Azazel tensed, his pulse pounding as Lord Baelon emerged from the swirling debris, that massive frame radiating raw, untamed power. Helpless, he watched Toni as she tried to shield herself, ducking as she raised her hands in front of her clear helmet.
With a violent shake, the upheaval made her stumble and fall.
Frantic, Azazel struggled to free himself, but his efforts amounted to nothing. His body remained a prisoner, dangling, unable to move, much less escape.
His inner beast rolled within him, the menace growing stronger.
Baelon stalked into the room, his once-pristine clear blue form now murky with yawning fissures cracking along his body. Tendrils of steel-blue light discharged from those fractures, like blood oozing down his form. Every thunderous step he took unleashed crackling energy, hurling lightning bolts in all directions. The monster had eyes only for Toni, their red glow blazing in her direction.
“You dare to presume you have bested me?” he roared with raised fists. His voice reverberated with a raw power that shook the chamber.
Mouth wide under her clear helmet, Toni scrambled backward on her hands and feet, the desperation etched on her face.
But she wasn’t fast enough. The crystal giant grabbed her.
She screamed and pounded her ineffectual fists against the beast’s glass-like fingers.
Toni.
Baelon shook her, then brought her close and exhaled a pulse of energy at her.
Her helmet disappeared, then she stiffened and went limp. Her flaccid body drooped in Baelon’s grasp, her dark hair falling in a tangled veil over her face, obscuring the bruises already forming along her pale skin.
The sight of her, unmoving, unprotected, made something deep inside Azazel coil tight. A primal snarl clawed at the edges of his control. He gulped, breathing so hard he became lightheaded. His inner beast became more forceful, as if there was an actual body attached to that part of him, what he believed was his Id—the primitive part of who he was. But this was different. More alive than just a twisted, darker part of his character.
With a casual flick of his wrist, Baelon tossed Toni to the floor like discarded trash.
She landed hard, the sickening thud of impact ignited a violent shudder through Azazel. His fingers curled into fists, his nails digging into his palms as an ancient fury roared to life inside him.
Baelon chuckled, a low, resonant sound that scraped against Azazel’s nerves like a dull blade. “Look at you,Adamou,” he mocked, the labradorite colors that made up his face twisted into cruel amusement. “Caged. Helpless.” He leaned closer with a sneer. “And your precious human is not the only one at my mercy.”
A searing, unnatural force wrenched at the psychic tether Azazel had shared with his brothers since birth—Arakiba, Asmodel, and Abalim—forcing those psychic threads to open. Azazel recoiled, agony lancing through his skull as Baelon gripped the invisible thread and twisted it with his iron will. The chamber blurred, reality itself bending in the Krystalii’s grasp. Azazel strained against his crystalline prison, his breathing ragged.
With a sickening lurch, the space outside his cage folded.
When it unfurled, they were no longer alone.
Ripped from wherever they’d been, Arakiba, Asmodel, and Abalim stood in the Krystalii chamber, their forms flickering in disorientation. When they solidified, shock registered in their eyes as they stared at him, frozen into place like living statues.
Baelon spread his jagged arms in mock magnanimity. “Isn’t this better? It wouldn’t be sporting if we let you meet your destiny alone, now would it?” His grin sharpened. “Aren’t you thrilled that I brought your pitiful family here so you can witness how easily I tear them apart before I do the same to you?”
Azazel’s control frayed, and his vision tunneled. The only thing he focused on was his enemy. Every muscle locked as he strained against the walls of his cage.
The crystal hummed with the power that contained him.
His breath turned into heaving, animalistic bursts, his heartbeat a war drum that pounded heavily against his ribs.
He focused on Toni’s still form, lying motionless.
Tearing his gaze away, he concentrated on his brothers—his loyal and unwavering clan—as they stood unmoving before the monster, a threat greater than any they had ever faced.
Baelon loomed over all of them. A sneering, gleeful smile exposed his sharp teeth and his jagged features crackled with power.
The unbearable, hopeless sight caused something inside Azazel to snap.
It was the primal force, long buried, long restrained, that answered.
Pain lanced through his bones, searing, stretching, reshaping. Torturous breath tore from Azazel’s lungs in a ragged snarl. His flesh twisted, his very essence unraveled into something foreign… primeval and furious.
