"Vengeance is a monster of appetite, forever bloodthirsty and never filled." - Richelle E. Goodrich
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A dangerous glimmer flickers within Valen's eyes.
Death?
The sky fills with dark, thunderous clouds, the quiet night turning tumultuous. Wind begins to rush past their bodies, the warm air failing to ease Valen's glacial glare. He flexes his clawed fingers as he processes the male's words.
After all of these years, this... this is how they meet? This is how Valen finds himself face-to-face with one of them? The beings who ignored every one of his calls? The beings who left him in that cell to rot in isolated darkness? The beings who watched him suffer until his mind was in pieces?
"Most kneel under a taste of my power," Death slowly observes. "But you," his eyes narrow, "you are different."
Valen turns his head, eyes finding the God who he wished would have taken his soul years ago.
Taken aback, Death goes still. For a moment, he looks stunned, but then his expression morphs into one of insult and rage. "Your eyes," he seethes. "Who gave you your eyes?"
The air around them turns volatile, wind violent as it chips away at the surrounding trees. Thunder claps from above, clouds bursting to release a heavy onslaught of rain. A bolt of lightning strikes the ground nearby, the sound powerful and booming. Soil crumbles, trees scorched by the powerful heat the bolt brings.
Valen tilts his head, eyes stinging so powerfully they feel like they're on fire. "You harm my mate, and now you choose to speak on my eyes?" His nostrils flare, anger building. "Tell me, is the white not to your liking?"
As the rain soaks his half-clothed body, Death's voice turns unnatural and the sound echoes through Valen's mind. "I said," deep cracks begin to form in the ground, spreading through the forest like lines of electricity. Death's power surges through Valen and it shoves him onto his knees. His breath is knocked out of him, muscles straining under the force bearing down on his body. His teeth are clenched so tight they might shatter underneath his resistance — his resistance to submission. A growl builds inside of him, insulted by Death's invasiveness. How dare he?
"Who," the cracks in the ground split open, causing red rays of scalding light to burst through and illuminate the dark forest. Against Death's golden skin, the light creates a blazing appearance that makes Valen's growl falter. Bone-chilling screams blast through the open cracks, filling the forest with sounds of unfiltered horror. It pierces through the air, and Valen can't help but flinch as it deafens his other senses. The pungent odour of burning flesh and blood fills the forest, causing plants to shrivel and turn to dust just at the scent of it.
"Gave you," large, imposing wings burst out from between Death's shoulder blades, black feathers reflecting the red rays of suffering souls. Trees break as the wings snap wide open, wood crashing to the forest floor. Valen's fingers dig into wet soil as he tries to keep himself from lowering any further. But Death's presence is crushing, a burning onslaught of rage and fury. A despicable feeling runs through his veins — the feeling of death approaching.
"Those," the God of Death raises a hand to the bandage covering his eyes, two fingers hooking over the upper edge. From afar, a stampede of shadows invades the forest, pummelling through trees and absorbing all sound. Valen can see it approach Death from behind just as the moon disappears, light from above occluded as even the sky fills with shadow. He can feel its power, the energy that flows within, and Valen can't take his eyes off of it.
"Eyes," Death begins to lower the bandage, but the shadows burst through the trees behind him and devour the God completely, its speed causing air to blow past Valen. Light from the cracks is extinguished like a blown-out candle, and then all he sees is darkness.
Within the blink of an eye, the shadows disappear, taking the God of Death along with them.
Rain continues to pour, drenching Valen's body as he looks up at the moonlit sky. Strands of his black hair stick to his forehead, the sting in his eyes unwavering. The weather remains unchanged, thunder reaching his ears once again.
The forest now looks untouched, broken trees whole and the deep cracks in the ground sealed. Valen's eyes try to find the God, but he's nowhere to be seen.
No.
Valen pushes himself to a stand, mud sticking to his hands and knees. His muscles ache, the strain of his resistance almost making him collapse.
No, you don't get to leave.
Another lightning bolt strikes the ground, the sound making Alia stir from her place behind him. Valen turns to her, noting how the scent of her blood has grown stronger.
His hands ball into fists.
