Page 61 of Fractured Souls

Sweet man.

His words echoed in her mind like a mantra.

I intend to take you as my mate.

If anyone else had said it, she would have thought they were utterly insane.

“Hey.” Abbey leaned forward, her eyes full of warmth. She was calm and serene, a beacon of sanity amidst all this Kordolian strangeness. Alexis wondered what the hell she’d been through to be able to reach this state. “This is all perfectly normal. You have plenty of time. Those two probably won’t be done for some time yet, so why don’t you get something decent to eat, take a shower, get into something comfortable, relax a little? Don’t worry, I know how it feels. You’re only just starting to feel human again…”

“Yeah.” Alexis looked at her obsidian fingers, curled around the dainty porcelain teacup that had little pink and gold hearts on the side.

Then she laughed, even as tears welled at the corners of her eyes, and it was relief and sadness and excitement and joy, all at once.

“You’re home now, Alexis,” Abbey said gently, and she knew it was true.

There was no turning back now.

Sixteen

A searing bolt of pain shot through Nythian’s fist as it connected with Tarak’s nose, sending another spurt of blood down the General’s face. He was rewarded with a blow to his gut as Tarak’s claws raked across his exposed abdomen.

His body was covered in rapidly healing wounds. Vicious scratches across his face, his arms, his belly. Torn skin on his back. Broken bones. Nanites swarmed through his shattered jaw and cheekbones, knitting them together, making it feel as if a thousand tiny blades were being thrust into his face all at once.

He changed course, stepping backwards, using the General’s powerful momentum against him as he wrapped his hands around the bastard’s arm and pulled him down, landing on his back with a thud.

They grappled on the floor. Tarak locked his legs around Nythian and delivered several vicious blows to his body, his face, his neck, trying to get him to capitulate.

The pain was a wall of fire that completely engulfed him. Blood trickled into his left eye, partially blinding him. This was the kind of fighting Nythian lived for; dirty, brutal, no-holds-barred.

And they were both close to total exhaustion, their movements slower, wilder, lacking their usual deadly precision. Both of them were completely lost in the fight; they’d become primal, savage creatures, running on little more than pure instinct.

They lay on the floor, locked together in a supreme battle of wills, neither showing the other even the slightest sign of weakness.

Somehow, Nythian managed to get his arm around Tarak’s neck. In turn, Tarak dug his claws into Nythian’s belly and twisted. Nythian squeezed harder. Tarak twisted harder. Nythian’s blood gushed out onto the floor. The pain was so intense he started to black out, but still he squeezed harder, harder, his arm crushing down on the boss’s windpipe.

Only the fumes of his anger kept him going.

Kill him!

This bastard had defeated him so many times before.

Not this time. He had to win, had to dominate.

Kill him!

He squeezed harder, but the pain was almost unbearable, and he couldn’t move his arm anymore; he was at the very edge of his physical limits…

Fuck.

Gasping, Nythian relaxed his arm, just as Tarak removed his claws from Nythian’s belly.

They both surrendered at exactly. The. Same. Time.

The two Kordolians rolled flat onto their backs, breathing heavily. As he lay in a pool of his own blood, Nythian closed his eyes and drowned in agony. The nanites returned to his body, once again seeking to become one with the whole.

For a while, they were both silent, then Tarak spoke.

“A draw,” he grunted. Impossibly, he sounded both pissed off and proud at the same time.

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