Davyn bowed his head and saluted him. "As you wish, my lord." He motioned for Illyria and two more Spathi to join him.
Stryker returned to his throne, where he sat with a whole new outlook on the future of his people. The dawn of the Daimon was just beginning, and he intended to rain hell on the humans before all was said and done.
Gazing down, he curled his lip at the three gallu bodies on the floor. They were as repugnant to him as his father. "Could someone clean up the mess? Take those outside and burn them."
A small group came forward to obey him as Zephyra ascended his dais.
Ignoring his people who watched, he took her hand into his and kissed her knuckles. "Thank you, Phyra. You could have kept that bit to yourself and allowed me and my people to die."
She cast her gaze to the room. "Regardless of how I feel about you personally, I am Atlantean and an Apollite." She swept her hand out to indicate his soldiers. "We are the last warriors of our kind. Be damned if I'm going to stand by and watch the gallu prey on us. They're inferior maggots. We are the children of the gods. We bow to no one."
Stryker smiled at the confusion on the faces of his people. "It just occurred to me that no one knows who you are, my love." Standing up, he turned her to face the crowd. "Daimons. My brothers and sisters, allow me to introduce Zephyra. My queen."
Zephyra tensed at his proclamation. "Aren't you being presumptuous?" she asked under her breath.
He leaned forward to whisper in her ear. "If you kill me, my people will need a leader. After this I trust you will do what's best for them. Whether married to me or not, you are my queen and my equal. There is no one else I would trust to lead and protect my people."
She inclined her head to him.
Stryker held his hand out toward Medea. "And this is my daughter. I trust you will all show Medea and Zephyra the respect and deference they deserve." He quirked a wry grin. "If not, I'm sure they'll painfully make you regret any slight you give them."
Medea looked less than pleased by the cheers that rang out around her. But Zephyra didn't seem to mind their adulation.
As Stryker took a step toward his daughter, Davyn returned with a gallu. He threw the demon toward the two Daimons who'd accompanied him. They set on the gallu with a fervor born of desperation and were joined by three more Daimons who helped in the feeding. The demon did his best to fight, but he was no match for the Daimons who held him down and preyed on him.
Stryker watched with a morbid fascination as the Daimons started converting. Would this work? Or would they have to put his men down?
The answer came as Davyn killed the gallu. The demon gave one last scream of pain and then died on the floor below. The first Daimon, Laeta, grabbed the soul and took it in. Her eyes glowed red as she leaned her head back and cried out.
An instant later, she rose to her feet and lifted her shirt. Her Daimon's mark was gone.
And so were the marks from the others who'd fed on the gallu.
Stryker wanted to shout out in joy as he realized they'd found the key to their survival. The key to their salvation.
Overcome by happiness, he snatched Zephyra up and twirled around with her. "You are brilliant!" he said, laughing.
Zephyra couldn't breathe as she saw the boy she'd loved inside the man she loathed. This was the same Strykerius who'd stolen her heart. Closing her eyes, she savored the feel of him holding her. It felt so good to be held again. To feel like she was a part of something and not just going through the motions of life. For so long she'd been numb.
But right here, right now, she felt whole. Like she'd given something to the world that mattered. And to the Daimons who no longer had to scrounge for souls she had.
She'd given them life.
And now they, like Stryker, cheered her name. It was the headiest of combinations.
Smiling, she looked down into his silver eyes that shimmered with a life force equal to her own. Part of her wanted to hold on to him forever and the other wanted to beat him for not being there for her when she needed him. For not holding her hand while she struggled to bring their baby into the world. Not teaching Medea how to walk and talk.
He'd missed everything.
The war inside her was harsh and it was painful. How could he make her feel so torn?
And while he held her, all she could remember was how safe she felt in his arms. She was strong, stronger than she ever needed to be, and yet he made her weak in the knees and the heart. Made her want to lean on him even though she was more than capable of surviving alone.
Surviving. That's exactly what she did without him. She survived.
But with him, she lived.
In this moment, she surrendered herself to that sensation. To the sound of his laughter in her ears and the feel of his arms holding her close to that hard, perfect body. Growl ing with the ferocity of her need, she kissed him.