One Silent Night

CHAPTER 10

ZEPHYRA SAT ON STRYKER'S THRONE WHILE HE and his Daimons were off fighting the gallu. She'd sent Medea with her father, then stayed behind to sort through everything that had happened in the last few hours.

She needed time alone to think and to absorb all the complications that had blindsided her. It was all coming at her too quickly, and she was overwhelmed by her emotions and by the sheer magnitude of Stryker's presence. And his passion. But as she sat here alone in the darkness, for the first time in centuries she could see a better future.

Stryker standing at her side while they fought to reclaim their place in the world that had been so hostile to them.

Closing her eyes, she imagined what it would be like to sit here with him while they commanded his army. Now that they had the power of the gallu inside them, they could come out of hiding and live again in the world of man.

No, not the world of man.

The world of the Daimon.

A slow smile curled her lips as she saw that so clearly in her mind. With Medea's powers, they could rout out whatever gallu were still around and corral other demons to see what powers they could strip from them and use, too. There was no limit to what they might be capable of doing.

They could even become a new breed of gods.

Why had she never thought of this before?

Because she'd been a shell of a person for far too long. She'd forgotten what it was like to have this fire inside her that wanted more. This fire that lived and breathed and consumed. The fire that wouldn't be denied and that craved a better existence than the one she'd known.

For the first time in centuries, she was whole and she saw a future for herself and her daughter. One of power . . .

Of destruction. . . .

"You don't need Stryker for that."

She opened her eyes to find War standing in front of her. More handsome than a god of destruction should be, he stood with his weight on one leg and an arrogant countenance that would have been devastating had she not known the truth of his lethal capriciousness. To him they were all nothing but pawns to be commanded and destroyed at his whims.

But she could never be so stupid. Rage simmered in her blood as she rose to her feet to let him know that she wasn't afraid of him or his powers. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see Stryker, but instead, I see the most beautiful woman ever born. Truly you are exceptional."

She scoffed. "I don't flatter easily."

Before she could blink, he was beside her. His eyes were dark as he looked down at her with a hunger that was flattering, hot, and terrifying. A hint of a smile played at the edge of his lips. "And I don't give it as a rule. But you . . ." He sucked his breath in sharply as he gave her an appreciative once-over. "You are enough to drive even a god mad with desire."

She stiffened at his insinuation and at his underestimation of her resolve. "You're boring me."

His smile spread over his face and turned instantly charming . . . as if that could disguise the fact that he was a jackal waiting for a chance to leap at her throat. "I would never want to do that, love. In fact, what I want is to see you come into your own. Imagine a world where you alone rule. A world that is laid at your feet with servants and every desire you have ever had fulfilled."

Zephyra saw it clearly before her. Even with her eyes open, she could picture the very things he described. "And what price would I have to pay?"

He brushed a lock of her hair off her shoulder, his fingers lingering on her neck as he leaned close to inhale her scent. Strange how that failed to elicit the chills that appeared whenever Stryker touched her like that. Instead, she was cold and guarded. "No price. I only wanted to point out that Stryker has designated you and your daughter as his heirs. Should he die, all of this would be yours in his place."

She frowned at what he was implying.

"Think about it," he said seductively. "A world without serving Artemis. Thousands of warriors at your fingertips who are willing to die for your pleasure. Bolt holes that can take you anywhere on earth. You would be a power to reckon with and all you have to do is complete the mission Artemis gave you . . . the mission you owe her. Kill Stryker." He smiled at her as his tone turned deep and husky. "I know you want to, and deep inside so do you. Stryker left you once and you know that if given a chance, he'd do it again."

She tensed with the truth and doubt that lingered in her mind.

She knew she could trust herself. But could she honestly trust him?

"THE GALLU ARE IN RETREAT."

Zephyra looked up as Stryker entered the bedroom, his eyes bright and cheeks flushed. He reminded her of a boy back from a thrill ride who was proud of himself for completing it.

It also reminded her of the boy who'd walked out and left her alone to fend for herself and her daughter. The boy who'd never once inquired about their welfare.

"Kill Stryker." War's words rang in her ears.

Strange how easy that assignment had seemed when Artemis had given it to her. It wasn't so simple now. Especially not when he flopped on the bed, by her side, and all the anger she wanted to feel toward him dissipated.

