Page 34 of Incarnate

Many are on me, and I’m subdued easily. Strong, cold hands dig into my skin as I’m dragged near the Void, my body thrashing as hard as I can. I can feel a surge of rage in my chest, and a few near me are burned. The Revenant comes close, then looks at me, then at the burned hands of a follower. “The Dominus is nearing, I believe. It’s the bind working through her.”

“How right they are.”

My skin raises in goosebumps at the guttural growl in the edge of his words, so unlike the softer side that’s been reaching me.

The ground shakes.

A vibration starts in the walls and moves inward, as if something massive just landed above us. The torches flicker, and several go out. The Godless shift, murmuring, looking up.

Then the walls start to peel in the shadows, ravens flying out of them, and they start picking at the Godless. Their attempts to protect themselves with magic are worthless, many of the ravens heralding the Godless until they walk toward the void in an attempt to stop the violent pecking, those holding a magical seal around it completely failing.

“Don’t fall in!” the Revenant cries out.

It’s a shallow pool, but blood erupts from the eyes of those who step in, their nose, their mouth, their ears—everywhere at once, as if every vessel in their body ruptured simultaneously. Their skin begins to tighten against their bones. The body shrinks, desiccates, and collapses into the void water, and the surface is immediately still.

Screaming erupts. The Godless scatter, going for the door I came through, but the seal remains firmly bound. The Revenant crosses the broken circle to get to me, grabbing me by the neck. “Get her into the Void! It may break the Dominus.”

Sorcerer’s chant low, the ravens struggling to pierce them. But when another grabs me, their hands burn even quicker. More shadow ravens burst from the darkness in a storm of black wings and terrible sound, dozens of them, made of shadow and fury. They circle me, their wings beating against my face and arms, driving me backward, away from the Godless and the Void. Even the Revenant releases me after his forearm is mangled from talons and beaks.

Something in me stills instantly, as if aware that I am utterly safe. I’m consumed with his presence, his fury, his terror, flooding every cell of my body.

Through a flurry of raven wings, I can barely see the doors open, as if the seal is re-established, as Kallúm enters. The shadows bending toward him as if he's generating his own gravity. The darkness of his eyes aren’t just filled with rage, but also fear.

Then his gaze land on me. Other demons enter the space, and there’s an eruption of sorcery, magic, and things exploding. Shadows encompass me even more, shrouded in a dense blackness. I hold my hands up as if one of them might hit me, but nothing ever does. Then the paleness of his face contrasts it all, his eyes alluring and terrifying all at once as he stands before me.

We just remain that way, staring at each other as chaos seems to avoid us. No one will ever be able to convince me there isn’t a connection with this demon, not in the way his presence carries a magnificent pull toward him without that ring on.

A gloved hand reaches out through the dark, palm up, as if telling me to take it. An overwhelming weight keeps my body still, deeply aware that this demon king is important to me. Meant for me. And yet, I’m also aware that if I take that hand, the likelihood of me leaving of my own free will is next to nothing.

He will have to release me.

And by every damn god that exists, all I want to do is take that hand…

“You’re safe with me, Nara,” he croons, my knees weakening at the way his voice moves through me.

There’s something almost wrong about us. Like two souls that shouldn’t be doing what we’re doing. I can sense his selfishness, his greed, and it just makes me ravenous for him in ways I don’t understand, and yet as panic wants to wash over me, I know he will calm it all.

I want to be greedy, too.

My hand rises to his, touching the warm leather, my heart pounding at finally connecting with him. His fingers curl around mine, and his grip is not gentle. He pulls me toward him, not speaking.

Kallúm's arms tighten around me.

A sense of tunnel vision overcomes me, and the only thing I’m aware of next is my head slumping forward onto his chest before I lose consciousness.

P E N E L O P E

I wake to the smell of him.

It’s not a dream, either. It’s him, like embers that never fully cooled, mixed with a deep, masculine scent that’s almost sweetened with vanilla. It saturates the sheets, the pillows, the air itself, and my body responds before my mind does. My muscles unclench. My breathing deepens. Something in my chest settles into a rhythm it's been searching for since I arrived in this world.

Then the pain catches up.

It’s not sharp, but my hip hurts for some reason, and my arms are bruised in the shapes of fingers, my knees scraped raw. I completely forget what happened until I recall the Godless dragging me.

Something warm and damp presses against the back of my shoulder as I’m lying on my side, and I flinch.

"Easy."