Veiled by smoke, p.28
Veiled By Smoke,
p.28
Kimba’s heart twisted. She traced her thumbs along the lines of his jaw, a smile trembling on her lips. “I grieved you, Osiris. I thought I’d lost you forever. When Sepheron made me a dragon, I thought it was a new beginning, a way to forget. And it worked, for a while. The memories faded like a dream. I didn’t remember I’d had a mate at all. Not until Sepheron said it was time, not until he brought you back and the truth flooded in.”
Osiris cupped her hands in his, holding on as if she was the last true thing in his world. “I wish I’d been stronger. I wish I’d found my way back to you sooner. But every day, since the memories have returned, I fall in love with you all over again. The woman you are now—the queen, the dragon, the soul bonded—she humbles me. I’m proud to be the man at your side.”
A tear slipped down Kimba’s cheek, and she let it fall, unashamed. “I’m not the girl you lost. I’m not even the dragon Sepheron made. I’m something new, something forged by Gaia herself, and I wouldn’t trade any of it—not if it meant losing you again. Being with you, working beside the others, fighting for something bigger than myself—I feel myself healing, Osiris. I feel the purpose Mother Gaia put in us. We are exactly where we are meant to be.”
He pulled her close, pressing his forehead to hers. “We are. And I would give anything to have tonight—just tonight—to show you over and over again how much I love you, how fiercely I’ve missed you.” His lips brushed hers, lingering, promising. “But the Devil’s Heart calls. The gate is open, and the others are waiting. As much as I want to lose myself in you, our purpose comes first.”
Kimba smiled, fierce and full of fire. “Together, then. Every battle, every breath. You, me, and all the world hanging in the balance.”
He rose, taking her hand, and together they moved from the warmth of their cave into the cool, tense night—two souls once lost, now found, ready to face whatever darkness waited at the gate, side by side.
EPILOGUE
“There are moments when the world holds its breath—when light and darkness collide–and the bravest hearts must decide whether to break or to burn brighter than ever before.” ~Mother Gaia
Osiris hit the ground running, Kimba at his side, the Devil’s Heart Forest alive with the kind of wild, furious power he hadn’t felt since the dawn of creation. Even the trees seemed to tremble, their branches arching high above the clearing, silver moonlight spilling down like a challenge.
The group was already assembled at the gaping wound in the earth—the newly ripped-open gate to hell, jagged and raw, glowing with a sickly light that made every shadow twist and hiss. The air smelled of scorched stone and ozone and the sharp, metallic tang of magic.
Beaumont, king of earth, stood at the fore, his massive form radiating authority. Dhara was at his shoulder, her green eyes hard and bright. Beval and Nasima hovered on a current of wind that whipped through the trees, their presence a living gale. Ecthelion, regal and cold as the sea in winter, stood with Kairi, water pooling around their feet, snaking tendrils reaching out as if to anchor them to this realm.
And the soul bonded: Riggs and Lark, wind swirling at their heels. Lawson and Cara, fire sparking in their palms. Rush and Brianna, lightning dancing in their eyes. Crey and Tinley, flames burning blue-hot, faces set with the grim determination of those who knew what was at stake.
Dragons guarded the skies, their scales catching every pulse of firelight, their roars shaking the very bones of the world. Even the wood nymphs had come, their bodies half-formed from bark and blossom, their eyes like emerald flames.
Kimba squeezed his hand, and for a breath, Osiris let himself look at her. She was radiant in her fury—his queen, his equal, the ache and balm of his long life. He felt her power thrumming through their bond, steadying him, spurring him on.
The ground trembled. The gate—wounded by darkness when Kimba had slain the corrupted fire king, Viscious—shuddered and split wider, a canyon of black stone cracking open. Demons spilled from the rift, howling, claws flashing, eyes burning with the hunger of centuries denied.
“Hold the line!” Beaumont’s voice boomed, roots splitting the earth at his command. Dhara conjured a wall of living green–thorns and vines lashing out to ensnare the first wave of fiends.
Osiris summoned shadows, his power a cold blade in his palm, and slashed through a trio of demons as they lunged for Riggs and Lark. Wind howled, lightning shattered the sky. Fire leapt from elemental to dragon and back again, a symphony of fury and hope. Kairi sent a tidal wave crashing through the ranks of the damned. Nasima spun tornadoes that sucked the shrieking horrors into the sky.
Kimba’s dragon form burst forth in a roar of golden flame, her jaws snapping shut around a demon twice her size, her tail sweeping another into a tree that shuddered and bled sap. Osiris fought at her side, every strike a promise. Never again would he forget her, never again would he let the darkness win.
They fought as one. Soul bonded and royals, dragons and nymphs, earth and sky, and fire and water. Even the forest itself seemed to rise, ancient boughs swinging down to crush the invaders, roots dragging them into the hungry soil.
But still they came. The gate yawned wider, the stones splintering. For every demon they cut down, two more surged forward, shrieking and tearing, desperate to taste freedom.
Osiris saw Lark stumble, blood on her brow. Riggs snarled, shielding her with a wall of air so dense it shivered with blue light. Lawson and Cara stood back-to-back, fire whirling from their hands, faces streaked with soot and sweat. Rush and Brianna were a flash of wind and thunder, never in the same place twice–but even they looked strained, flickers of exhaustion in their eyes.
A dragon fell from the sky, crashing through the canopy with a scream that echoed in Osiris’s heart. Kimba let out a bellow of rage, her fire turning white-hot, carving a line of destruction through the horde.
And then—for just a moment—the tide seemed to shift. The elementals pressed forward, blades and magic and claws and teeth, the demons stumbling, faltering. Hope flared in Osiris’s chest, bright and sharp. We might actually do this.
The ground shook. The air split with a sound like a crashing ocean. From the heart of the gate, darkness coalesced—a form, massive, hulking, ten feet tall at least, its features lost in a swirl of shadow. The fighting faltered, the very wind holding its breath.
Time seemed to freeze, every heartbeat stretched thin. Kimba shifted back to her human form as she stepped closer to Osiris and he felt her fear in their bond.
The demon stepped forward, the shadows peeling away from its form. Before their eyes, it changed—shrinking, twisting, refining–until it stood as a man. Not just any man. Tall, dark, and wickedly beautiful, with hair like spilled ink and eyes that gleamed with ancient mischief and something colder, crueler, beneath.
He smiled, slow and sharp, as if the world itself amused him. The power radiating from him was a living thing, pressing down on every soul in the clearing, forcing dragons and elementals alike to their knees.
Osiris knew that face. He’d dreamed of it, hated it, feared it. He reached for Kimba’s hand, finding it, holding tight.
The figure stretched, rolling his shoulders, as if waking from a long, luxurious sleep. He looked at the chaos around him—the battered defenders, the slain and the wounded, the gate gaping behind him.
Then he grinned, teeth flashing white in the moonlight.
“Damn,” he said, his voice a velvet purr that sent a chill through Osiris’s bones. “It’s good to be free.”
And the world trembled as Lucifer stepped onto the earth once more.
Quinn Loftis, Veiled By Smoke