He was sex walking on two legs, and those legs were so long, they hung off the edge of the bed by at least ten inches. Even worse, the denim cupped his butt in a way that ought to be obscene and it made her want to sink her teeth into him. Or more to the point, wrap him around her until they were both sweaty and spent.

Kill him.

Ignoring her inner voice, she looked at him. "So you've routed them. Now what?"

He wiped at a smear of blood on his cheek and let out a tired sigh. His hair was damp and his cheeks mottled from the exertion of fighting. It made his silver eyes glow even more. "It's dawn, so we're pulling back. At dusk, we'll be back on their asses like Velcro." He let out another deep breath. "Kessar got away, which would have ruined my night had I not come home to find the most beautiful woman in the world lying on my bed." He lifted her hand up to nibble her fingertips. Chills spread up her arm, over her body, as his eyes seduced her even more. "It would have been better had she been naked, but warm and inviting either way."

She watched the way he savored her touch as he rubbed his bristled chin against her palm. The tickle made her instantly hot and aching. Until today, she'd never realized just how lonely she'd been. How much she wanted to be held by someone.

No, not someone. Him.

A hint of a smile curled his lips as he moved closer to her to place the faintest, softest kiss on her lips. His fangs scraped her bottom lip ever so gently. The mark of a true predator. When they'd been married, they'd had no fangs. No craving for blood . . .

They'd just been two kids in love.

Stryker moved from her lips to her neck, where he slowly laved her skin, making her wet and needy. "Stay with me, Phyra," he breathed in her ear.

"I'm not the one who left."

Stryker gathered her into his arms and savored the softness of her body against his as guilt shredded him. He'd made so many mistakes in his past. Mistakes that kept him awake long past dawn when he should have been sleeping. But with her here, he felt as if he had another chance to undo some of what tore at his conscience.

"I know." He wanted to make her forget the past. To earn her trust again. When he thought of all the years they'd been apart that they could have been together, it killed him. Because of his own stupidity, he'd missed everything.

His daughter's first step. First crush. Her marriage and the birth and death of the grandchild he'd never known. He should have been there to protect them.

It was what he'd promised.

Perhaps this was his punishment for making a vow before the gods that he hadn't kept. To see them now and lose them for eternity.

But he had to have hope. He couldn't just walk away without trying to salvage what they'd once shared. "Tell me what to say or do to earn your forgiveness."

Her eyes were as tormented as his soul. "I don't know, Stryker. Time has hardened me."

He snorted. "You? You're not the one who killed your own child over a simple act." Anger and grief ripped at his conscience as he saw Urian's face in his mind. But that was nothing compared to the guilt of what he'd done. "You talk about the humans killing your son-in-law when I'm the one who killed Urian's wife. I took from my child the one thing he loved more than the world. What kind of bastard am I?"

He had become his own father, and that he hated most of all. If only he could go back and undo that as well.

Zephyra brushed the hair back from his eyes. "Why?"

That was as complicated as the universe, and he was still trying to unravel all the reasons for what had spurred him to become the very monster he'd tried so hard not to be.

"She was part of Apollo's bastard Atlantean line. The descendant of my Apollite half sisters. For centuries, I'd been hunting them, killing them off in an effort to kill my father. So long as they live, he lives. He made the same bargain with their lineage as he made with mine . . . that our lives were conjoined—and unlike me and my descendants, they never went Daimon, so while my tie to him was severed, theirs never was. And after what he'd done to me over you, I wanted him dead."

He ground his teeth as raw emotions swelled and he craved the taste of his father's blood over everything. "All I remember from my childhood was the way my father doted on my sisters, especially the eldest, and how many times he said she should have been his legacy instead of me. No matter how hard I tried, I was never good enough for him. In retrospect, I don't know now why I even tried to please him, but since I had no mother to love me, I'd hoped that he might. It was why Satara and I were . . . well, as close as two vipers can be. Because her mother was human and not Apollite, she was never good enough for him, either. She was the only person he ever treated worse than me." It was also why he hated Apollymi so much. In the end, he hadn't been good enough for her any more than he'd been for his father.

She still preferred Acheron to him even though Acheron fought against her wishes and protected the very people she wanted to destroy. Meanwhile, he served her faithfully.

Just once in his existence, he wanted to be good enough for someone. To have one person who was willing to sacrifice for him.

But it wasn't meant to be.

