Dark Possession - Aja James Page 0,67

if he could avoid it (if his powers would even obey him) because there were observers, and he’d rather keep his secret to himself for now.

“Come,” he commanded the Champion with a beckoning crook of his fingers.

And fuck did the male come—like a freight train.

With a few huge leaps, the warrior hurled himself past the edge of the falls and charged full speed across the two-feet deep rapids. So powerful were his strides that he appeared to be walking on water.

Ramses did the same. And when they were a few feet away from each other, they leapt into the air at the same time, colliding together in a tangle of fists and feet above the falls, before crashing back down into the icy cold water.

Each opponent grappled for supremacy in the no-holds-barred fight.

They were evenly matched. Though Ramses’ muscles were heavier, thicker, the other male was taller, with longer reach. And hitting him was like striking steel. There was no give on his body. All hard edges and lean strength.

The male had his arm locked around Ramses’ throat, but just as he was tightening to choke, Ramses shoved up with the heel of his palm, directly into the vulnerable underside of the male’s chin, pushing him back, just shy of snapping his skull straight off his neck.

With his backward momentum, the male snapped his booted feet in a flash kick as he backflipped, connecting solidly with Ramses’ chest and head.

With a grunt, Ramses didn’t spend even half a second in recovery time before charging forward, gouging his shoulder into the male as he landed back on his feet, throwing him right off them again and into the rapids on his back.

The male rolled before Ramses could pin him, and both males were back on their feet, locked in mortal combat once more.

As he engaged his opponent, Ramses registered a few things:

One, the warrior was definitely his equal in every way. His strength, his experience that could only come from thousands of years of training, his aggression, and his resolve. If they weren’t fighting to the death, Ramses might recruit him to join the Chosen.

But Two, Ramses immediately doubted that the warrior would become anyone else’s soldier. He was clearly his own ruler and bowed down to no one, including Queen Anya who’d somehow enlisted him to be her Champion.

Which led to three—there was definitely something familiar about him, but Ramses had never looked upon this male before. The left side of the male’s face, all the way down his neck and what could be seen of his collarbone and chest, his left arm and hand, was covered with black symbols, like tattooed old runes. His thick, spiky black hair waved away from his face like the tip of a flame. His eyes were also black, unnaturally so, the pupils indistinguishable from the irises.

Ramses had never beheld such a face; he would remember if he had. Yet he was also certain he’d met the male before. But how? Where and when?

No time to sort it out now, because the male just leapt five feet in the air and delivered a knee thrust into Ramses’ jaw.

If he hadn’t used his Gift to harden his flesh literally into stone in that moment, his jaw would be broken in too many places to count.

Ramses snapped around and shot a spinning side kick into the male’s side with enough force to crush his ribcage and puncture his liver.

But the warrior took the hit with a slight side step and a grunt, barely winded when he engaged Ramses head on once more.

They were both drenched to the bone in icy water by now, but neither male felt it. The heat from their battle overwhelmed all else. They only focused on each other, on dealing the lethal blow that would declare one of them the victor.

But the more he fought, the more Ramses unconsciously dragged his feet.

Staring into the other warrior’s pitch-black eyes, long buried memories suddenly flooded his mind…

First Cycle of the Dark Queen Ashlu, sixth millennium BC.

The last Dark One standing to confront him was the tall, flame-haired warrior with searing amber eyes.

The Elemental in disguise faced his opponent with hands fisted at his sides, veins popping everywhere beneath his skin, his blood crackling with adrenaline and power.

Instead of feeling exhausted from three days and nights of nonstop mortal combat, he was fueled with aggression and strength, and he gladly anticipated the last fighter, for it promised to be an epic battle.

The Elemental looked to