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Ah yes, the deliriously happy drunk stage of the process. Shit, he didn’t want to have to send them through right now. He’d rather wait until she was rational and had her wits and strength back. Fuck knows they were going to need it. Wait, she ate his emotions . . . on top of the soul eating thing? Oh brother, her mother wasn’t human. There were only a few species who could siphon emotions too. At least it would make her stronger, but the possibilities were endless. How was it even possible? Angels could only breed with humans or other angels, and yet standing before him were two beings who were born of OtherRealmly beings, one of which just happened to be an angel. Suddenly the impossible seemed a reality. The ripple effect of which could change the course of existence.
There was no chance he was going to step into the explanation ring with their fathers if he could avoid it. They’d have to figure it out on their own.
“There’s food, med kits, weapons, and other provisions in the packs. Just be careful. Until you get to them, danger lurks in every dark, dank void.”
“And just where are you sending us, Ballzy?” came the odd sounding voice of Jezzie again.
“Nestradia, the Realm of Nightmares often referred to as The Nether of the Unjust, or the Realm of Rot and Ruin.”
Nithe’s growl filled the air, but as he went to speak, Balthazar summoned the portal, and just before he rushed forward and shoved them through, he gave one last instruction.
“Go! Take her to the princes, and the princes will take you to he who is hidden.”
“Who is he?” Nithe queried, falling into the opening with Jezzie in his arms, and the packs on his back.
“That, my fellow spy, is his story to tell.”
Chapter 20
His cock had fucking portal burn from flapping through the void. Being shoved in backwards hadn’t helped either. The only saving grace was his ability to cushion Jezzie’s fall. Which had been purely coincidental since he was already holding her up. The feel of her body pressed against his sent shock waves to the core of him. His cock got even harder as she shifted, rubbing against him as soft little moans drifted from her lips. The dragon in him roared to be released, demanding their mate bond be completed. Just fucking great. He found his mate in the most fucked up of ways and now can’t do anything about it. Jezzie’s wings draped over them, blocking his view of their surroundings, and as much as he wanted to stay in the cocoon of them forever, this place was too dangerous; too deadly. Raum was nothing compared to what awaited them here. As much faith as Balthazar seemed to have in the princes, Nithe wasn’t sure what lay in store for them there was any better than the cluster-fuck they were about to face, out here in the open.
He shifted his hips in order to gently dislodge her. Bad idea. Very bad idea, or rather, great idea, just not now, not here. Fuck, he was so close to spilling his load it wasn’t funny. Before she acquiesced and slid to the ground beside him, she grabbed his shirt and slammed her mouth against his. He shuddered in response, his hands coming up to cup her face as his tongue delved between her delicious lips. His breath froze in his chest as sensation flooded him, his cock pulsed, spurts of cum erupting between them. Yep, he wasn’t close anymore. A single kiss from her lips to his, and he’d spent himself like an untried dragonet. Which would be embarrassing if not for the sight of her sliding down his body, and her pretty pink tongue licking the last remnants of semen from his still twitching cock.
Movement from the corner of his eye caused his head to fly up, his eyes widened, and he lunged to his feet, dumping Jezzie unceremoniously on the barren, dust covered ground. He called forth his dragon form, but nothing happened. Try as he might to push out through Nithe’s body, a full shift would not overtake him. Talons emerged from his fingertips, long and sharp. His own wings sprung from his back, the shiny gold, metallic feathers lighting the darkness around them.
Holy hell balls, he’d never seen anything like them. They were nightmares brought to life. Worse than any children’s boogeyman, or monster under the bed. More like a wendigo on steroids, or if one had procreated with the Dullahan of his childhood nightmares. Part horse, part wendigo, fused together, and covered in thick, black, dripping oil. Its open maw showed rows upon rows of sharp, vicious teeth, its needle like claws dragged upon the ground. It lunged forward suddenly, and on autopilot Nithe opened his mouth and his dragon did the rest. He’d never thought it possible to breathe his fire in human form, and yet here he was. Acid green flames filled the space between him and the monster. What remained of the monster's flesh slid down its body to the ground beneath its slippery black hooves, but the skeletal figure still stood, snarling its angry refrain.
Nithe moved instinctively as he grabbed the packs from the ground, putting the straps over one arm, and a disgruntled Jezzie over his shoulder with the other. His knees bent into a deep crouch before he sprung up toward the sky, his wings beating a steady rhythm through the stagnant, gag inducing air.
Pain slashed down his spine in the darkness. A darkness even he couldn’t see through. Neither angel nor dragon sight was able to cut through the thick black gloom which encompassed them. But then, why would it? This was the place where the worst of the OtherRealm beings were sent, where the creatures of nightmares manifested into reality. If they could be seen clearly, what would be the point? Nullifying powers made sense.