"When Urian went behind my back to marry one of them and I found out about it, my temper exploded. I didn't see the repercussions past my need to strike out and hurt the very person I should have protected." He shook his head. "I'm such a bastard."

She didn't comment on that. Instead, she took his hand into hers and gave him a gimlet stare. "Why didn't you tell me this when we were married?"

He glanced down at their entwined hands and felt a surge of strength over the fact that she wasn't shoving him away in disgust. He'd never been this open with another soul and he wondered why he was so open now.

But then he knew. She was his heart and he'd missed having that vital organ. "I was ashamed. You were so impressed with my lineage that I didn't want you to know the truth of what my father thought of me. I didn't want anyone to ever learn it. I wanted to pretend that I was his beloved son who was destined to carry out his exalted plans."

He looked away, unable to bear her scrutiny as he laid bare the sorest part of his soul—it was a weapon he'd never laid into the hands of another being. "You know what the world was like then. I was the only Apollite son and my father used to tell me that my eldest sister was more of a man than I was." His gaze burned as he stared at the floor and he remembered his father putting him into a dress once. He'd barely stepped foot into his father's temple when Apollo had changed his clothes in the blink of an eye. "Now you look the part of your true nature. Perhaps I should geld you, too . . . if only I didn't need you to breed. I can only hope your sons have more testosterone than you do." Those words and the humiliation he'd felt were still branded inside his soul. His father's derision had hardened him to the point he had nothing left for anyone else. "Have you any idea how painful that is to admit even now?"

Her gaze softened as she took his hand and held it against her heart. "Is that why you loved me? Because you didn't think you could do better?"

His anger snapped at such a question. "I loved you because of the way you made me feel whenever we were together. Like I mattered to you. In your eyes, I was the man I'd hoped to be even while my father told me the only thing I'd ever be was a disappointment to him. And I haven't felt that way since the night I walked out the door and left you. You say you died that night. I've died every night since then. Every one."

Her nails dug into the flesh of his hand. "I hate you, Stryker."

Honestly, he didn't expect anything more from her. It was all he seemed to elicit out of everyone. His heart aching, he started away from her side.

She caught him and pulled him back until he was lying in her arms.

Startled, he locked gazes with her.

"You're still as stupid now as you were then."

His temper flared at her angry words, but before he could tell her to fuck off, she pulled his head to hers and kissed him with a passion so furious it made his senses swirl.

Cupping her head in his hand, he breathed her in and let the feel of her lips chase away all the bad memories that haunted him. It was amazing the lies a person could hide. The shame that they never wanted exposed. It was so much easier to pretend that his father had loved him, that it had been an oversight that caused Apollo to curse him along with the rest of the Apollite race.

But the harsh, bare truth . . . it was something Stryker had never wanted to face. His father hadn't cared. And that was hurtful. Angry. Debilitating.

He closed his eyes as Zephyra nipped his chin and took away the pain of his reality. Dissolving their clothes, he rolled until she was on top of him. She was the only one he'd ever given power over him to. He belonged to her and he knew it. She'd branded herself into his soul eleven thousand years ago that day on the dock when she'd run from him. And if he had to die, he wanted it to be by her hand. By the hand of someone who had at least loved him for a little while.

Reaching up, he cupped her face in his hands while he savored the sight of her naked body on top of his. He trailed his hands from her face down to her breasts. Lush and full, they, too, had haunted his nights and left him aching for the loss of her and for moments like this one.

"When are you ever going to learn me, Stryker?" she asked.

"How so?"

She traced the lines of his lips with one long fingernail. "I say things in anger that I never mean. When I told you to leave, all I wanted was for you to stay. I wanted to hurt you the way you'd crushed me."

"You told me I was worthless."

"That I did mean. But only because you were packing your things to obey your father and to leave me. That made me feel worthless too and so I struck out at you."

And those words had ruined him. His anger surged anew. "And you'd made me feel like my father did. Like I was less than a man. His criticisms had always hurt, but yours cut me all the way to the bone. They left scars on me that still haven't healed."

She slapped at his chest. Not painfully, but forcefully enough to get her point across that she was still angry at him. "What do you think you did to me? Have you any idea how many times in my life I was called a whore? Before I went to Artemis, I went back to my father. He took the money you'd left with me and then threw me out to the streets. He told me that if I couldn't hold on to my husband I should go spread my legs for another who might find some use for me."

