Page 92 of Hell's Secret Omega

His brother’s gaze is sorrowful.“He is your mate. You should not be so cruel to him.”

He tries to beg with his eyes, his throat dry of words. He’s never felt so helpless. But Kalad only shakes his head.

“Let me help you.”

His brother raises one claw and slices his palm, lifting the hand to Mezor’s lips. Mezor is too weak to turn away. Warmth pours into his open mouth and he swallows instinctively. Kalad’s essence runs down his throat, bright and hot, lighting him up from within. It reaches into him, pouring like a river into the dry bed. His pain melts. His body grows light. Strength flows into him, and the ragged pieces of the bond weave back together.

For an instant, his mind goes blank and he drinks. Then he comes to his senses.

“No!” He jerks away, horrified. But it’s too late. His brother slumps forward. He’s given everything—his power sinks into Mezor’s body, shoring up his failing muscles and strengthening his brittle bones, replacing everything taken by the King. Like the flowers that float on the surface of Kalad’s pool, his soul is gentle and beautiful, healing Mezor from within.

But the more power is in him, the more the King will simply take.

“Kalad!” Cyrus grasps the massive, fallen head. But Kalad’s eyes have shut for the final time.

“He’s gone,” Mezor whispers. “Please Cyrus, go. Free yourself.”

Cyrus’s eyes are bright and terrified. “I thought you would understand.”

Mezor turns away even though it rips him apart inside. His body might be healed, but his soul isn’t free. He can’t turn his back on Hell, on his kin—if the last leaf withers on the vine his brothers will die in their sleep, and his home will be reduced to a wasteland forever. Without the King’s promise, his work will all be for nothing.

When Cyrus realizes Mezor has nothing left to offer him, he will be forced to flee—or worse, the corruption will take him, like it’s taken everything Mezor cares for.

It’s the only way.

“It’s no use.” Branok laughs cruelly, the noise echoing across the shore. “He won’t listen to you.”

“Let him go!” Cyrus cries. “You can’t take him from me.”

Branok’s reply shakes the bond. “It’s Hell he loves, not you. He will fulfil his end of the bargain and abandon you, the way he always planned. Your devotion is meaningless.”

The truth of his words tear at Mezor. The bond is on fire. Mezor claws at his throat, his teeth grinding against the agony as it multiplies. Breath refuses to enter his lungs. Cyrus chokes, his cries muffled by the encroaching aether.

“It hurts!”

Branok’s claws scrape the stone as he comes closer. “The bond is breaking,” he rasps.

Time slows. The cave fades.

Darkness swallows him.

“Mezor.”

The voice is a gentle drip of water on rock.

“Mezor. Brother.”

He rises. “Kalad? Is that you?”

Chapter 50

MEZOR

Kalad smiles.His voice is so achingly familiar that Mezor tries to reach for him—but his hand passes through the half-there vision.

“I am nearly gone,”Kalad says gently.“My power is depleted.”

“You sacrificed yourself for nothing,” Mezor murmurs sorrowfully.

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