Nox breathed deep the scent of Rayne’s arrival. Peace. A concept forever outside his reach. Her entrance meant more to him than his assessment of their pitifully ill-equipped army. His match nodded to his General before turning her fierce gaze on him. Those bright blue eyes lined by that black band painted on the Progeny. Her black lips reminded him of their kiss in the observatory. He looked forward to smearing them again.

The King of Cinder watched this perfect warrior read Xelan’s diaries until she passed out on the couch in her fallen mentor’s study. No doubt researching Nox’s weaknesses. Her travel time took three hours from Egypt. He never managed less than seven on wings alone. Impressive.

The only thing more impressive than her speed was her ability to fashion her Lyriki armor during her flight. Wrapped, form-fitting, and black. And what a form to fit. Not a glimpse of skin aside from the open back.

And the Icarean Wedding garb. Ribbons the color of his blood—of her eyes—amid all that black leather. The gilded spikes on her knee pads and gloves hardly deterred him as intended. Nor did the gold dipped soles of her combat boots. No. He wanted to watch her use them. In private. Alone. Nox wanted her fighting all alone with him.

Rayne’s flowing black hair was ornate with blue ribbons wound into waterfall braids that shimmered with gold. Winding his fist in that might sting. The girl dressed to solicit his pain, but her deadly disposition affected him the same as it always did. Pure. Carnal. Desire.

When Rayne first arrived, he contained his astonishment at Elden’s Verse. Still on her back, left exposed from her shoulders to her ass. Touchable. But deadly. A foil or dimensional effect confirmed why her nacre failed to heal it. She laced the ink with gold. The tattoo was permanent. And utterly beautiful.

Korac cleared his throat beside Nox. The King turned to glare at his General for derailing his enjoyable train of thought. The man’s icy stare spoke volumes. A very convincing plea to barter truce.

Nox opened his mouth to tell him to “kindly fuck off” when Rayne’s voice stopped him. “Nox, King of Cinder, and Korac, General of the Icarean armies. On behalf of our two worlds, I implore you to surrender now without further altercation. I want to spare your troops this destruction.” She gestured at the legions. “Millions of them wish not to fight.”

He glanced over his shoulder down at the soldiers kneeling to her. Cruel, but necessary, he reminded her of this harsh reality, “You witnessed firsthand that we execute traitors on Cinder. With exception of the decommissioned Valkyrie, of course.” He indicated to Karter watching below. The spectacular Icarean woman returned cold fury in her gaze. Old times and all that. He looked back to Rayne as he insisted, “That was an order, General.”

Korac stared upside Nox’s head, but like a good soldier, rose a fist in the air and opened it wide. Metallic clashing and screams erupted from the throng of millions.

All three girls tightened in distress, watching frantic and helpless.

Tameka shouted into her discrete earpiece, “Save as many as you can!”

Rayne screamed at him, “Nox! Leave this between us. Let your people survive today. I don’t want anymore hurt.”

“If you and the Progeny returned with me to Cinder, no one else would have to suffer. I swear on Elden’s Verse.” With the last, he watched her features intently, “And by Rites, I will have what I want from you, Rayne.”

Taken aback by the mention, she searched his gaze to assuage her suspicions. Yes, he knew her secret. Yes, he would keep it between them. Her concern let him know he made the right decision, and this ended only one way.

When the intimate moment stretched on too long, Sagan interrupted. “General Callahan, we’re out of time.” She did not sound happy as she glared at Korac. Their Shakespearean tragedy unfolded beneath them.

Nox declared, “Rayne. This will be our last dance.”

Amid the surrounding screams of millions of his own soldiers, the love of his life shifted into her devastating Atramentous. “Yes, it will.”

Tameka muttered, “Shields up.”

The light disseminated from Rayne so fast, Nox almost missed her troops positioning shields of nacre glass. The girls disappeared into the white void with visors made from the stuff across their eyes.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Korac shouted in agony beside him. The men below cried out and doubled over in pain. While moisture steamed in Nox’s eyes, he absorbed the magnesium fire around him. The warmth of it satiated a hunger left otherwise neglected. He stared, refusing to blink, into her eyes, blazing with his planet’s cursed star. His perfect match in every way.

Unable to resist any longer, Nox Seamswalked to face Rayne, gripped her by the throat, and pulled her mouth to his. He broke her concentration and consumed all the light while the gold in her hair seared his fingers. Breaking them apart—her breathless, him drunk on her power—he grinned at her smeared lipstick and the blue flames in her eyes. Alive. For the first time in mega-annas, Nox felt alive.