He winced and then glared, wishing he'd known about it. "I would have killed your father had I known."

"But you didn't and that's why I hated you even more. You knew what kind of hell I'd lived in before you married me. That my father was abusive and harsh. What did you think I was going to do on my own in a world where a woman couldn't even shop unless a man was with her?"

He pulled her down, over him. So close that he could feel her breath fall against his face. "All I could think of was my father killing you because of me and then making me live, knowing what I'd done to you, what I'd forced him to do. He would never have given me the peace of death. And I knew that was the one thing I wasn't strong enough to bear . . . living on after your death that I caused."

Zephyra wanted to forgive him. She did. But she'd been hurt so badly. Those early years with Medea had been so difficult, and while Artemis had given them shelter, she'd never been kind to either of them.

She'd changed so much since the night he'd left.

But then he'd changed, too. He wasn't the same little boy who was afraid of angering his father. The fact that he'd stalked and killed his father's lineage proved that.

Kill him.

It was what War wanted her to do. What Artemis wanted.

But what of her desires?

His silver eyes burned into her as the tormented pain in them reached far into her heart. "Forgive me, Zephyra, and I swear not to the gods but on my honor and soul that I won't ever disappoint you again. Let me do what I should have done all those centuries ago."

"And that is?"

"Give you my heart, my loyalty, and my service. No one will ever divide us again. I swear it on all that I am."

Zephyra raked her nails lightly over his chest. "The only one who ever divided us was you."

"And your angry stubbornness. I left, but you wounded me deep on my way out the door. You brutalized my dignity and my manhood. Had you not gone on the attack, I might have stood up to my father. But it was hard to rationalize staying with you when you said the very things to me that he did."

She frowned as she tried to remember their fight. His words still rang in her mind, but hers . . . those were hazy or missing. "What did I say?"

His features were shocked. "Don't you remember?"

"Not really."

Stryker reached up and placed his fingers against her temples. With his god's powers, he replayed that night for her. It was something he'd never done. He preferred to remember her holding him in her arms. But it was time she remembered exactly what she'd done to him.

He and his father were alone in the cottage that Stryker had called home with Zephyra.

Almost fifteen years old, he was gangly and lean. Not quite at home in his body, he'd been clumsy. Apollo had grabbed him by the hair, his face contorted by rage. "Do you really think I would tolerate you and that whore to breed? You will do as you're told, boy, or I'll rain down the wrath of the gods in a way that will make all past punishments look like paradise."

He'd tried to fight, but his powers were nothing in comparison to his father's. "She's all I've ever wanted, Father. Please don't ask me to do this."

Apollo had yanked harshly on his hair before he released him. "I'm not asking you anything. I'm telling you. If you're not gone from here by dawn, I will have her raped and beaten until you can't even recognize her."

Stryker had been horrified by the threat. "She carries your grandchild."

Apollo had seized him by the throat and shoved him back against the wall. "You test me again, boy, and I'll have you womanized and serving in Artemis's temple alongside Satara and the rest of her pasty maids." He'd flung Stryker into the opposite wall. "Come dawn if you're still here, you will watch her brutalized until she dies."

Tears had filled his eyes as he looked up at his father, his heart breaking. "Why would you do this to me?"

"You are my legacy. Through you, I will overthrow Zeus and rule this putrid world. It's time you grew up and were the man you were supposed to be. Disappoint me in this and, so help me, I really will turn you into a woman, and you can share in your little wife's fate if you disobey me again."

Apollo vanished.

Stryker slid to the floor as he looked around the room where, for the briefest of times, he'd been truly happy. It was the only time in his life that he'd felt loved or wanted. Not as someone else's destiny, but for himself.

He sobbed like he'd never done before. He knew he had no choice but to obey. How could anyone run from a god? Apollo wouldn't be denied, and he would take pleasure in making them suffer for defying him.

"I won't let them hurt you, Phyra," Stryker whispered as he forced himself to stand. His heart breaking, he gathered a few items. The green hair ribbon she'd worn at their wedding. The tile of her in her wedding dress and a small vial of her perfume. He paused at her vanity table where she sat every night and morning, preparing herself for bed and for the day.

All he'd wanted was to put his head in her lap and have her brush her fingers through his hair and tell him everything would be all right. That she would be safe.

But it wasn't meant to be.

Tonight he was going to ruin her and he knew it.

