Page 100 of The Stone Initiation
“I have to go. Selas said to tell you that training is still on.”
“She’s not going with you?”
“Goodnight, Cameron. I’ll see you soon.”
He hung up.
I stared at the phone for several seconds, then closed the window and climbed into bed in the sexy crimson slip.
It was a gift from him, he’d touched it, and now that it was against my skin, it was almost as if he were touching me too. And this was crazy. It was insane to feel this way about someone I’d barely spent any time with, but it was real and there was no running away from that. The question now was how we’d manage it because the conversations on the phone might calm down the physical mating urge, but a new urge was building. A new bond. An emotional one, and I had a gut feeling, managing that was going to be the hardest task of all.
CHAPTER43
SERATH
Outpost ten is the closest outpost to Graynite territory. Home to two alpha teams, it’s considered a hotspot, and it’s one of the elite team’s main bases. But after the loss of Romi, the Stone Council ordered us to pull back to the academy, a location hidden by powerful arcana and inaccessible to the Graynites.
They’re afraid to lose any more elites. We are the strongest of our bloodlines, which gives us the greatest potential to take down the alpha. We’re essentially the most powerful weapon the Stone Council have…At least we were.
Without a Basque we’re nowhere near full strength. Without a Basque we are no longer the ultimate weapon.
Willowman warps us to the base where guardians are out in force, running back and forth from the main barracks to the tower. The stench of blood is strong in the air.
Someone screams, high pitched and feral.
My skin itches.
“Fuck,” Orix says. “That sounds bad.”
“Three injured,” Willowman says. “One dead.”
“We’ll need to reinforce,” Orix says. “Outpost six can send guardians. Prasan is on it.”
He’d wanted to come with us, so had Selas, but orders from HQ were clear. Only two elites, a Halle and an Albion, and the reason was simple, both of us had potential replacements who could step into our shoes immediately if we got taken down.
Orix heads to the tower to get a report from the alpha team leaders, but I head to the barracks where the sound of roars and screams intensifies.
“I’m going to check the wards,” Willowman says before vanishing into thin air.
The barracks have been converted into a medic’s den and three gargoyles are laid out on the ground, one unconscious the other two writhing and bleeding. Steam rises off pulsing red welts in their stone skin and my scar burns at the sight.
I remember this pain. The agony. But my wound was confined to one area, whereas these males…they have wounds all over.
A medic applies a green poultice to the unconscious goyle. It should draw out the venom and allow him to heal. The others twist and cry out every time their medics touch their wounds.
“Add more, now,” a female gargoyle orders. “Dammit, Braen do I have to do everything myself?” She growls and snatches the poultice bowl off one of the medics, and sets to work on the injured gargoyle herself, jaw set in determination.
“The poultice isn’t working, Janna.” the gargoyle working on the unconscious male says.
Janna’s jaw ticks. “Keep applying it. It has to work.”
I step into the room, and she glances up at me, her eyes flaring. “Serath…”
“Janna. Let me help.”
“Nothing you can do here. Please tell me you brought Willowman.”
“Someone call my name?” Willowman steps into the room and takes in the scene. “Fuck.”
