Page 71 of Cosmic Power

Two silver creatures blinked in front of him. If Luther was surprised, he didn’t show it. He just pulled another sword from the scabbard on his back and twisted both swords around his body, taking a powerful stance.

Zamorra held her breath as she watched. Her heart pounded in her chest and she wanted desperately to get the fuck out of the chair and help him.

Blinking in and out of view, the silver-armoured creatures attacked together, striking out at Luther from all sides. So attuned was Luther in his senses that he was able to foresee his opponents’ moves and block them. He used both swords as he walked back, his footwork impeccable as he parried one of the attacks before the creature vanished to attack him from a different angle, just as the other creature did the same thing from the other side.

Despite teleporting all over the place, the silver-armoured creatures couldn’t get past Luther’s defences—and it angered them more and more. It was as if the swords belonged in his hands, like they were an extension of himself rather than being inanimate objects. He had complete and utter focus.

Frustrated, one of the creatures blinked behind him, hoping to catch him off guard. Luther spun, bringing up his sword to block while at the same time parrying another slash aimed for his body. Luther headbutted the silver-armoured creature in front of him, smashing his nose with his skull, and kicked him square in the chest, sending him flying. Luther blurred after him, pushed off the ground in a powerful jump and brought his sword down hard into the creature’s face while he was still in the air, driving him down into the ground.

Luther pivoted on his feet, narrowly missing the sharp-edged sword from the other creature who had teleported behind him. He twisted, jabbing his own sword into the silver-plated armour, and it bounced off like it was nothing. Not a single dent or scratch on it.

“Your weapons are no match for us,” the silver armoured creature hissed, baring his little fangs.

“Perhaps not.” Power burst from Luther in a wave and knocked the creature off his feet. “But my power outweighs yours.” His smirk was dark, evil. He advanced in a blur and his opponent blinked away, appearing a second later thrusting his sword towards Luther’s heart.

Luther blocked with the sword in his right hand, twisted the sword in his left in a reverse grip, and swiped the sharp edge across the creature’s exposed throat. Purple eyes widened in shock and he dropped his sword, hands grabbing at his bleeding wound. He fell to his knees, choking and gurgling, as dark purple blood spilled from his lips. Not wasting a single moment, Luther swung and cut his head clean from his shoulders.

He turned and locked eyes with Zamorra. The air crackled between them and she sucked in a breath, overcome with so many emotions. Shock, happiness, awe—and despite the precarious situation she was in, lust. It curled down her spine, pooling in her belly. She wanted desperately to get her hands on him. The blood of his enemies dripping down his body only served to turn her on more.

He was magnificent. The true definition of a warrior. So much strength. So much power. A dark and terrifying presence vibrated from him and it did nothing but fuel her desire for him.

Her werewolf purred at the pure, masculine dominance he radiated. She wanted to sink her teeth into his skin and mark him as hers.

Zamorra didn’t have an issue with that in the slightest.

Luther blurred in front of her so fast her silver hair whipped off her shoulders. Putting his swords away, he gripped the iron cuffs around her wrists and pulled, shattering the metal with ease. Then he ripped the ones around her ankles, freeing her entirely.

Ignoring the mind-numbing pain from her abdomen, Zamorra scrambled up his powerful frame, wrapping her legs around his torso and her arms around his neck, hugging him close. She didn’t care if it made her look weak. Words couldn’t convey how happy she was to see him.

“You came for me,” she breathed into the crook of his neck, her body shaking from all the adrenaline.

“Of course I did,” he grunted, gripping her tightly. “You’re mine.”

He smelt just as good as Zamorra remembered. The feel of all those hard, toned muscles beneath her fingertips made her melt into a puddle of goo. Zamorra clutched tighter and tighter, her chin resting on his broad shoulders.

Five supernatural beings chanted rhythmically as the battle raged on around them, magic burning from their words. Their gazes were locked on the four gold-armoured creatures standing in front of the purple portal, anger and hatred blazing from deep within their souls. A vampire, demon, shifter, light mage and dark mage. Tremendous power coiled from their bodies as they chanted, prickling her skin and making the hair on the back of her neck stand up. Supernaturals guarded them from all sides, protecting them from the silver and bronze-armoured creatures.

“Who are they?” Zamorra whispered in awe.

Luther turned slightly, his body tight with tension. He manoeuvered her so she hung on his hip as he pulled the sword from his back. He wasn’t prepared to let her go just yet. “The Ancestrals.”

A cube force field of pure magic slammed down around the creatures and the portal, blocking them in. The chanting continued and the cube shrunk in size. One of the creatures touched it with his fingers and he hissed in pain, yanking his hand back. It shrunk again and three of them backed up, stepping closer to the portal. They had nowhere else to go. Either they returned to where they came or the cube would burn their skin.

The Gold King smirked. “It is too late. We have found you. You can hide from us no longer.” His purple eyes locked on her and she stiffened.

In unison, the gold-armoured creatures raised an arm. Bodies launched through the air, flying towards them. Zamorra was one of them. She was ripped from Luther’s grip by a strong magical force and hurled straight through the red and white force field and into the Gold King’s waiting hand, his fingers wrapping around her throat. He spun her to face the crowd, her back smacking into his golden armour.

Luther roared and ran for her, blurring at high speed.

“Stop him! Do not let him reach the force field!” The Ancestral Vampire exploded in a rage.

Dozens of vampires pounced on Luther at once, trying to hold him down. He snarled, ripping them away and into the air. But the more he flung away, the more came at him, smothering him until he was buried in a sea of bodies.

The cube shrunk again in size, forcing the creatures to step further back to avoid the force field.

Zamorra choked and scratched at the hand around her throat. She could barely breathe, her face turning purple.

The creature holding her gripped her close, licking her cheek as he stared at the Ancestrals watching on. “Once we have learned all we can about this world, we will return. And we will take it from you like we took your last.”

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