Rise of the Phoenix (Return To Avalore #2) (2 page)

Like hell, he would let her go back there. Intending to pluck her from the ground and carry her away, he swept lower until he noticed the thermal hues of three large Erritrols not twenty feet from where she had been heading. His mouth dried of all moisture and his heart stuttered. Had she continued on the path she had been on, she would never have survived the attack.

At least thirty Erritrols fought, but rather than run away, she was rushing straight into battle. The phoenix fought hard, pushing Evan faster. He didn’t need the prodding. There was no way he was going to stand by and watch her get her foolish ass killed.

Sweeping low, he landed behind a group of Erritrols circling to get into position to intercept her. He fired off three energy blasts in rapid succession, killing two on the spot, and disorienting the other. The ground shook as the creatures roared and the battle raged all around him. Dark energies slammed into everything in sight, destroying the makeshift camp.

Brienne ran, shooting energy into the mass of fighting Erritrols, hitting her marks with controlled accuracy. One of the beasts ran toward her with huge, stomping strides, but Evan got to it first. Casting a massive ball of charged power into the creature, Evan prepared for retaliation.

It stumbled once and kept running for her. Before Evan could strike again, a darker blast shot past him, narrowly missing him, followed by another in quick succession. The Erritrol chasing Brienne howled long and loud, before incinerating into a pile of smouldering ash. When he glanced back, the same beast who had told him to run a short while ago now fought three more of its kind, blasting them fast and hard, but as strong as it was, he would never last against so many. Evan sent a crackling ball of energy into one of the larger circling beasts. He was no friend of the Erritrols, even the one he found himself helping, but the animal had saved his life. The creature he hit stumbled to its knees with an anguished roar.

All around them, lesser Erritrols scrambled to take tents and structures apart, hastily disassembling them while the battle raged around them. Putting on a burst of speed, Evan raced toward Brienne, intent on taking her from the encampment. Before he could reach her, another huge Erritrol came around one of the only remaining tents left standing. Evan’s heart pounded as it reached its meaty paw for her, but rather than blast her into oblivion, it hauled her into its massive arms and took off running for the treeline. Quick on its feet, it dodged smaller Erritrols as it ran.

Its long strides ate the distance. A few more seconds and they would have been clear, but then black energy sizzled in the air, making the fine hairs at the back of Evan’s neck stand on end. A large ball streaked through the air toward the retreating beast. Power crackled in Evan’s hands. He didn’t hesitate. He sent it careening forward, intercepting the attack before it could reach his mate. He could only hope the creature who now had his woman in its grasp would keep her safe.

Too late, Evan heard the sizzle of power behind him. Pain shot through him, spreading like fire through every muscle. His legs buckled beneath him, taking him to his knees.
Fuck.
Sweat beaded on his forehead as he fought the effect of the hit. Every nerve ending shrieked in agony. He couldn’t get enough of the foul air into his burning lungs.

The beast carrying Brienne didn’t slow or stop. She struggled against its grasp, but not against the Erritrol itself. Her head popped over its massive shoulder, scanning the rubble and fighting beasts until they both disappeared into the thick brush.

His blood flowed like molten lava in his veins. Maybe if he kept the animals busy long enough, they would forget about going after her. Taking as much of the dark energy into him as he dared, he imbedded it with his own to blast the beasts nearest him. One by one they fell. The sounds of the battle grew louder as he made his way to the edge of the camp.

“You think to get away?” The gravelly voice sounded near him, too near.

No more than ten feet away stood the largest beast he had ever seen. It had to be at least seven and a half feet tall, with wide shoulders, bulging with muscle. Evan swallowed hard. The pale rings of fur around its neck, wrists and ankles worried him more than any amount of brute strength the animal might have. But more than that, its short, bristly mane stood on end, denoting its age.

Evan’s heart pounded as he stared at the beast. If he took to the air, it could blast him right out of the sky before he got high enough to be out of range. He was fast, but this was a fucking Ekasibe. The ancient Erritrol held more power than all the others combined. It clenched and released its fists, energy sizzling around its hands. Its claws, three inches long with pointed tips, were capable of piercing right through him.
Fuck.

The beast snarled as it looked upon the destruction of the village. “You did this?” It turned its massive head toward the other Erritrols. “One puny little Avalorian did all this damage?”

It was then that Evan noticed the fighting had stopped and every surviving Erritrol watched the exchange.

The blast of energy came at him so fast he didn’t have time to brace himself for impact. He fell to the ground, desperate to bring air back into his lungs.

Inside, the fiery bird screeched. The entire world turned to different hues of orange and red. Fire raced up and down his arms, licking at his skin, but not singeing even one hair. Raising himself on his knees, he threw his energy at the beast, making it stumble back. The attack came at him from all sides. In his weakened state, every hit sapped more of his strength.

“Do not kill him.” The Ekasibe stepped closer, sneering down its snout at him before it reared its leg back and kicked him—hard. The bone-crushing blow landed across his ribs, sending him flying ten feet into the air to land on a pile of rubble.

His left leg twisted beneath him at an awkward angle. When he tried to move, pain shot through him. It was all he could do not to cry out, but he refused to give it the satisfaction.

The Ekasibe sneered before he spit down at him. “He’ll take us to his queen.”

“Fuck you.” He tried to gather enough energy to blast the beast, but he was too far gone. Black energy whined as it flew straight to his head. He could only hope Brienne had made it out of the area and was safe wherever the Erritrol had taken her.

No matter how hard she tried, Brienne could not budge Wesken’s arms from around her. “Put me down. I have to go back.” She swallowed the bile rising in her throat. “What happened back there? Where’s Argram?”