First, he'll heal her wounds, and then he'll hunt for Death.
Velora: Land of the Gods
Slamming into the ground, Death's back and wings shatter the marble floor, a crater forming underneath him. A hand is wrapped around his throat, shoving him further and further into the ground as shadows wisp around his soaked body.
Above him is the God of Darkness, powerful black wings spread out behind him. With olive skin, piercing dark blue eyes, and wavy black hair that reaches his shoulders, the God is a sight to behold. Shadows reside within his wings, warping and shifting underneath rays of the golden sun. Like Death, his torso and feet are bare, black trousers covering his legs.
Straps of shadow wrap around Death's limbs, restraining and immobilising him to the ground. He snarls, body surging with the need to kill. "Release me, Nyxus!"
In the Throne Room of the Palace of the Gods, the two males are surrounded by arching walls decorated in marble and gold. Behind them lies a golden throne, empty yet full of regal power. It's raised on a semi-circular platform with an ascent of almost a hundred steps. The walls contain many floor-to-ceiling windows where warm sunlight beams inside, the ceiling roughly twenty metres high.
"Calm yourself, or you will remain bound." Nyxus releases Death's throat before moving off of him. His wings drag against the floor, brushing against marble fragments as he turns to face the throne. "You know the Land of Mortals is forbidden, yet you insist on disobeying orders."
Death's breaths are quick, full of adrenaline and anger. He pulls against the shadows, finding no release. Again and again, he resists, his strength wearing down Nyxus' hold.
Nyxus looks at the bound God. "Tell me, Sephtis. Do you know the punishment for harming a mortal?"
Sephtis' resistance falters, demeanour shifting into something dark. "How dare you question my knowledge of his rulings."
"You claim to be versed, yet you tried to kill one of his creation."
"It was warranted."
"It is never warranted."
Taking deep breaths, Sephtis drops his head back onto the marble floor. For a while, he doesn't say anything, and it has Nyxus' eyes narrowing.
"Is that all you wish to say?"
"Quiet, Nyxus," Sephtis warns. "I find I am becoming less kind with every word you speak."
An unamused scoff comes from the God of Darkness. "You may dislike the truth of my words, but it does not deter the fact that you continue to put yourself in harm's way. If you had laid a hand on that mortal, there is nothing in our world or theirs that could stop him from punishing you."
Sephtis takes a slow, deep breath. He shakes his head, throat cool from the shadows wrapped around his skin. "He had his eyes, Nyxus."
Nyxus' expression falters. "What?"
"That mortal," Sephtis says. "He looked at me with golden eyes, and all I wanted to do was gouge them out for resembling his likeness."
For a while, Nyxus considers Sephtis' words. "Are you certain they were golden?"
Sephtis scoffs. "My eyes may be bandaged, but I am not blind."
"I am aware of your... abilities, I assure you. I only ask because I know of your reasons for entering the Land of Mortals, and I worry if this is something you may have wished you'd seen."
Sephtis' head raises with an affronted expression. "Excuse me?"
Nyxus sighs, sympathetic towards the bound God. "I don't mean to upset you, truly, but it has been a thousand years —"
"It would be wise to stop talking," Sephtis hisses, the tone of his voice turning dire. "I do not wish to hear another word on this matter."
Shaking his head, Nyxus briefly closes his eyes and runs a hand through his hair. "Look. I understand his absence has been —"
From between Sephtis' shoulder blades to the tips of his wings, the black feathers alight into scorching flames. "I said enough!" he roars. Windows shatter, walls crumpling underneath the force of his power. His flames extinguish Nyxus' shadows, illuminating the room in a glow of hellfire.
Nyxus jolts back and hisses as his forearms become covered in ugly burns, the damage to his shadows reflecting on his skin. He takes a few steps back, wings raised and ready to cover his eyes if needed. His focus doesn't move from Sephtis' bandages, a twinge of fear flickering through him.
Now on his feet and completely enraged, Sephtis yells, "you do not get to speak of him!"
A stifling heat fills the room, causing sweat to build on Nyxus' skin.