Wanting to die over it, he placed his items in a small purse that he secured to his belt. I should leave before she returns.

No, he couldn't do that to her. In spite of what his father thought, he wasn't a coward. He couldn't leave her without some explanation. Leave her to wonder why he hadn't come home or where he'd gone. To think him dead or worse, to watch for his return while he knew she'd never see him again. She deserved to hear the truth from him.

Drawing a ragged breath, he sat down and waited for her to return.

The moment she did, she took his breath away. Frail and petite, she was more beautiful than even Aphrodite. Her green eyes had flashed in the dim light while she moved to light more lamps.

Her smile bright, it had made him instantly sad at the knowledge that he would never again see anything so spectacular. "Why are you sitting here in the darkness?"

He'd cleared his throat, but the hard lump in his stomach had merely drawn tighter. "I have something I need to speak to you about."

She set her parcels on the table. "As do I. I—"

"No, please, let me speak."

Frowning, she'd frozen in place. "I don't like your tone, Strykerius."

She'd never liked to hear sternness in his voice. It was why he'd tried so hard to never show her that side of himself. "I know, but what I have to say can't wait."

She'd flounced to stand by his side and smooth the scowl on his face with her delicate fingers. "You look so serious."

His tongue had felt so thick in his mouth that he feared it would choke him. All he wanted was to pull her into his arms and hold her forever.

Instead he was going to break both their hearts.

It has to be done. An image of her being attacked tore through him with a ferocity so raw it made him flinch. He had no doubt his father would carry out that threat.

Taking a deep breath for courage, he forced himself to speak. "I'm leaving."

"That's fine, akribos. When will you be back?"

He placed his hands on her upper arms to steady himself. "I won't be back. Ever."

The light had gone out of her eyes and struck him like a fist in his gullet. "What?"

"My father has a wedding for me planned tomorrow. If I don't leave and divorce you tonight, he'll kill you and the baby."

Rage had twisted her beautiful features into the mask of a gorgon. "What!" she roared. She shoved him away from her.

He'd reached out toward her. "I'm sorry, Phyra. I have no choice."

She'd slapped his touch away. "Yes, you do. We all have choices."

"No, we don't. I won't stay here and watch you die."

She sneered as she raked him with a repugnant curl of her lips. "You're a worthless coward."

That had set his own anger off. "No, I'm not."

She slapped him hard across the face. "You're right. Being a coward would be a step up for you."

Stryker had stood there, his cheek stinging as she railed against him. He couldn't even really hear all the insults. Only the words "pathetic," "worthless," and "coward" rang in his ears over and over again.

"I'm doing this to protect you and the baby. I'll make sure you're both taken care of."

"There is no baby," she spat at him. "I miscarried it."

He staggered back. "When?"

"This morning."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I just did. So don't worry about it. There's no baby in need of a coward for a father."

"I'm not a coward!"

She shoved him again. "Get out of my sight, you pathetic excuse for a man. I don't want you here. Gods, I can't believe I was stupid enough to let you into my bed. Stupid enough to trust you."

"I love you, Phyra."

She'd grabbed a bowl from the table and flung it at his head. "Liar! You disgust me!" She'd literally beat him out of the door and then slammed it shut in his face. But not before she hurled her wedding ring at him.

Stryker had stood on the other side as he listened to her breaking and throwing things inside. He splayed his hand against the wood, wanting desperately to open the door. But why bother? She hated him now.

But not nearly as much as he hated himself.

"At least you'll be safe." He'd left her plenty of money. "And if you hate me, at least you won't miss me." He let his tears fall as he leaned his head against the door and clutched at the knob, desperate to open it and return to her.

If only he could.

He took her tile from his purse and looked at her face before he gave it one last kiss, then turned and walked away.

Zephyra gasped as Stryker pulled out of her mind and left her with the lasting image of him clutching her tile in his hand as he turned and left their cottage.

She narrowed her gaze on him. "Your father was going to have me raped?"

"It's what he said. I had no reason to think he was joking."

Her anger vanished under a wave of astonishment. "You were protecting me."

"It's what I've been trying to get through to you. Why else would I have left you when you were the very thing I lived for?"

Angry at the world, she kneed him in the side.

"Ow!" he snapped. "What was that for?"

"For being such an asshole. You ever keep a secret from me like that again and I swear I'll gut you over it."