Rayne back-spun and kicked him so hard with her gilded boot that his wings retracted, sending him to the ground. Her hoarse cry from above carried across the valley, “Stop the Tantamount! Save Earth and Cinder!”

Nox’s wings reengaged, and he caught himself from barreling into the front line. The Collective army surged forward like small deposits of sediment into the hungry ocean of his warriors. Although many an Icarus suffered permanent ocular damage from Rayne’s blaze, they still fought better blind than any soldier in her ranks.

It assured his confidence until he noticed a shimmering shift and crackle of energy beyond a spectacular rig. A suspicious clearing expanded behind the semi-truck. Was it as empty as it appeared, or…? Unwilling to waste another second, he rocketed back to the sky.

Rayne, Tameka, and Sagan rushed to meet him halfway. Korac intercepted them. He removed the Seamswalker’s lingerie from his axe and affixed it to his belt. Nox rolled his eyes as the General took his time making a show of it. He twirled and spun the shining weapon with a good toss and a perfect catch. Sagan copied his movements. In their own language, they communicated the terms of their engagement. Her violet eyes filled Atramentous, and she vanished. When she reappeared, Korac blocked her strike from above, and so they waltzed.

Tameka and Rayne contended with Nox. The redheaded Progeny wound a chain dart with wicked gold barbs before proficiently flipping it around her neck without breaking eye contact. The woman knew what she was doing, and she let him know she wanted to do it to him. Those green eyes shone like tempered glass and burned with hatred for her lover’s executioner.

Nox also reserved a special weapon for this occasion. It occurred to him as he stared at Rayne’s skin-tight gear that she lacked one—

“Rayne!”

They all peered down. As if Nox conjured him, Andrew flew up with a curious artifact in hand. He called to her, “From Kyle,” and tossed it to his General. A staff made of nacre glass with an exotic blade detail in the center shaped like a fancy music symbol. The impressive weapon was more than a staff. Nox scrutinized it as he recalled the resourcefulness of her sling. He would never underestimate her again.

With a spiral, Rayne caught it, twirled it over her back, and seized it with her formerly dead hand. She beamed warmly at her Progeny courier, “Thank you.”

A killing machine with a beautiful smile. Nox’s heart pounded, sending his blood rushing through him. As if she sensed the change in him, she glared in his direction and gripped the weapon two-handed. “You’ll appreciate its name.”

Smirking, he asked, “And what is that?”

“Night Killer.” Rayne charged at him almost faster than he perceived. She swung the staff down on him. He unsheathed his nacre battle sword and blocked. They pressed into each other, locked in a cross block.

Exerting a good bit of his strength against her, he ground out, “I’m flattered.”

The tinkering of a chain alerted him to Tameka’s attack from behind. He twisted aside, and Rayne dodged as the barbs darted through their space. Sagan appeared out of nowhere and served a swift kick to his skull before disappearing again. It rattled his heart.

Nox took a moment to appreciate their strategy. A scorching blond, a pissed-off redhead, and a vindictive brunette walk into a bar and tag-team him. Not the tag-team he wanted, mind, but one nonetheless. In similar humor, Korac shrugged apologetically to him from above before reengaging the blond.

The older Icarus popped his neck and rolled his shoulders. He wanted Rayne solo, but they anticipated that. Moving too fast for Tameka’s eyes, Nox gripped her chain hand. She startled as he wrenched it up and behind her head. The barbed end spun and twisted the slack chain around her neck. He pulled tight, letting her feel the threat in the constraint.

Rayne’s wide, terrified gaze implored him to spare her friend. “Tameka!”

Nox ground his words against her ear, “Now listen, warrior. As impressed as I am with your concerted efforts, I—”

A strange scent emanated from the tawny woman. A scent of life and nature. Nox released her with a snarl and a flourishing spin. Wanting her far away from him, he grimaced. Rayne caught Tameka and checked the dissipating strangulation marks. The other woman stared at him. Her admittedly adorable freckles accented those searching green eyes—desperate, like she feared that he knew.

This discovery opened too many avenues for him to exploit. He wanted nothing to do with it. But he knew a few Tritans willing to kill for it—for him. For the unborn son of an Icarean-Tritan-hybrid like his brother.

Nox cursed and discarded the chain dart. As expected, Tameka dashed for it. Separated from her friends, he assaulted Rayne with another strike of his sword. When she guarded as predicted, he thrust a dagger under her ribs.

She snapped up to him with wide, pained eyes as she realized what he must know. She choked on agonizing gasps as he excavated the Rite from under her bones.

The confusion and anxiety in her voice tantalized him, “You were watching.” So lonely and so sad.

Nox held the Rite between them and asked as if they shared an intimate secret, “How much time do you have left, Rayne?”