Page 42 of Tamed By Air (The Nature Hunters Academy 4)

“The clock is ticking, Shelly.” Osiris’s voice was no longer hard. “You will come to terms with this. And when I see you next, you will offer yourself to me of your own free will. I will accept nothing less than everything from you.”

The heat and emptiness that seemed to accompany him everywhere suddenly fled, and she knew he was no longer in the room. Shelly rubbed her hands over her face and tried to suck in air. When she realized she could not get herself under control, she ran for the first thing her eyes laid eyes on: an opulent statue of a naked woman. She picked it up and hurled it at the door. Next, she grabbed the lamp on the bedside table and threw it at the wall. It shattered, a symbolic image of the current state of the organ that beat in her chest. Shelly waged war on the room around her as if it was a living foe that fought back. She ranted and destroyed everything in her path until there was nothing left to break. Panting and exhausted, she dropped to her knees and reached for the bond that she knew still existed inside of her. She cried out, “RA!” His name carried, long and loud, until there was no air left in her lungs. Finally, she collapsed in a broken heap on the floor.

* * *

Rastumbledas he felt a massive pull in his chest, and then Shelly’s voice filled his mind. His own name reverberated throughout his skull, blocking out all other sound around him. The complete and utter desolation in her cry brought him to his knees. “Mery,” Ra whispered, her name a prayer on his lips. He reached back to her, pushing with everything inside of him, with every ounce of love and devotion he felt toward her, hoping she would feel him. He begged Mother Gaia to give her love and comfort to Shelly in her suffering. “I’m coming for you, Shelly. Just hold on a little longer. I swear to you, I will get you back, and I will never let you leave my sight again.”

His hands dug into the earth while his body shook from the sheer force of her anguish. Whatever doubts he’d had at taking Viscious up on his offer fled at that moment. He would do anything, absolutely anything, to rescue Shelly from Osiris’s clutches, even if it meant being indebted to the dark fire king and aiding the dark elementals. He would not sacrifice his soul mate, not even if it meant the rest of the world had to burn.

* * *

Shelly’s voicecracked and died as she lay on the floor, surrounded by broken fixtures and furniture. The shattered pieces were a fitting picture of her own fragmented form. Though her body looked whole on the outside, she was nothing but wrecked within.

Warmth abruptly filled her body, and Shelly’s heartbeat slowed as his voice—Ra, her love—filled her mind.

“I’m coming for you, Shelly. Just hold on a little longer. I swear to you, I will get you back, and I will never let you leave my sight again.”

Her hands opened and then closed as if she could somehow hold onto the sound. She wanted to keep playing it on repeat in her head. And though she uttered his words over and over again in her head, the emotion that had come with them had fled, leaving her empty. “Ra, please. Please.” It was the only word she could force from her mouth. She repeatedly begged for him to return to her. But only silence answered her pleas.

How much time did she have before Osiris would come for her? How long would it take Ra to save her? If she had to give herself to Osiris before Ra could get to her, how would she be able to face her soul bonded once she’d allowed another male to have her?

Shelly’s eyes landed on a piece of the shattered lamp. Sharp and jagged, it stared back, beckoning to her. A quick flick of the wrist and her torment would be over. Never in her life had she considered such an option. But now, she entertained the idea of making it all go away. The tears that had abated came back in full force. She didn’t want to die, but neither did she want to spend an eternity with Osiris.

“Hurry,” she whispered and hoped Ra could hear her.

* * *

Osiris kickedthe creature that walked beside him. Its constant groveling irritated him, with his continual stuttering and wringing his clawed hands. “Is there anything I can do, my lord?” it asked.

“Dammit, Crescious, leave me the hell alone,” he barked at the small demon. “Go spy on some of your fellows and see if there is anyone who needs to be tortured.”Ah, torture.Perhaps that would make Osiris feel like himself again. Maybe if he spent more time doing his hellish duties instead of attempting to woo that damnable woman then he wouldn’t be having these accursed feelings—feelings he’d never had before. He was the damn lord of the underworld, with emphasis on thedamn. He shouldn’t even be able to have these types of feelings for anyone, especially someone so … so … oh, what word was he looking for …pure.That was the word. Shelly was just too pure. Her devotion to her so-called soul bonded was entirely too pure. Osiris had to admit he’d underestimated the fireball.Why does she have to challenge me at every turn?

