Lacey's Warriors (Bondmates #6) - Ann Mayburn Page 0,36

his life would end, holding Gwarnon close and praying that the Lord of Life make her death swift, that she didn’t suffer.

After a few moments of praying, he realized that he could still feel Lacey, could feel her fear and confusion, but not her death.

Flashing through the cameras, he at first thought something had gone wrong with the video, because the women were all still, Hive and human alike.

The Hive, with their pale skin and shaved heads, stared at Lacey and Roxy in a way that made his skin crawl. He’d witnessed firsthand the killing stare of the Hive on the battlefield, and knew the women were mentally fighting the Hive in a way he could not see but could feel. Lacey struggled, mumbling something about demons, as Roxy held her close. Then they all went still again, and Chel strained with all his might to feel her through their bond.

But her side was closed off, and it didn’t feel like her mind doing it. No, it was the Hive, and their mental barrier squirmed against his mind like a wall of poisonous worms. Still, no matter how much it repulsed him, he tried to break through that wall, to get to Lacey on the other side. He could almost feel her, could pick up just the faintest strain of her roaring fear before something odd, yet wonderous, happened. Love. A great, powerful, all-consuming love the likes of which he had never experienced came blasting through their bond like an exploding star.

If he had not already been sitting, he would have collapsed as he swore the love of the Lord of Life washed through him.

Chel was still recovering from the psychic blast when Nosa and Cormac, who evidently hadn’t felt it, began to shout.

Forcing his dazed mind to focus, he stared at the viewing screen in astonishment as the two Hive members sprinted into the lake of lava and killed themselves.

“What in the name of the Lord’s dick just happened?” Cormac whispered.

“I do not know,” Gwarnon responded as Roxy and Lacey slumped together, both panting and crying. “But I believe…I believe our women just defeated the Hive in mental combat and won the Baladium.”

Chapter 7

Lacey

Darkness. She was surrounded by darkness. On all sides, everywhere she looked, nothing but malignancy and rot. Minds so twisted, it was like being submerged in a stream of toxic filth. She was drowning in their hate, in their almost mechanical and constant stage of rage. Here and there, brief bursts of green light exploded in a shower of sparks somewhere deep in the river, and the darkness would swarm there like sharks on a chunk of meat.

A softly glowing shield of glowing blue light surrounded her, cutting her off from the flow of evil, shielding her from their direct touch. But their whispers reached her, hissing promises of cut flesh and broken bone, aroused moans while speaking of the joy of breaking a man’s mind. Of watching a victim chew off their own tongue as the pain overtook them. The vile, crazy ravings of a billion female voices screamed for her attention, demanding that she join them in their unending search for the bliss of causing someone pain.

“No,” she tried to shout. But, in the way of dreams, her voice came out in a whisper.

The darkness surged at that sound, and she became aware of a terrible, ancient presence swimming through the dark river of souls in her direction. The broken spirits around her began to flee, leaving her floating strangely alone in…nothingness. Through that abyss, a massive presence swam closer, a mind so powerful it would crush her as easily as a child stepping on an empty robin’s eggshell. Panic urged her to go, to flee, to get the hell out of this things way before it came any closer.

Already she could hear the somehow seductive, persuasive feminine voice blowing in on a vile breeze, urging her to join them, to become a part of the Hive.

“No!” she tried to scream again, but only that damn whisper came out. “Never! I will never join you!”

“Lacey!” Gwarnon shouted right in her ear, so hard it jerked her out of her dreams. “Wake up!”

Sucking in a gasping lungful of air, she clutched at the slippery cream sheets pooling around her bare waist, the sweat on her the skin of her torso cooling in the room’s ambient breeze.

As her lungs struggled to work, Chel sat up from where he’d been lying next to her, his dark eyes