He spun in time to drop lower in the air, barely avoiding the razor sharp talons of another monster. The gold of his wings glowed, a lure in the darkness, no doubt. Shit! Not smart. He flew as fast as he could as he breathed his acid fire before them. Downward slightly, of course. It wouldn’t hurt him, he didn’t think it would hurt Jezzie, still it was a chance he wasn’t about to take. On the other hand, it would most definitely incinerate their supplies, and possibly their clothing. Things they may need if they wished to survive in a realm no being had ever returned from. So far, not even the princes sent there in service to the Almighty had been heard from on the outside.
Thoughts raced through Nithe’s head as he tried to formulate a plan. He could see vague landmarks below them. Slight outcroppings of rocks and boulders were dismissed, as they offered little to no defensive protection. Spears flew past him as he dodged and ducked, he spun, and shielded Jezzie with his body.
“Let me go, Nithe. I have wings, silly. I can fly all by myself,” she pouted.
“That’s not quite how it works the first few times, Jez,” he gasped out. Another shaft of pain sliced his side. The odor of putrid pus too close for comfort. Unfortunately, his scales were not protection enough.
Jezzie squirmed, pushing against his scale-armored shoulders. His sweat slicked arms couldn’t contain her, and she slipped from his grip. He watched as she spiraled, her wings not responding as the wind lashed at them, wrapping them around her body. Below her, the ground rushed to meet her, yet what terrified him more was the creature which rose from the dark swamp; its giant, gaping maw open and ready to feast on Jezzie’s flesh. The image of a hippocampus from the fables of old, only twisted, evil, and covered in millenia of whatever fetid vileness filled the swamp and pervaded the soil around it.
Wind burned his face as he dove to catch her. How he longed to shift completely. The scales from the partial shift offered minimal protection, and were mostly for healing wounds and hand-to-hand combat training. Skin grazed skin as he snatched at her leg, the gray material of her pants shredding under his clawed hands. No! Failure was not an option. He wouldn’t lose her, not when he’d just found her. She was the light in the darkness he could feel welling in his mind. So many people had let him down, so many had betrayed him, but he knew in his soul she never would.
He shot past her with a burst of speed, the air forcing its way up his nose as it stung his eyes until they closed and wouldn’t open. With one last Hail Mary he rolled sideways and offered his stomach to the sky, arms out and in, before he rolled right back out again, beating his wings hard. The hot, rather nasty smell of decomposed flesh wafted up, he looked down into the soulless eyes of a being created to do anything to survive, and nothing else.
His golden eyes scanned the gloom as he moved away from the snapping jaws of certain, if not death, then at the very least a particularly excruciating ordeal.
Harsh drums of thunder boomed from every direction as the creatures converged and renewed their attacks. The wasteland below was covered in a writhing mass of hideous beings, and the sky was filling with more by the minute as they were drawn to the scent of blood, the calls of their fellow monsters, and the light from his wings and fire. He needed to find a safe place to set down, prepare his defenses, and create a shield. More so as he felt one wing dip, agony slicing through him. Jezzie giggled in his arms, her hands roaming his chest as she babbled something about handsome men, fine chests, tattoos, and rainbow hair. Pride swelled in his chest and his dragon was chuffed. Their mate was touching them, complimenting them. Though the rainbow hair bore further exploration, and his dragon seemed a little snarly about it. Dragons typically hated sharing their treasure back in the day. Some still held true to those sentiments, but Nithe liked to think he was more progressive than most of his kind.
Up ahead he spotted a large mountain ridge with a decent sized plateau. The closer he got the more he knew this would have to do, his energy was slipping away by the second. A wall of stone closed off the edge of the ridge from whatever lay beyond.
His breath came hard, his chest heaved in and out between clenched teeth, his arms strained, muscles he’d not used in so long burned and threatened to fail him. Still, onward he flew.
The moment his feet hit the ground, his knees buckled, and he fell forward as he tossed Jezzie and the packs out in front of him. His eyes closed of their own accord as the veil of darkness that hindered his view of the land around him fell over his mind as well and pulled him into the unconscious abyss.
As Nithe went down and she went flying, landing hard on the thankfully soft packed, charred dirt—please let it be dirt, please let it be dirt—the fuzzy haze over her brain started to lift. It wasn’t dirt; sludge seeped between her toes and the scent of death became more pronounced. As if the blood of countless beings had been shed here and instead of being washed away or sinking down into the deeper layers of whatever made up this realm, they were kept at the surface to remind those unlucky enough to be sent here exactly what awaited them. Fuck, what was with the morbid, soul-crushing rhetoric her brain kept spouting. Shut the fuck up, brain, you aren’t helping.
“Nithe!” she yelled as she rushed toward him. Her knees scraped along the small, sharp rocks. Small fragments, like tiny knives, embedded themselves in the cuts, but she didn’t care. Not a single muscle moved for what felt like an eternity. Her breath froze in her lungs as her heart skipped a thousand beats. Was he dead? Had she been so fucking far out of it that her messed up brain had led to his death? This man who’d stood before her, so proud, so strong, despite it all. Even in his vulnerability and torment he was perfection. She may not know him, but she felt his soul, and it was precious. Both to her, and to the shadows she housed within her. Another thing she did not yet understand.