Dense foliage whipped past in a deep green blur as the Erritrol ran. Brienne’s body bounced, jarring her spine with every pounding step he took. Wesken plowed through the brush, not slowing in the thick vegetation. If any branches scraped or cut him, she couldn’t tell. His silence, more than anything, worried her. It wasn’t that he was usually a great conversationalist, but ignoring her was not the norm either.

She had been so close. A few more minutes in the camp, and she would have had the scymin in her hands. It was there, it had to be. For a moment, as they’d fled the camp, her dragon had fought, wanting to break free, to go back into the thick of battle. It was as though she had left something, or more aptly someone, behind and the dragon was furious. But that couldn’t be. Evan was back in Avalore, guarding his sister. He would not leave her side, not now that she had finally returned. She was and always would be his first priority. Besides, she had scanned the area before going in; no other Avalorian had been present.

As hard as she punched at his arm, Wesken didn’t flinch. “Talk to me. Where’s your brother?”

“Argram is dead. The others will meet us at base.” His gruff voice was thicker than usual.

“No. No, you can’t be right.” Her sob muffled against his fur. “We have to go back. Turn around. We have to go get him.” Heart hammering in her chest, she struggled to keep the tears at bay.

“I saw him fall.” The deep rumbling of his rage vibrated in his chest. “There’s nothing left to go back for.”

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, ceasing her struggle. Her throat hurt with the sorrow she tried to hold back.

Wesken’s entire body shook beneath her. His growls threatened to erupt, but still he plowed on. Even though they had made their escape without a single beast following, he didn’t stop or slow down, nor did he speak again.

Kendra, his mate, ran toward them, her smile faltering when she saw their grave expressions. Wesken’s big hands shook as he set Brienne on the ground, his chest heaving after the strain of the miles-long run. Still, he didn’t speak with her, didn’t look at her. He turned to his mate, shoulders slumped, and then howled long and hard. The mournful song filled the silence, calling other females from their tents.

Brienne couldn’t understand the low grunts and growls of the pack, but she knew sorrow when she heard it. Silent tears flowed down her cheeks as she turned away, affording them the privacy they deserved. Fear shone in the females’ eyes as they sought mates who had not yet returned. They needed reassurance, but they would have to wait. She couldn’t stop. Otherwise, she would never get her feet moving again. Their mates would provide all the comfort they needed.

She marched on, sorrow crushing her, knowing the pain she was about to inflict. Wishing things were different wouldn’t change anything, and certainly wouldn’t change what she had to do. Her chest tightened, making it hard to breathe. It never got easier, but she refused to pass the responsibility on to anyone else. She had taken the men on this mission. The fact that Argram would not return fell on her shoulders.

Some days she had to wonder if it was worth it. The cost to the pack was so high. Had it not been for Argram, she never would have survived her first night in the Dark Lands. He had found her, injured and afraid, and had protected her when all of his instincts told him otherwise. She owed him her life, yet now he had lost his own.

She was steps away from Argram’s tent when his mate, Miga, belly heavy with the cub she was carrying, came out. Her eyes grew wide, and she shook her head from side to side. There was only one reason Brienne visited a warrior’s tent after a mission, and today was no exception.

Miga’s loud, roaring wail echoed through the camp, sending small creatures scurrying into the forest. The thundering cry died into a pain-filled silence only to start up again as the pack gathered around. As each warrior returned, another mournful cry ripped through the pack.

Searing heat churned inside her as her dragon spit and snarled. Throwing her head back, she roared right along with them until her throat was raw.

Once the pack dissipated, she addressed the mourning widow. Little she could say or do would ease the female’s pain, but she had to try. “Argram was a good, honorable man. He loved you very much. If there’s anything I can do…”

The Erritrol female looked at her as though only now noticing she was still there, her black eyes luminous with tears. “The only thing you can do for me is get the bastards who killed him.” Face contorting, she growled again before turning on her heels and disappearing into her tent.

Head hanging low, Brienne headed to the center of the camp where the warriors would be waiting for her. They stood tall, arms crossed over their chests, low growls rumbling deep in many of their chests.

“What the hell happened back there?” She held Wesken’s gaze for a moment before turning to each of the other men. Nine of them, not including her, were involved in the mission. They had examined each possible scenario, planned for every contingency. Someone had to know what had gone wrong.

None of them spoke up. Their gazes shifted from hers to the ground. A couple of the hulking beasts shuffled their feet. Something was up. “What? No one saw anything?” Pacing around the circle of warriors, she stopped in front of Wesken. “Things were going well until I went into the tent to look for the scymin. What happened?” Her heart thudded hard. Everything in the camp had been quiet until that point. Then a loud screech sliced through the silence, and all hell had broken loose. She fought against the small tremors trying to erupt from her core. There was no way an Avalorian had been present. She would have sensed them, wouldn’t she?

“Does it matter?” The sharpness of his voice echoed the mood of the entire group.

“You’re damned right it matters.” She glared at him. “I’m not willing to risk your life,” she said, pointing to his chest, “or his.” She pointed to the next man over. “Or anyone else’s by going into a mission blind again.” She looked at each warrior again before continuing. “How were we compromised?” She’d heard wrong, she had to have.

“We weren’t.” A young male spoke up, earning him a snarling growl from Wesken.

“Keht, what did you see?” She zeroed in on him.

The younger Erritrol’s gaze shot to Wesken.

“No, don’t look at him. Look at me. Answer my question. What did you see?” Straightening her spine, she brought his attention back to her.

The young Erritrol shuffled his feet and looked down before answering. “Someone else was there, Brienne.”

“Who? Who was there?” When no one answered, she had to swallow hard. Her heart pounded so loud she thought the others might hear it. Closing her eyes, she turned her head to look at Wesken again. When she opened them, he wouldn’t hold her gaze. “It was
him
, wasn’t it?”

Wesken’s jaw snapped, his long teeth grinding together, but he didn’t answer.