When Niall woke, a carnal rage flooded over him. A thousand sensations bombarded his mind, but the largest one was the General’s face. How he wanted to burn that face. Pain made him scream, but it sounded like a thousand beasts shrieked instead.
“Is this normal?” Niall recognized Pontris’s voice but could not see him. All he saw was Torant, all he wanted was to squeeze that throat of his, rip the blood out of him.
“Relax. His time has already come and gone.” Shival came into his mind’s eye, and the world righted itself again.
Her injuries were severe. Shival’s shoulder looked disfigured and swollen. Dried blood still marred her skin and matted her tunic to her shoulder. Her chest bore many long cuts, as if someone took a dagger and sliced her skin open out of curiosity. No blood poured from the wounds, and Niall found that strange.
As he wondered how she managed to save him, he noticed his arm wasn’t burned. His hair had regrown, and his pain wasn’t as grievous as he expected, even as his arm bent far back and several of his fingers all but touched the back of his hand.
The countless thoughts and urges swallowed his mind again, and he roared. Suddenly his outreached claws grabbed Torant, took him into the air and dropped him into a flaming whirlwind of multi-colored fire, fueled by his brethren. His sisters, his brothers. His family. Torant had lied. He’d found a way to create another Controller. Conflicting messages were too much for his siblings, throwing them into madness beyond any control. Their regret and rage coursed through his blood. Oh, how he roared for them, mourned for those they killed, and delighted at the sight of his siblings as they raided Torant’s army. Smoke filled his lungs and he blew it out again. Niall encouraged them to kill every last soldier, saw the enemy banners for the first time. Torant hadn’t even been leading the Monarch’s army toward the city.
Betrayer, oath-breaker.
Slay him.
Burn him.
Dragons shrieked and flew with Niall through the camp with newfound fervor. The city’s enemies would fall. Niall would make sure of it.
“Enough.”
Someone shook Niall and the radiant light of the Healer’s Court came into view. Pontris, Dorim, and Kye sat on the edge of a pool. Shival, completely naked, lounged in the water. Her wounds weren’t visible anymore. She stared at him, and Niall knew he looked back on her with eyes as black as her own.
They would kill all who stood against them, all who betrayed them. They would rule with a justice that burned.