05-30-2020, 06:15 PM
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He made it not two steps before the immensity of the power drawn through him snapped. The recoil slammed him to the ground. And the searing torture of the ijiraq’s drainage eased as suddenly.
Unlike the fucking Ascendancy, who was spent to his knees by the Ijiraq, quivering and useless, Ryker clawed through the pain. He walked through hellfire once more, came away with a mangled web of scars for it, but he was strong. He put one foot in front of the other, heavy monster digging inward. His back curled over, hands holding his abdomen. The fight with Oriena left him fatigued, but the pulse of adrenaline animated a skeleton unwilling to buckle. He would not bend a knee! Not to this creature. Not to Ascendancy. And not before any woman. If he died, it would be on his fucking feet. And today was not the day he died.
His head spun, but the power was slippery and gone even if he had the will to bend it to his needs. The knife would not help him now. The Ijiraq snarled at the prey denied it, hovering a meter above his head, darting and diving back to reclaim its bounty. Ryker roared back at it, a hellish war cry that made the Ijiraq phase in and out. If they knew fear, this was it. It fled into the sky then, seeking easier meat.
The beacon of power drew Ryker toward Ivan and Mik. Of the men, only he bore witness to the ijiraq’s infiltration of the Ascendancy’s ball. “Freeze it with water and air.” He yelled into the distance, attempting to snatch Mik’s attention. “And shatter the mother fucker with the swing of a hardened air,” he motioned the arc of a bat before grabbing his abdomen and stumbling in his own weak rush closer. He’d help, if he could, not only to free Ivan, but to wield revenge upon the beasts by any means.