Page 104 of Obsidian Dream
The grass around her darkened as the vines behind her thickened.She jumped forward, away from the building.
A rich deep laughter, hypnotic and sensual, surrounded her.This wasn’t Sidra.No, it was much older, belonging to a being that oozed power.The birds grew louder as the ground vibrated.Cracks spread across the footbridge, and the hapless humans were frozen in time, unaware of their surroundings.
Fuck.
To the left of her, in the near distance, a pale linen skirt danced in the subtle breeze.Gold sandals jingled as the woman—no, god—walked across the field.Shimmering, glitter-like flakes trailed behind her.Even at this distance, Khalida was entranced, instinctively wanting to bow.She shoved the thought away.
Ninhursag must be trying to manipulate them into doing her bidding.She gritted her teeth, refusing to give in to the silent demands.The hilts of her swords bit into her flesh.She used the pain to focus on the present and why she was there.Khalida’s vision dimmed as she slowly rocked back onto her heels.Sucking in a breath, Khalida steeled herself.She knew better than most that plans rarely survived their first contact with the enemy—and she was nothing but adaptable.Ninhursag knew they were there on Palatine Hill, but the god hadn’t outright attacked them—yet.Ninhursag must not see them as a threat.The assumption could work in Khalida’s favor.
In front of the god, the ground grew greener and more wildflowers sprang up until they outnumbered the blades of grass.But behind Ninhursag was a trail of destruction.The beautiful flowers shriveled and turned to ash, leaving brown earth behind her.
The god stopped, her pitch-black hair floating in the breeze, reminding Khalida of snakes.Just like the tattoos on her arms.One snake moved, its pink tongue tasting the air.
Khalida pulled back, not quite believing what she had seen.But she should not have been surprised.Of course Ninhursag’s tattoos were alive.Why wouldn’t they be?She forced herself to return to her original position, ensuring that she was still half hidden.Ninhursag was powerful enough to know exactly where she was, but like every other narcissistic aristocrat Khalida had interacted with, they all loved to perform, and for that, they needed an audience.
Ninhursag snapped her fingers.
Silence surrounded them as the humans collapsed eerily and silently to the ground, landing on top of each other.
Khalida stood, shaking with fury and shock at the sight before she dragged her gaze back to the god.
Reptilian green eyes, those belonging to a snake, stared back at her.Ninhursag kissed the air before she turned and continued to walk toward the center of the ruins.The damned god wanted the Atlanteans to be a witness to the chaos she was about to unleash.
Khalida’s heart raced, harder and louder than she had ever felt it before.Her throat suddenly dry, she slowly released the death grip she had on the hilts.The worn leather straps were imprinted on her flesh.
She wasn’t afraid to die.Not if it meant that Atlanteans and humans had a chance of surviving.A part of her hesitated—if she died, Talik died.And she couldn’t do that to him.Not when it wasn’t his choice.Glancing at her wrist, she froze.The consort mark had stopped throbbing, and the edges had faded.
Where the fuck was Talik?
More importantly, what had he done?
Chapter Forty-Six
TALIK
Talik stared at theconsort mark as it slowly disappeared—the mark that had been a part of him for centuries, and now it was only a memory.He rubbed at it, tracing the familiar pattern on unmarked skin.The absence hit him harder than he had thought possible, pulling at parts of him he had assumed had shriveled and died a long time ago.