"Not when I'm the only one who searches for him!" Angry tears glide down Sephtis' cheeks, quickly evaporated by his flaming wings. "For eight hundred years, I have entered the Land of Mortals to find him, and not once have any of you intervened!" His body shakes with each breath, bandages still in place. "If he were here, I would have been thrown into the underworld to suffer for centuries, but you only step in when I try to kill a mortal who stole from him!"
"Sephtis, please! You misunderstand —"
"I understand just fine!" Sephtis turns to the open archway entrance of the Throne Room. His shoulders shake as he tries to contain his distress. His last words are a promise, voice thick with fury. "If you follow me, Nyxus, I will burn your soul."
Dytikos
After running back inside their temporary home, Valen carries a still-unconscious Alia to his bed. Blood seeps through her t-shirt onto his arms, causing his nostrils to flare as he shakes with anger. It's something he never wants to smell again.
Lowering her onto his bed, Valen tries to gently lay her on her stomach but she makes a sound of protest. A grimace covers her face, consciousness slowly returning.
Cursing under his breath, Valen takes her back into his arms and holds her against him. He decides to sit on the edge of the bed instead, watching as his mate's head rests against his shoulder.
The weather remains rampant outside, the sound of rain hitting the windows and walls barely able to drown out the sound of the thunder above. There hasn't been another strike of lightning since Valen took Alia inside, but he can still remember the heat and electricity it brought when it slammed into the ground.
Turning his attention to Alia's shoes, Valen uses one hand to untie her black trainers before slipping them off and tossing them towards the door. He stretches out her legs, keeping his other arm around her back so he can use the now-freed arm to assess her face. Strands of brown hair stick to her forehead and neck, curling against her skin. Both of their clothes are completely drenched from the rain, water droplets remaining on some of Alia's long eyelashes. He can smell the rain on her, but it doesn't manage to mask the scent of her blood.
Valen scowls. He should have gotten there sooner. If he can barely manage to protect his mate, then how can he protect any of the other wolves in Rosía?
He closes his eyes, a slow exhale leaving him. Never again will her blood be shed, and never again will he allow a God to lay a hand on her skin.
Raising his wrist to his mouth, Valen elongates his canines and pierces the skin. Blood seeps out of the circular wounds, and he swiftly brings it to her mouth. A small sound escapes her, and then her eyes flutter open, lips against his skin. Dazed, she raises her hands and grabs onto his arm, tongue brushing against the quickly healing wound as she laps up his blood.
Valen shivers, eyes glued to her half-lidded ones.
As more of her consciousness returns, she pulls her mouth away to find the wound healed without a scar in sight. Other scars cover the rest of his skin, and she frowns when she scans each one of them. Then she sucks in a breath through clenched teeth when one of the bones in her chest snaps back into place. Valen's hand reaches for her and she grabs his fingers with her hands and brings it all towards the centre of her chest. Her face contorts into one of pain, eyes squeezed shut as she curls in on herself. Her legs move as she bends her knees to lean forward, and Valen uses this opportunity to use the arm that was around her back to assess her bleeding wounds.
Gently lifting the hem of her t-shirt, Valen peels it off her skin and raises it to her shoulders. His fingertips trace her spine, and he releases a thankful breath when he notes that her wounds have healed and only the blood remains.
Movement in his peripherals makes his attention snap towards the open doorway. Slithering into the lit bedroom, a small trail of shadows tries to hide against the edge where the wall meets the floor. But Valen catches them, and his eyes sting once again. Veins raise underneath his murderous glare as his canines are bared in a silent snarl. He releases his dagger-like aura onto the shadows, and they quickly poof out of existence.
His chest shakes with a restrained growl, causing Alia to raise her head and look at him in concern.
For this, he'll kill them all.
Velora
Nyxus jolts back, eyes wide. He stands in the Throne Room as his shadows clear debris and repair the damage caused by his argument with Sephtis. His skin turns pale, the sight provided by his shadows in the Land of Mortals confirming the other God's words.
Shit.
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Why was this one of the hardest chapters I've had to write?????!!!!!!!
I have very very important exams next month so there may be a delay in getting out chapters during that time, but I should be able to get one or two out before then!!
How do you all feel about Death and Darkness???