Page 103 of Shadowlands Omega

“Yes. She’s still fighting. It takes much more energy to keep her down than it did before.”

“It was easy when she was a girl. You hardly needed to influence Noon at all. She simply trusted us.”

Noon. The female’s name is Noon.

“I suppose we have Dark City to thank for that,” Omora snarls, massaging her injured shoulder. “No matter. It’ll be over soon.”

They all look to me then and the mood lifts between them, which for me can mean nothing good. “Lord Yaron will be here shortly,” Odette says, making me tense. “We will release the beast and he will walk willingly into our cage once he sees his precious little bondslave under our control.”

“And if he fights?” Omora says.

“He won’t fight,” Odette replies with a certainty I feel in my bones and hate that I feel it.I cannot be his downfall.“You saw how the Dark City Berserker was towards his Omega, and he is young and stupid. This Berserker is calculated and rational. He will walk willingly into a cage.”

They’re right. I know that. And I hate them for it.I’ll have to stop them.As if hearing my thoughts and knowing their futility — me, against three Fates, alone? — Odette gives me a knowing, evil look. I look away from her, over my shoulder, and happen to catch Owenna’s gaze. She shakes her head no once, swiftly, but for once I can’t read her and as quickly as she caught my eye, she looks away.

But Merlin sees.

The blonde is talking to a man with similar goggles to hers pushed up on his forehead. Through goggles of her own, she glances between my sister and me with her signature, trademark leer. The feeling of foreboding in my gut becomes nauseating. What’s she going to do? What are any of them planning? It somehow feels like they each have their own agenda here. Even the Fates…between them there is misalignment that, if I were a cleverer, angrier female, I might be able to figure out how to exploit…

Odette glances towards Shadow Ridge looming above us, separating us from the main island. “Where is he, anyway? I hate this fucking place. I’m ready to negotiate.”

“Negotiate,” Omora chuckles and the Fates all start to chuckle, and then that chuckle rolls into a loud laughter that fills me with ice, cold enough to douse my fire. I start to edge back, away from the Fates and the sleepwalking female and poor Sipho hanging in agony, but a boot to the spine keeps me from going far.

Merlin crouches down at my shoulder. “Whatever your plan is, you better get to it.” She chuckles when I don’t answer. “You just gonna let them kill you? Sheesh. Even Echo was made of tougher stuff. Had to shoot that woman a couple times and she kept crawling back. But you? You even got gifts?”

I purse my lips together and she shakes her head. She opens her mouth to say something else, but the caw of birds cuts between us like a strike of lightning. I flinch and follow Merlin’s goggled gaze up, up, up…and I gasp. Because the sky is filled with birds. Not one. Not a dozen — but thousands of them.

“She’s on us. Omora, handle it,” Odette hisses.

Sy says, “I won’t be much use to you until the Fallen Fire Omega is dead and I can wrap Noon back in her chains. As it is, she takes too much energy for me to concentrate on other illusions.”

“That’s fine. I have the Omega. Odette, you handle the Berserker.” Omora takes to the sky as a flock of vultures, all black with flecks of white among their feathers, and the two groups of warring birds meet in the sky like competing clashes of thunder.

“Well, things just got exciting,” Merlin says, giving my shoulder a squeeze that, from anyone else, I might have called reassuring.

“I…” I don’t speak — I’m not given a chance because a roar drags our attention back to the ground, back to the rocks that cascade down the ridge and the Berserker beast bounding down them looking…

Ancestors be…is that Yaron?

…he looks completely unhinged.

“Wow. Things have gotten very exciting. That’s my cue.” Merlin starts to walk away from me, and is she…is the bitchwhistling?She glances over her shoulder with a grin and adjusts her goggles as she heads for the end of the cliff where the traitors are working feverishly at the ropes, positioning themselves into twin lines on either side of them. They start to pull at Merlin’s command.

The Berserker beast roars again. I switch my gaze back to the Berserker that I suppose must be Yaron, only I’ve never seen Yaron like this. The beast is frothing at the jowls, its strong jaws closed around the handle of an enormous axe, its eyes no longer storm cloud grey but black and ringed in red, the pupils glowing like embers.

Constant rumbling roars fill the air, emanating from his chest, and are even louder than the cries of the birds fighting each other overhead. I hold my arm up, terrified that I might get knocked out as birds drop all around us, falling like rain in blacks and whites but mostly blacks, but as soon as they hit the ground, they vanish in clouds like smoke, but even more effervescent.

“Mother’s bastards!” Odette shouts. “The Berserker is in fucking rut! Sy!”

“I can’t release Noon! Weneedhim.”

“Then kill the Omega quickly and wrap Noon back in her chains! I need your help with this!”

“Can’t you do anything yourself?” Sy snarls, then curses, one of her knees buckling when the sleepwalking woman subtly sways. “Bring forth the creature, then!”

“Merlin,” Odette shouts, “open the cage!”

The traitors begin to pull the massive ropes on Merlin’s direction. Everyone but Owenna. She’s staring at me, an expression on her face I’ve seen many times before that makes my heart pound. She’s determined. And even though she turns towards me, the Fates don’t seem to notice. And shouldn’t they know better? Isn’t that how we all got into this mess? Underestimating a woman?

---