She closed her eyes, praying she would wake up from this nightmare. This was the prophecy fulfilled. They had come for her, to claim her and use her. This was her fate.
She hung her head and stopped fighting him.
A moment after her hope had shriveled, a savage cry roared in her ears. An angry bellow from behind.
She knew that scream—that voice.
Krysta.
CHAPTERFIFTY-FOUR
“You.” The sound that came from Helaina was that of a mouse. Callum barely heard it over the rageful humming in his ears.
They both knew this intruder.
“Dolion.” Callum spat out the name like it was a putrid taste on his tongue. Dolion’s royal-blue leathers looked clean and high priced. He was the same snide pretty boy that they had sent packing from this place decades ago. That gave Callum an awful feeling.
Decades.
He shouldn’t be a pretty boy any longer. He should be old, well into his seventies by now.
But there he stood, as young as the day he left.
“Did you miss me, love?” A crooked smile snaked its way across Dolion’s lips. “I’ve missed you.”
Helaina’s already pale skin had gone ghost white. She looked like she might keel over. Was she even breathing?
Callum’s deranged side was fighting to come out. He had been denied death on their recent patrols. Perhaps Dolion’s arrival could soothe that ache. “You knew what the cost would be if you showed your face here again.”
Helaina’s head darted back and forth between them. “He’s... he’s one ofyou?”
“Fuck no,” Callum spat again, eyes drifting down to the lifeless deer at Dolion’s feet.
Dolion looked bored, picking between his teeth with his smallest finger. “Always so hostile, Callum. So predictable. You, however”—he pointed to Helaina—“you continue to be full of surprises.”
The teleporter was tempted to use his power to get to Dolion, to slit his spineless throat right then and there. He thought better of it as he surveyed his opponent, the bloodless animals before him. Something was very wrong, and leaving Helaina’s side for even a heartbeat was a gamble he couldn’t take.
“Tell me how you know him.” Helaina’s voice shook, but there was a hint of suspicion there.
Callum answered, not looking away from Dolion. “He came here once, seeking his trial. He proved to be nothing more than a self-absorbed twit. He never cared about protecting anyone, he only wanted power. So we sent him back.”
Dolion’s lip twitched slightly. “I did what he told me to do. I trained until my hands bled, and when it was finally my time—my turn—he denied me my rite. Your captain denied me my very purpose.”
Callum’s eyes narrowed. “You should be an old man by now.”
Dolion smirked. “How observant of you.”
“What have you done, Dolion?” Callum gripped his daggers tighter.
“I got the power I deserved.” Dolion rolled his neck, and his blue eyes became a glowing bloodred. Daggerlike canines grew past his lips, capable of shredding tendons and muscle.
“You’re a fucking undead,” Callum proclaimed, still not believing the transformation before him.
“Some call it a curse.” Dolion’s tongue danced at the tips of his canines.
“Of course it’s a curse! Your soul will be in pieces, traveling the hell realms for eternity.”
“You’d have to kill me first.” Dolion’s eyes glinted with challenge, begging Callum to try. “So much time wasted here, watching all of you follow Theodon around like helpless pups.”
