Deserted (Shadow Beast Shifters Book 4)

Reece wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me against his side. ‘You were always my greatest wish and my most destructive defeat,” he murmured, pressing his lips to my cheek. His hand slid down to grip his shirt. “No matter what happens, I need you to know…” My eyes scanned down his torso to where he’d lifted the hem to reveal the words etched on his skin. “The day we fought, I got this inked on me. Our names are entwined with until the sands fade in ancient script.”

Finally. Finally, I knew what he’d felt was so important that he’d permanently marked his skin. I was shattered by the realization that even when he’d hated me, he’d never let me go. “All this time?” I managed to say.

His scoff was low and broken. “Since the day you walked into my life. My anger was strong, but I never doubted our fate.”

The beat of his energy matched the beat of mine, and as our lips met for what I really hoped wasn’t the last time, I felt him inside my soul. We gave ourselves this moment, a mere second, before we pulled away knowing worlds were not going to save themselves.

Our addled “mate brains” had to be shelved for our warrior sides.

‘How do we stop them from rising,’ I asked, once again cataloguing the sands around us. ‘What is beyond those other pillars?’

Reece turned toward the second set fifty yards from us. “I’ve never been this far, but I can only assume that beyond is more wards and the resting place of Death and all that comes with it.”

As I’d expected. ‘How did they force the ancients to rest in the first place?’

Reece’s answer was immediate. ‘I wasn’t here, but the stories speak of a similar method to what Tsuma used to wake them. She was breaking the spells, while the original would have involved etching those ancient words into the stones. It takes sacrifice and power. A lot of power.’

It made sense and explained why Tsuma had had to wait until the world was basically brimming with energy to break through those ancient spells. ‘We have a lot of power and a connection to this world,” I reminded Reece. “More than anyone else. I think if we combine everything and bleed that essence onto another pillar, we might be able to stop them from fully regenerating.”

Reece’s red sands were suddenly visible and whipping around us. “There’s a chance,” he confirmed. “The ancients are still in the process of rising, and so there’s a window of vulnerability.”

A chance was better than nothing.

Reece, appearing to calculate it all, swirled his sands around for a moment, staring down into the Delfora. His gaze returned to the pillars at the valley junction, where black swirled maniacally, blocking our view of everything, including our friends somewhere beyond.

Trapped in the power.

“We need that energy,” he murmured. “Of the dynasties.”

Before I could ask for more details, he was running toward the pillars. I was only a few steps behind. When we reached it, he pressed his hands to the barrier but was blocked from moving past the sands. “Normally we’d be able to get through,” he said distractedly, his gaze running up and down the pillars, “since this spell was designed to block in one direction. But there’s too much power on the other side. I can’t penetrate it, and it won’t ease until the power moon above fades.”

“But you need that sand for the pillar?” I confirmed.

He nodded. “I do, and I think there’s a way to get it if I siphon it off in small increments.”

‘Hurry, then,” I said quickly, feeling the continued destruction of wards below us, along with a sense that that the foundation of our worlds was shifting. My family line was an original power, all of us born to keep the balance. This was how I felt extinction level events, and I knew we were on the precipice of one now.

Reece’s hands burned against the sand barrier and heat burst around us. Within a few moments, the sand turned to black glass, but he didn’t stop there. Strain lined his face as he fought the barrier. I wanted to offer my support and energy, but unless he asked for it, I could not risk throwing him off task.

The heat grew as Reece removed his hand, and to my surprise, the glass followed, hot and pliable as he pulled it from the spelled sands. The rumble below us grew stronger, almost knocking me off my feet, but Reece didn’t shift. He just continued to pull that sand through in slow, agonizing increments. ‘They’re close,’ he huffed, ‘but so am I. Will you share your power with me?’

I nodded as I stumbled closer. ‘Yes, everything I have. This deep in the Delfora, I can’t get more from the meadows, though.”

Reece nodded, his focus still on the glass he was weaving into a pillar, building on what he’d taken from the barrier. “We’ll just have to ensure it’s enough.’

I was willing to drain every part of myself to keep him and my friends alive.

‘Get ready, Lale,’ he said, building faster until the pillar was almost as tall as he was. “I’m about to write the spell, and in doing so, we need to bleed power to secure the binding.”

He closed his hand over the tip of the pillar, which was cylindrical and about ten inches in diameter now. Pressing firmer, his knuckles turned a few shades lighter than his skin as he closed his eyes and murmured spells in the ancient language. On the previously smooth piece, words and scripts began to appear, and with each new line, Reece looked more drained, especially when blood finally oozed from his palm, running fast along the pillar.

By now, the rumbling below us was near deafening, and over my shoulder the sands were falling away as the gods rose.

‘Your turn, Lale,’ Reece shouted, bringing my gaze back to him as he ripped his hand free and a deep ochre blood sprayed us. I didn’t hesitate, slamming my hand onto the same spot his had been, near the peak of the pillar. Spikes I hadn’t noticed embedded into my skin, cutting through with ease, but the pain was easily ignored. The deep red of my blood, changed since my rebirth, spilled with my power. Both mingled with Reece’s, intertwining like old friends. Like true mates.

‘Don’t give too much, Lale,’ he warned, hovering nearby. The vibration of the land caused him to stumble. I was fairly certain that was one of the only times he’d ever been thrown off balance in the sands.

‘This is our chance,’ I reminded him though gritted teeth. ‘One shot. I will give it all and then some.’

His chest was rumbling like the land itself, but he didn’t argue, instead choosing to work with me by placing his hands on the glass just under mine, our essence and energy mingling and sealing this pillar’s strength.

He started to read the words again, over and over, using the strength of both of us to ensure that we succeeded here. His low, deep voice gave me a moment of comfort, even as I weakened and slumped forward. I wanted to speak with him in this foreign, ancient tongue that seemed familiar but truly wasn’t. I didn’t know the language, so I couldn’t do more than bleed power and life into the sands below and pray that we were giving enough.

Pray that the sands stopped shaking and parting.

It was our only hope.