Page 103 of Unleashed

Quinn and Orishok.

Finding them was the priority. They were the only ones who might have means of healing Nina’s wounds. The only ones who could save her life.

He dared not look at Nina again for fear that the sight would break him, would reduce him to a beast driven purely by rage, pain, and grief. His heart beat along with hers, but how long could hers keep going? It was so weak already…

Hold on, Nina. Do not give in.

Her voice pulsed in his mind.Still here… They’re coming. Close…

He didn’t know who she meant; her parents? His people? Regardless, he continued onward.

The huge doorway opened onto a wide bridge, its stonework dark gray in the sunlight. A cool breeze swept over Aduun as he led his people across. The air carried hints of mountain grass and coming rain.

The open space beyond the bridge was the same as the one below, save for the vibrant green vegetation growing along the edges of the stone-paved ground and the lack of a statue overlooking the pit. For a moment, he allowed his gaze to drift over the mountain peaks in the distance. They were familiar. This was the Sonhadra he’d known.

“Nina!”

The shout drew Aduun’s attention to the road on the right side of the chasm ahead. Two people were sprinting along it toward him — one a tall, powerfully built male with gray skin, one of Aduun’s kind, and the other a slight female with pale hair and a long spear in one hand. Ahoomin.

“Nina!” the female shouted again, desperation apparent in her tone but not dominating her voice. Her eyes shifted to Nina, who was bloody and unmoving in Vortok’s arms, and widened for an instant before her expression shifted to something fierce. She took the shaft of her spear in both hands and aimed it at Vortok. “You put her down!”

The gray-skinned male stepped in front of her. He held no weapons, but as he moved, his bodychanged. Armor plates formed over his skin, long spikes grew from his shoulders, and black blades extended from the tops of his wrists.

Aduun met the male’s eyes.

Orishok.

He knew it in his heart, though Orishok had been so young when they’d last encountered one another more than a thousand years before.

Then a lifeless, skull-like mask formed over Orishok’s face, blue-green light glowing within the eyeholes. He advanced quickly, surprisingly so for the apparent bulk of his armor. The scent of death preceded him.

“Dad, no,” Nina said, voice strong despite the pain Aduun knew she was suffering.

Orishok slid to a halt and turned his head toward her, keeping his armblades up. “Nina.” There seemed to be some relief in that deep, raspy, multi-toned voice. “What have they done to you?”

“Not them. Kelsharn.”

The name carried great weight, even here in the sunlight and open air; it crashed down upon the gathering and swept over them.

Aduun took a step forward. Orishok looked at him, making no move to either relax or attack, and watched as Aduun tossed the bloody, horned helmet onto the ground. Orishok’s eerie gaze settled on the mask for a long while; Aduun could guess at his kinsman’s thoughts, though Orishok’s armored face was unreadable.

Finally, Orishok straightened. The changes to his body reverted, vanishing into him, and within a few moments, he looked as he might have before Kelsharn had made him into a valo. He strode forward, stopping before Vortok, and held his arms out.

“Give me my daughter.”

Vortok’s shoulders rose and fell with heavy breaths. He glanced at Aduun questioningly.

Aduun knew the struggle on Vortok’s face; it was a war of possessiveness and protectiveness, a battle of distinguishing what was right for her from the arrogance of thinking he knew what was best, that only he could keep her safe. Aduun nodded.

Vortok looked back to Orishok and carefully passed Nina to him. She curled against her father as he drew her close.

“Don’t hurt them,” she said softly. “They are my mates, and they are our tribe.”

Orishok glanced at Aduun over his shoulder, eyes narrowed. He searched Aduun’s face before looking to the other valos. He turned away without a word and walked toward the female. The woman met him halfway. Her face was pale, and her wide eyes were mismatched — one blue, the other green and bisected by a scar from brow to cheek. She gently touched her fingers to Nina’s cheek.

“What happened?” the woman asked.

“It does not matter now,” Orishok said. “She is close, Quinn. Too close.”

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