Burning Dawn
Page 6

 Gena Showalter

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Elin debated whether or not to risk sitting up. Lying in bed while a superstrong warrior with a massive hard-on loomed over smacked of stupid. She was vulnerable. And shaky. And achy. But one wrong move could send this particular warrior into a tailspin that led straight back to the grunting, psychotic caveman.
Stupid or not, she remained in place.
“Kendra will strengthen, yes, but her tie to you will not. That will be broken with her second death, and won’t reform with her next regeneration. You’ll be free—and then, if you want to, I don’t know, escort me, your new best friend, back to civilization, I would be forever grateful.”
He thought for a moment, more and more fury rolling off him. “You are sure my tie to her will be broken?”
“Yes. But if you feel yourself falling back under her spell, take one of these.” She opened her hand, revealing the remaining two cubes of Frost.
Removing the medicine from Kendra’s locket had been easier than she’d anticipated. The Phoenix had drunk herself into a stupor and hadn’t noticed when Elin tiptoed to the side of the bed and fiddled with the locket.
Thane snatched the cubes and tossed them in his mouth, swallowing.
Or eat them now. Whatevs.
The tent flap lifted, and in stepped a guard on patrol.
Great! Premature rejoiceulation. Thane wasn’t ready for a full-on rebellion.
Sand flung from the guard’s boots as he stomped toward her. “Hey,” he barked. “You’re not supposed to be in here.”
Fear drove her to the other side of the bed. Head down. See nothing. Say nothing. The guard followed her, unconcerned by Thane, assuming he was on another lust-induced rampage to reach Kendra.
“Looks like someone’s due another reminder about her place.” Strong hands wrapped around Elin’s upper arm, surely bruising her. A whimper escaped her. She was jerked to her feet. “I’ll be happy to— Hmph.”
Thane grabbed the guard by the neck and snapped his spine.
The hold on Elin’s arm broke, and the male fell to the ground.
There was no crimson pool to stir her panic, and she released a sigh of relief.
Maybe Thane was ready for a full-on rebellion after all.
“Thank you,” she panted.
He was breathing too heavily to respond, his attention focused solely on the bed. Elin backed away. Just in time. Perhaps he was remembering all the horrible things Kendra had made him do there, perhaps not, but the tether to his control shattered. With a roar, he punched and clawed at the iron railings, until only shards of metal remained. He ripped the mattress into eight different pieces before turning his attention to the walls, tearing through the fabric, shredding the entire structure.
Without the barrier, bright sunlight glared overhead, spotlighting him. Dust motes performed a wild ballet around him, as if to celebrate the birth of vengeance.
I’ve partnered up with a crazypants.
Uh-oh. She must have said the words aloud. He focused on her, the fog gone from his eyes...eyes a bright electric blue, beautiful beyond compare and so charged and turbulent she could feel the crackle of them all the way to the bone.
“Stay here, and you’ll stay safe,” he said through clenched teeth. “Do not run. I’ll catch you, and I don’t think you’ll like the results.”
Oh, no. What had she gotten herself into? “D-don’t threaten me.”
“Don’t run,” he reiterated.
Shouts sounded, drawing his attention. He marched into the heart of the camp. Elin watched, wide-eyed, heart thumping, as he worked his way through the masses, breaking the neck of anyone foolish enough to step into his path.
Was this really happening?
When he reached Kendra’s tent, he removed the blockade with a single brutal yank.
Yes. This was happening.
The princess had awakened. She stood in front of a full-length mirror, admiring her reflection, unaware her locket was empty. Seeing Thane, she smirked. “Someone enjoys his punishments a little too much, doesn’t he?”
He wrapped a hand around her neck, lifting her, causing her legs to dangle in the air. He squeezed so tightly her eyes bugged out, and her skin quickly turned blue.
She tugged at his wrist—he held firm.
She clawed at his face—he held firm.
“You’re going to die, and you’re going to come back, and then we’re going to have some fun.” There was absolute, utter command in his voice. “Do you hear me? Don’t you dare try to deny me my retribution by staying dead. You do, and I’ll track your spirit into hell and drag you back.”
Blood leaked from her eyes and nose and then...then her head flopped to the side. Her motions ceased, and Thane dropped her.
Elin fought a hot rise of panic. Blood...blood...not much, but enough. Stay calm. Find a happy place. Somewhere. Anywhere but here.
Thane threw his head back and released a war-hungry roar.
Anyone unaware of what was going on suddenly understood. Warriors noticed their fallen comrades on the ground and charged toward Thane. His back was to them. He didn’t know he was about to be tackled.
Elin cried out, distressed. Then Thane squared his shoulders, flared his wings—so long, so glorious, art in motion—and spun, a sword of fire appearing in one hand, a short sword in the other.
The Phoenix moved too quickly to backpedal and avoid impact.
He was calculated, methodical and lethal as he sliced through their ranks. Appendages fell. Bodies followed. Blood splattered and gushed.
Dizziness. Nausea. More heat.
Don’t scream. Please, don’t scream.
She’d witnessed this much devastation before, the day her father and husband were killed by the very men being dismembered. The only reason Elin had been spared was her mother. The beautiful Renlay had agreed to return to camp as a breeder, sleeping with whomever the king desired, so that she would give birth to full-blooded warriors for the rest of her miserable life.
Elin had been her insurance policy.
Renlay had become pregnant right away. But then, four months ago, both she and the child died. Neither regenerated.
The agony of Elin’s loss was still so terribly fresh. A wound that had yet to heal.
A wound that might not ever heal.
Finally, a reckoning had come. She should enjoy it.
Tears tracked down her cheeks, a scorching deluge.
An arm went flying through the air—without a body attached. A foot soon joined it. What little calm she’d managed to retain left her in a puff of smoke, and she hunched over to vomit.