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“Sovereign.” Derikles’ voice held the barest trace of unease as he came to stand several feet away. “Shall I take us to your home?”
In his current state, Isaiah wouldn’t have the control needed to teleport any distance. His wounds, and the impending recoil, would wreak havoc on any ability he would attempt to use, including the vision he still maintained. Fortunately, it was holding for the moment.
The only time he’d been given a reprieve from the recoil was when he’d first became the sovereign of the Sylth after defeating Hector. Nature’s foresight allowed for a newly minted sovereign to bypass the painful condition, for the benefit of meeting and establishing bonds with their new clan.
Isaiah nodded in response to Derikles’ offer, the flesh around the axe pinching painfully as he moved. “That’d be appreciated, Derikles.”
It’d been ages since someone else teleported him. It felt like an alien sensation. The world blurred, then righted into the form of his living room. His lieutenants, all of them wearing their anxiety on their faces, quickly surrounded him.
Rukia, hovering near the back, said nothing, but her wide, unblinking eyes were transfixed upon him. The potent scent of her fear hurt worse than the wounds on his body. It was present in every breath she took, every shiver she tried to hide, and he couldn’t help but address her first.
“What happens next, Rukia—it’s temporary,” he said, confidence infusing every word. “It won’t be forever. It’s just the price I pay for what I’ve done.”
She remained mute. Something in her features perplexed him, as if she was holding back the truth of her reaction—but what, he didn’t know. Despair, perhaps, or fear. He hated both.
“Stay, Rukia. Don’t let them run you off.” He offered her a grin, trying to quell the rising intensity in her features. “If Derikles pulls the macho act, you have my full permission to drown him.”
Rukia didn’t laugh. Nor did Derikles.
Jaeda was the only one who seemed blithely peaceful, picking off a piece of lint on her shirt as she casually strolled up to him. “Drop the vision, Isaiah.”
He complied, the building pressure on his mind releasing instantly as the vision dissipated. Jaeda clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth while she took stock of the damage to his chest.
“Maybe try not to get chopped in two next time, sovereign.”
Rolling his eyes at the jeer but smirking nonetheless, he addressed Derikles next. “I want perimeter patrols running constantly. The last time this happened, the clanless came for us while I was in recoil. We don’t need any rabid dogs sniffing around.”
Xedrix approached him, smugly eyeing the axe that was still lodged in his shoulder. In one fell swoop, the brute of a Raeth jerked the sizable blade free from Isaiah’s flesh, a copious amount of blood spurting from the wound.
Jaeda cursed even as Isaiah’s feet shuffled to keep standing. Smirking, he merely said, “Thanks for the warning, Xe.”
Xedrix threw him a lopsided grin, pleased with his new treasure. “I’m gonna keep this as a trophy, sov. Unless you were planning on it?”
“Be my guest.” Looking back to Derikles, Isaiah continued. “With Zanza in Europe, the network stretches to accommodate her travels, but be aware that when she’s in Munich, you’ll need to supplement. Something about that location messes with telepathy and will always pull on my reserves.”
“Of course.”
Derikles cast an anxious glance at Jaeda while she worked. His second knew that Isaiah was merely a ticking time bomb at this point, the other man’s worry compounding with every passing second.
“Can you move your arm, sovereign?” Jaeda questioned, her hands already pouring healing energy into his gaping wound where crimson continued to seep from his body.
“No.”
A splitting streak of pain made him visibly wince. Vibrations knocked against his skull, and his temples started to pound.
Derikles snarled. “Who is trying to telepath you?”
“Shoshanna,” Isaiah explained, readily forgiving her, as his fingers came to rest gingerly on his throbbing temple. “Whenever I’m challenged and she loses the direct connection, she becomes agitated. Please check on her after—”
As he tried to give Derikles the last piece of information, razor blades sliced up his spine and into his brain, a searing agony that splintered his thoughts and threatened to tear him in two. Blistering pain flooded his mind, his head jerking backward, while his mouth fell open in a soundless scream. The sheer magnitude of the recoil took him by surprise, unable to stop the backlash of the malicious power that beat against him with unrelenting ferocity.
He felt Derikles grab his failing body. Together with Jaeda, they kept him from collapsing under the visceral torment of the recoil, the muscles in his body revolting under the duress.
That was when his mind went blank.
Chapter Seventeen
RukiagaspedasIsaiahcollapsed under a visible onslaught of agony. Derikles and the others had been hovering close by, as if they’d known it was coming.
