The Curse (Belador #3)(94)

No Belador could act against Brina’s orders while here on Treoir, even if they wanted to. Storm might try, since he was not of the tribe. Evalle could only hope that Tzader would be able to stop Storm so he didn’t die trying to help her.

In the next heartbeat, Brina said, “Evalle Kincaid, I give you permission to shift into your Alterant form. But know that if you do not shift back, Macha will destroy you.”

“I understand. Now, please, move to the safest place you can with Lanna … in case I don’t stop him.”





THIRTY-TWO




Evalle drew on the power she held deep inside, calling up her beast. She walked down the steps of Treoir Castle as the change came over her. Power surged from her core, flooding her limbs until bones cracked and altered with her shape. Her clothes shredded away from muscles that bulged and twisted into grotesque shapes.

Her feet burst out of her boots, toes curling with claws.

Pain ricocheted through her head as jawbones popped and cracked, widening to accept the double row of jagged fangs. Scales covered her torso, and coarse black hair hung from her arms and legs.

Even when she reached ten feet in height, the demon troll still towered over her, but Evalle didn’t care. She’d either prove her value to the Beladors here and now or die trying.

She flipped the sword over in her hand, holding the blade like a throwing dagger in her thick fingers now that her hands had outgrown the weapon. One strong strike could end this quickly. She threw the sword at the troll’s chest.

He shocked her with his agility, spinning around as the sword flew past him and stuck into the ground.

She fisted her hands and threw kinetic blasts at him.

He staggered back a step, howled and kept coming.

She charged him, hoping her momentum would balance out the difference in size. Head down, she slammed him in the middle. He went backward, but her eyes crossed from the power of the hit. Falling forward on top of him, she scrambled off and whipped onto her feet, ready.

The blasted troll was just as quick.

He lunged and swung a fist at her, opening his fingers at the last moment to swipe three sharp claws across her chest. She growled at the slash of agony burning her skin and drove her fist into the troll’s jaw.

She kicked him in the crotch.

That should have taken him to his knees, but didn’t.

He battled her slug for slug, back and forth, draining her stamina.

She shoved away, backing up several steps as if she retreated.

His eyes glowed a putrid yellow with black diamond centers when he smiled.

You haven’t beaten me yet. But he would if this didn’t end soon. Blood dripped from the side of her mouth and more flowed from the gouge on her chest. She lifted a hand and waved him forward, taunting him to come at her.

And he did.

She waited until the last possible second, hoping she still possessed reflexes quick enough to dodge. His mouth opened in a snarl, claws reaching for more blood.

She dove down, taking his feet out from under him. Fear of being pinned under his weight gave her a burst of speed to push herself through his legs.

He hit the ground, dropping like a ten-story building.

She shoved up to her feet, swaying, then dove onto his back.

She grabbed his head and twisted.

His neck didn’t break. Ah, crap.

He growled, teeth snapping. In a fast move, he bent his arms, pushing himself up off the ground and flipping backward to land with her beneath him.

His brutal weight hit hard on top of her. Ribs cracked. Hers. Excruciating pain blinded her.

She didn’t have the strength to draw on her beast to heal.

Power barreled through her.

Tzader and Quinn were linking with her. No, it’s too dangerous.

New energy pulsed in Evalle’s veins, aiding her to keep fighting. But no matter how hard they fed their energy into the link, Tzader and Quinn couldn’t send enough power to fuel the body of her beast.

The troll rolled off her and pushed up on his knees. He reached for her throat.

She slammed a fist into his head and then flipped away.

He growled and grabbed a fist of her hair, yanking her back until she could see the fangs in his open mouth.

Reaching her hand out, she used kinetics to call back the sword that had missed hitting the troll. The cool metal handle slammed into her hand as the troll’s jaws came down for her throat. She slashed across his throat.

Green blood spewed over her.

Eyes bulging, the troll hung there suspended for a second until Evalle shoved him to the side where his body twitched and jerked.

The giant finally stopped moving.

Her ribs screamed in pain, but she got to her knees, then her feet, weaving where she stood. As Tzader and Quinn unlinked with her, Evalle’s body trembled from the brutal attack. She ached everywhere, except in her heart, where happiness exploded over having protected their warrior queen.

The silence drew Evalle’s eyes to the field between her and the forest where Beladors stood among dead trolls and the bodies of fallen Belador warriors.

With the exception of Tzader and Quinn, who had seen her once before in her beast state, mouths gaped open on every other Belador.

Storm was in the grasp of two warriors, as if they’d had to hold him back at one time, but not now. The shock in his eyes tore her insides apart worse than her cracked ribs.

Tears flooded her eyes, but she squeezed them shut, refusing to show her hurt. What had she expected? That they would see past the hideous monster she’d shifted into … to the woman who fought to be accepted?