Page 89 of Hell's Secret Omega

But all he gets is a throbbing hand.

He falls back with a groan, covering his face. Maybe what he feared all along is true—that he’s just a weak soul, whose power in this universe amounts to nothing.

Maybe Mezor was wrong about him.

As he stares up at the shimmering leaves of the world tree, the rock under his back shudders.

Then it gives a thunderous crack.

Shouting, Cyrus tumbles off the boulder into the water. Snapping ricochets over the pond. He gapes as a vast, stony back rises from the pond, shedding rock and moss and other debris into the water with plops. The figure rises…and rises…and rises, until he towers high above Cyrus, his legs the size of tree trunks, his hands like massive shields. His eyes blaze blue as the flowers on the shore. Long tangles of hair spill across his shoulders like weeds, and from his forehead sprouts a pair of pronged horns, white as bone and as big as the branches of the world tree.

The figure reaches behind him and yanks out the white arrow.

“Little demon…why have I woken?”

A chill breaks out over Cyrus’s skin. “Kalad?”

“That is I.”

A massive hand comes down, and suddenly Cyrus is airborne.

“Hey!” he cries.

The shepherd god sets him down on the shore. Waves lap at the shoreline, disturbing the flowers.

“Who are you?”

Cyrus straightens, summoning his courage. “I’m Mezor’s mate. Cyrus.”

Kalad looms. His face is reminiscent of Mezor—craggy and stern, but handsome. The difference is that his nose is the length of Cyrus’s hand from wrist to claw-tip, and his teeth are the size of Ekko’s claws. And when he speaks, his mouth doesn’t move—the words come to Cyrus inside his mind.

“What does that mean?”

“Why did you wake in the first place if you don’t know?” Cyrus huffs.

“I sensed your anger. Your need. Your…despair.”

“Did you never sense those things from Mezor?” he demands. “He visited you. He mourned the loss of his home and his family, and all of you turned your backs on him.”

“Mezor was never angry like you. Our gentle Hunter.”Kalad’s voice is sad.“He called to me, but I could not return from the dark. Now…I feel stronger.”

He straightens to his full enormous height, looking out over the forest. From the world tree, Ekko takes flight suddenly.

“That’s because of Mezor. He made a deal with the King, and the King gave him these seeds to plant.” Cyrus points at the world tree. “Thanks to him, they’re healing the realm.”

Kalad swings his head.“Ah. A tree from Yden. Our brother did this?”

Cyrus nods. “But it’s not done yet. It won’t be done until he sacrifices himself.”

“Sacrifice?”A flicker of uncertainty enters Kalad’s voice.

Cyrus picks up his clothes and yanks them on over his wet skin. “Yes! Sacrifice. The world trees siphon away the corruption, but the realm won’t be fully cleansed until the King uses all of Mezor’s power to do—whatever he plans to do.”

Kalad sways gently from side to side, creating a breeze that stirs the leaves. He hums.“The Ydentrees are powerful enough to heal the realm on their own. Slowly, but it will happen.”

Cyrus’s heart clenches.

“Well, that’s not what Mezor believes! The King is going to steal his power—hissoul. He thinks it’s necessary. He’s willing to give up everything for the realm. For you.”

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