"You were fourteen," he said defensively. "I thought if I told you what my father threatened, you'd be terrified."

He was right. Especially given the fact that she'd been attacked before him. That was why she'd loved him so much. He'd kept her safe, and it was why she'd hated him for leaving. Fear of being on her own, of not being able to protect herself or Medea . . .

That was also why she had merged with the gallu. She'd wanted the strength to protect her daughter. To make sure no man ever forced himself on her.

Still angry, she slapped at his chest. "I could beat you senseless."

One side of his mouth quirked up. "I told you to feel free so long as you did it naked. Like this, I'm at your mercy."

Zephyra's cheeks colored as she became aware of the fact that she was straddling him. How could she have forgotten that?

His gaze darkened. She took in his entire naked body. He was ripped and gorgeous. Absolute perfection.

And he'd proclaimed himself at her mercy. Leaning forward, she breathed in his ear, "You are insufferable."

Stryker sucked his breath in sharply as she tongued his lobe, sending chills over him. Her actions were so tender and loving while she continued to insult him. He couldn't help but laugh.

"You find me funny?"

"I find you delectable." He moved to suckle her breast. "Wonderful and delicious."

She sucked her breath in sharply. "You're a sick man to love a woman who hates you."

"If I am, then I want no cure."

She shook her head at his teasing tone. "What am I going to do with you?"

"Just hold me. Let me love you the way I should have all along."

She moaned as he drove himself deep inside her body with one full, hard thrust. Gods, how good he felt. In his arms, it was hard to remember why she was supposed to hate him.

Maybe because she didn't really hate him after all. As he'd said, they were soul mates. Partners. Without him, she'd been incomplete, and now that she had him back . . .

It was wonderful.

And as he slowly made love to her, she realized that she was standing at the same crossroads where he'd been the night his father had demanded he leave.

She knew where the one path led. It was desolate loneliness spent in bitterness over the past.

The other was even more terrifying. For that road meant that she'd have to trust in him again. That she'd have to allow him back into the place where only he could do her harm.

Dare she chance it?

Looking down at him as he took her hand into his and laid her palm against his cheek, she knew the answer.

She didn't want to live without him.

Her heart pounding, she locked herself around him and rolled over until he was on top of her.

Stryker frowned slightly as he sensed a change in her. A softening in her touch as she dragged her nails down his spine. That gentleness combined with the sight of her under him was enough to push him over the edge. He had to fight to restrain himself and wait for her.

But when she came, she screamed out his name, and in that one instant he knew he would kill or die for this woman. She alone held that power over him. Joining her release, he growled in satisfaction as his body spasmed.

Collapsing against her, he held her tight. "I love you, Phyra," he whispered in her ear.

Then, in the lowest of tones, he heard the words that meant the most to him. "I love you, too."

MENYARA PAUSED AS SHE FELT ULTIMATE power behind her. It rippled in the air and made the hair on the back of her neck rise. "Why are you skulking about, Jared?"

He materialized before her. "I'm not skulking."

"Whatever you say, child. Whatever you say."

Stepping back, he narrowed his gaze on her. "Why are you protecting the Malachai?"

She ignored his question. There was no need to go there with him, not when she knew what was really on his mind. "I know the sorrow inside you and I know why it is you did what you did. But in spite of what you think, the death of the Malachai won't give you solace. It won't take away the torment or the guilt that weighs on your conscience."

He curled his lips at her. "Stop with the mojo bullshit. I'm not one of your neophyte disciples training for war. I'm a veteran of the apocalypse. I've been on both sides of hell and am sick of the shit. I want his life and I won't be denied. Surely to the Source I've earned some kind of respite after all these centuries of abuse."

She shook her head. "The Source isn't appeased even now. The only way to have the Malachai is through me."

Jared summoned his powers into a typhoon around him. The force of them swirled, lifting his hair up to fan around him as his wings spread wide and his eyes glowed a bright gold. "Then I will have your life."

Menyara brought her hands up to catch the blast he sent toward her and return it with one of her own. "You're not a Chthonian and I'm not about to let you have him."

She heard a sharp laugh behind her.

"You can't destroy her, Sephiroth. But I have no such restrictions."

Turning, she saw War smirking at her. "What are you doing here?"

"Making a deal with the dev il."

Menyara started to leave, but before she could, a loud boom echoed in her ears an instant before everything went black.