Crescious scurried off, muttering curses under his breath. Osiris stared at the wall of souls that writhed and moaned in their tortured state. As he looked at them, he searched for something within himself, some sign that he felt anything but contempt for his charges.

But why would he? They’d earned their place in hell, after all. They certainly hadn’t gotten here because they volunteered at the elderly home or sacrificed their money or resources.Shouldhe feel bad for them?

“I belong with them, after all.” He continued to stare. If their transgressions were abhorrent, then his were multiplied a thousand times over. “Dammit,” he roared as he felt a twisting in his gut. The heart that beat in his chest sped up as he realized, for the first time in his existence, he felt something other than hate, disgust, or abhorrence.

“It’s not possible.” He breathed out as he clutched at his chest. “There is no way this is happening.” Bile rose in his throat, and an overwhelming sense of shame cascaded over him like a crushing wave.

Osiris threw back his head and released his rage with a roar that shook the foundations of hell. He heard giant boulders fall and strike the floor. The wailing of the souls grew louder. He heard claws on the floor, and his eyes snapped downward. A pair of demons kneeled before him. He could see the blackness of evil within them. For once, he didn’t revel in it. Osiris was disgusted.

Before he realized what he was doing, the lord of the underworld threw out his hands, and hellfire shot from his fingertips. The flames hit their leathery flesh, and both demons gave an ear-piercing shriek. They lit up like gas-soaked torches. Within seconds, they were nothing but a pile of black ash on the floor. Osiris’s body shook with the need to destroy something, anything. He used his power to move through the levels of hell and reappeared on the seventh floor. The oppression and sickness that permeated this place was nauseating on a good day, but today it nearly brought him to his knees.

He, the lord of the underworld, felt abhorrent by the filth that inhabited this level. The thought made him sick. Osiris couldn’t think of a time in his long existence when he’d ever felt like vomiting. Why would he? He was a supernatural being. Yet at the moment, he had to swallow down the bile that rose in his throat.

“What the hell!” he bellowed and released more of his power. Hellfire engulfed his body and exploded outward. He shed the human guise he usually wore and let his demon form—the one he’d allowed Shelly to see—rise to the surface. Osiris heard the screeches and wails of the demons and souls that were too close when he’d lit up like a Roman candle. Satisfaction coursed through him at their demise.

Curses flew from Osiris’s mouth. He turned in a circle, letting his fire touch anything his eyes landed on. He pictured all the crevices and dark places that he knew existed in his realm. The lord of the underworld sent his fire into those concealed areas, knowing there would be wicked ones hiding there. When Osiris felt he’d extinguished enough of the evil souls and demons on this level, he took himself to level six.

Osiris didn’t think about what he was doing. He knew he could ponder his actions all damn day and not come up with an answer. Osiris had no idea what was happening to him. He just knew it couldn’t be good. The lord of the underworld couldn’t lose control. If he did, the demons would sense his weakness, and the dominion he held over them would wane.

Level after level, Osiris attacked his own realm, taking out the damned souls and the demons. With every soul he wiped out, Osiris felt a link in the metaphorical chain that tethered him to the underworld fall away. By the time he stood back in his throne room, he was breathless and covered in sweat. He ran his hand across his forehead and stared at the wetness on his palm. This wasn’t normal, obviously. He was impervious to the heat in hell. The devil didn’t perspire.

“Shit,” he muttered. He walked over to the throne and fell back into it, feeling exhausted, something else he shouldn’t be able to experience.

“Master.” Crescious suddenly appeared ten feet away. The little demon’s eyes fixated on the floor as he addressed Osiris.

“I didn’t call for you,” he snapped.

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