was examining large, crumpled papers. That must have been why she was still here. Surely she hadn’t stayed for him.

Zanya was dressed in training gear, something he hadn’t noticed in his other form. She raised her gaze. They locked eyes for a mere moment, and the air between them immediately thickened with tension. She looked away and shifted her weight.

He balled his fists as the darkness inside of him clawed and scratched in his core. He bore down, suppressing it until the urge to change subsided.

With the solstice quickly approaching, and him changing for the first few times in decades, the power of his dark side was stronger than ever. He drew in more deep breaths until the beast within fell silent.

He could control it. And he would. Somehow.

He would not let him and Zanya end like this.

Not because he was afraid.

***

Zanya

Zanya struggled to focus on Drina, but the raging heat in her veins drowned out the woman’s voice. She swallowed down the lump in her throat, hoping with everything she had Arwan would leave her alone.

He limped toward them, struggling to hold a tattered quilt around his waist. A thick patch of salve was piled over the knife wound on his chest. His tanned skin glistened under the midafternoon sun, and his muscles twisted and bulged with each advance.

She looked at Drina, whose wrinkles deepened with a puckered frown.

Arwan stopped feet away. “Zanya.”

His silky voice tore away what little patience she had. She stood, her stomach tightening more with every second she looked into his dark eyes. “You stay away from me. Far,
far
away.” The light in her chest burst to life for all the wrong reasons, but she wouldn’t give any effort to suppress it. Not for his sake. Not anymore.

“I know you’re angry.”

“
That
is an understatement.” She glared. “You’re a damn liar.”

He winced at her words. “I’m sorry.”

“Just leave me alone.” She stepped back. “I don’t have anything to say to you.”

“I understand if you don’t want to see me right now—”

“
Right now?
” The pain and heartache exploded from inside her, and she threw an electrical ball straight at his chest.

He ducked, effectively dodging the attack. When he rose, he stared at her with wide eyes—and no blanket wrapped around his waist.

Her body flushed with blistering heat. Zanya gasped and spun around. “Can you
please
put something on?” For God’s sake, the pull of the solstice didn’t give her any mercy. Her heart pounded, and her body ached with raw hunger for his touch.

“I don’t have any clothes.”

“Well, that’s not really my problem.” She crossed her arms, tapping her foot. “Can I turn around now?”

There was a short pause before he spoke again. “Yes.”

When she did, Arwan was tightening a knot in the blanket, which was now secured around his waist. His legs trembled, and he rested against a tree for support. “I didn’t want any of this to happen.”

“You lied to me. I could have dealt with the whole half-underworlder thing. I may have even learned to be okay with you being the crown-freaking-prince of darkness. But…” She examined him. He looked so different from his beast form. “What the hell are you?”

He pushed back strands of hair that had fallen in front of his face, offering nothing but silence.

“It’s fine. Don’t bother explaining. All those things you said, all the bullshit you fed me about how you would never hurt me…did you forget all that?”

He squared his jaw. “I haven’t forgotten.”

“Then you sure as hell didn’t mean it. Not a damn word.” The last statement came out in a breathless whisper.

“I meant it, Zanya.” He stepped toward her, his gaze intense. “I never wanted to hurt you. All I have ever wanted was to keep you safe.”

“And who the hell is supposed to keep me safe from
you
?” She bit her lip, her throat aching. “I don’t know you, Arwan.” She shook her head. “And it’s pretty damn obvious I never did.”

Arwan staggered back. The shattered look in his eyes cut her even deeper, but she held strong. How could she allow herself to be so vulnerable? Her heart had already been broken once by a guy who wasn’t who he’d said he was. Falling for Jayden was a stupid mistake. A mistake she’d
never
make again.

“Look.” She swallowed. “I’m not going to tell you to stay away from Renato’s house. That’s not my place. Just—” She sat beside Drina on the fallen log. “Just stay away from me.”

“T’at…” Drina tipped her chin up and looked at him. “T’at cannot happen.” The old woman stood and turned to Zanya. What seemed to be raw, untainted panic flooded her wrinkled features. “You must. You
must
be toget’er. You must, or…” She held the pages out to Zanya. “Or the middleworld is destined to burn.”