Dark Queen

xxix.

     This was a joke, right? Zora stared at her half brother in disbelief, even as battle raged around them. What?

     "Impossible. You're lying."

     "Why would I?" he said, brushing off rubble from her clothes. The blood from his forehead ran down his collarbone dotted his tunic. "It's true."

     Her mind was racing. Did that mean she was –

     He scoffs. "You don't have any monster blood in you, fool. I was the only one chosen by Father for the experiments. Took twelve years for every pint of blood to be magically fused with Nefari blood. Finally, I can reap what I sowed.

      Jurauk stiffened, and a fire blazed in his amber orbs. "Where did that Nefari blood come from?" he demanded. Gregori smiled.

     "How naïve. Do you not know the dealings of your own kind? I suppose you wouldn't. This pact was made between my father and the Nefarian Impriessa many years ago. The blood of a monster prince for the blood of a human one. Ironic, no?"

     "Jurauk?" Zora was terrified to look at him. Slowly, he shook his head.

     "Soren," he muttered, the name unfamiliar to Zora. Without warning, he lunged at Gregori. But Gregori was fast and easily dodged.

     "Mind telling me who you are?" the boy-king shouted, snatching up a sword from the ground and pointing it at Jurauk.

     "He was forced!" Jurauk shouted, claws extended and aimed for his foe. They clashed, talons against steel, and Zora cringed at the sound. "He was forced by that vile bitch Lebony! How dare she!"

     The rage in his powerful, fluid motions was frightening. Zora knew she couldn't stop him, so she turned to find Pyter who was facing off against a trio of men. She hefted up a large chunk of debris and hurled it at the nearest one's head with all her might. A resonating thunk, and he went down, blood trickling from under the dent in his helmet. "Pyter! To your left!"

     He whirled and stuck his blade through his opponent's ribs, pulling it out with a grimace. "We can't keep this up much longer! I've got to kill Gregori, and then we have to make a run for it."

     She spared a glance back at Jurauk. The others had cleared a circle in which Gregori and Jurauk circled each other, eyes locked, knees trembling. They both looked fatigued. Gregori was sporting a nasty cut on his left arm while a river of blood gushed from Jurauk's shoulder. All the battle noise faded into the background until it was just the two fighting.

     Gregori lashed out with his foot, catching Jurauk in the side, sending him down with a grunt. Before Gregori could stab downward, Jurauk rolled to the side, and the tip of the sword embedded itself in the floor. Gregori wriggled the handle, trying to free his weapon. Jurauk took this chance to knee his opponent in the gut and stagger back to his feet, only to block the point of a spear from one of Gregori's men.