Page 94 of Draekora

He just looked at her, his gaze furious but his body perfectly relaxed thanks to her command.

Hating what she’d inadvertently done, Alex softly said, “Please be—um, please be you again.” She felt the tugging of her command between them and finished, “Do what you want, say what you want. For the moment, just act like you would if there was no bond between us.”

Niyx’s eyes flashed with her order and his body immediately tensed with pent up rage. Then, without any warning, he drew his sword from the sheath still strapped to his back from his hunting trip and charged at Alex.

Twenty-Nine

Alex only just managed to leap outof the path of his attack, scrambling backwards onto the balcony and into the rain.

“Niyx, what are you—” She had to cut off her cried exclamation when he came at her again, forcing her to duck out of the way and continue retreating from him.

When the low railing met the backs of her legs, she knew she couldn’t afford a repeat tumble off the spiral tower, not with Xiraxus grounded in Draekora because of the storm. So when Niyx swung his sword at her again, she did the only thing she could—she summoned A’enara and met his weapon mid-air. Blade crashed against blade, with blue fire blazing along Alex’s arm, swirling around them both with her movements.

“Please don’t do this, Niyx,” she called to him over a loud crack of thunder, using her free hand to wipe rain-soaked hair from her eyes.

“Is that anorder, Aeylia?” he demanded, swinging at her again.

“I won’t make you stop,” she promised him. “But I’m asking you to.”

“Then you’re going to have to ask nicer,” he returned, and with a cry, he lunged towards her again.

She had a fraction of a second to centre herself, but she used that fraction wisely, forcing in a calming breath and just—onlyjust—managed to flick the internal switch on her Meyarin senses in time to meet his attack.

It was then that their fight began in earnest.

Niyx was relentless in his assault. Fuelled by uncontrolled rage, he stabbed, slashed, parried and charged at Alex over and over again as she slipped and slid across the slick balcony. She met him almost strike for strike, but only because he was so blinded by fury that he wasn’t fighting well—just desperately. It was the only reason she didn’t order him to stop; she knew he needed to get it out of his system. The fear of nearly having died, the relief that he was still alive, and the anger that his will was no longer his own. She knew what he was feeling; she’d been there herself.

The skies flashed and thunder deafened their ears, but still their fight continued. Alex hadn’t battled many Meyarins in either timeline, only Aven, Roka and Zain, but she could tell Niyx was uncommonly skilled with a blade, even rampaging blindly as he was. She was hard pressed to hold up a defence against him. With the strength of his assault, Alex had no hope of striking any kind of offensive manoeuvre herself, but she hoped to be able to stay standing long enough for him to burn off his wrath and come to his senses.

However, when she slipped and her feet slid from underneath her, Alex knew she was in trouble.

Sprawled out on her back, she looked up through the rain, her Meyarin sight allowing her vision to remain crystal clear as she took in the form of Niyx standing above her like an avenging angel. His sword was pointed down at her chest, holding her in place, his eyes spearing her like shards of purple ice.

“Tell me not to,” he dared, his voice ragged, pressing the tip of his blade against her heart.

Her pulse was erratic and she was panting wildly, both from the fight and from her fear, but she shook her head. “I won’t.”

To prove her point, she released her grip on A’enara and it disappeared from sight.

“Tell me not to!” Niyx repeated in a shout.

“I won’t!” she yelled back at him.

They stared at each other, their furious gazes locked, until Niyx released a savage growl, closed his eyes tightly and stepped away. He spun on his heel and threw back his arm, hurling his sword with all his strength and sending it smashing against the wall of the palace where it clattered to the ground. He then turned back to Alex and, shocking the stuffing out of her, reached down and yanked her to her feet, dragging her roughly back into the shelter of her room.

As if the heavens were playing a great joke at their expense, the rain started to ease and the storm dispersed, leaving them in an eerie silence as they dripped water all over her floor.

“So…” Alex said, needing to fill the silence. “You can fight.”

The look he sent her was scathing. “Unlike you, I’m a real Meyarin—of course I can fight.”

“Hey, I managed to hold my own out there, didn’t I?” she defended, crossing her arms.

“You did,” he returned. “And I’d be curious how you managed that if I didn’t already know the answer.”

“And what answer’s that, smarty pants?”

“You’ve been Claimed before,” he said. “And even though you’re not anymore, somehow the Meyarin blood has stayed with you.”

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