The thunderous boom of the dragons ravaging the earth reverberated around Cole. He was swept up in a sea of death, surrounded by enemies, and hacking his way through their bodies as he sought to destroy the adversaries closing in on him.
Why couldn’t they all die? And where were they all coming from?
Blood coated his hair, slid down his face, and plastered his clothes to him. Those clothes weighed him down, but he continued to hack and carve and slaughter his way through the immortals surrounding him.
The stench of blood clogged his nose as it caked his nostrils. Breathing through his mouth was the only option, and when he did, he inhaled blood until it coated his tongue.
He spit the blood out, but it filled his mouth faster than he could rid himself of it. The dragons released another wave of fire upon the world. Their flames leapt so high that shadows of fire danced across the land until it looked like a black inferno was spreading toward them.
One of his enemies grasped his sword hand, and spinning toward the faceless beast, Cole seized its throat and smashed it into the ground.
The roar of dragons and the pulse of blood filled his ears as his hand tightened on his enemy’s throat. Their fists battered him, but he barely felt the blows as blood dripped from his hair and splashed onto his victim.
The punches hit him harder; his victim squirmed beneath him, but he kept them pinned as he sought to destroy them. I will not let them win.
He bared down as his faceless victim shifted and blurred. He glimpsed red hair as the smell of strawberries pierced through the stench of blood. Cole blinked to clear his mind of the image, but the woman… no, Lexi didn’t go away.
A fist hit him square in the jaw. It snapped his head back at the same time it knocked away the remaining dregs of his nightmare and threw him back into reality.
He wasn’t strangling some nameless opponent; he was strangling… Lexi!
With a shout, he threw himself away from her and rolled across the bed. Her wheezing, choking sounds followed him. Even more than the blood and death of the war, he knew those sounds would haunt him for the rest of his days.
“Fuck, fuck, FUCK!” he snarled as he launched to his feet.
Turning back toward her, he watched as she rolled across the bed and slid off the other side with a hand on her throat. He didn’t recall moving, but suddenly he was around the bed and going toward her as she huddled against the wall. Her fingers touched her temple before pulling away.
He spotted a red lump on her forehead along with what looked like a bit of silver. He glanced at the bed frame; she must have hit her head on it when she fell off the bed. She rubbed at the mark, and the silver vanished, but the lump remained.
When she saw him coming, she held out her palm to stop him. The wild beat of her heart and the pungent stench of her terror froze him.
“Shit, Lexi. Shit! I didn’t…. I wasn’t…. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I would never….”
His next words froze in his mouth. Cole couldn’t say he would never harm her when he just had, but he hadn’t meant to.
Kneeling in front of her, he ached to draw her into his arms as her striking green eyes studied him warily. He didn’t reach for her and instead rested his fingers on the ground.
“I would never hurt you on purpose,” he said.
He’d cut off his hand before he ever hurt her on purpose, but that hand had also left red welts along the delicate column of her throat. When he leaned closer to her, she shied away from him, and he recoiled.
“And who is going to protect her from you?”
“Who indeed, brother?”
Sahira and Brokk’s words ran through his mind as he gazed at her. He’d promised to keep her safe from Malakai, but he was the one who did this to her.
He slammed his hand onto the floor. “Fuck!”
Her eyes widened, but she didn’t recoil from him again; even still, more waves of self-hatred swamped him. He should be trying to calm her; he was making things worse.
“Lexi,” he whispered. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…. I would never do this to you on purpose. I swear, I would never do this on purpose. I….” He glanced at the windows as a crashing wave of thunder shook the house.
His nightmare rushed back to him; only it wasn’t a nightmare. At one time, it was as real as the storm raging outside. He’d stood, covered in blood, on that field. The thick liquid had clogged his nose and filled his mouth as he hacked his way through so many.
When the falling bodies littered the field, he climbed over the growing mound they created. He lost himself to the bloodlust as he sought to survive, but he didn’t let the lycan part of himself take control.
He relied on his fae magic, superior strength, and fighting skills to carry him through the battle. However, knowing she was in danger—even if he was the threat—caused the beast to prowl beneath the surface. His claws scraped the wooden floor as they lengthened and retracted.
“It won’t happen again,” he said as he edged away from her. He’d make sure Malakai stayed away from her, but so would he. “You should go.”
But he didn’t want her to leave. He’d give anything to shelter her from the world as he lost himself to her kiss again.
She would chase away the nightmares, he was sure of it, but in the process, he might become her biggest nightmare. He refused to let that happen.
“What… what were you dreaming about?” she whispered in a hoarse voice.
The rawness of her voice made him wince, and he crept further away. His fangs extended as his teeth ground together.
If anyone else had dared to do this to her, he would have torn them to shreds, but he couldn’t destroy himself… no matter how badly he wanted to.
“It doesn’t matter,” he said.
“It does matter,” she whispered.
“No, it doesn’t.”
He rose, and when her eyes became saucers that latched onto his waist, he recalled his nudity.