Pure Destiny (PureDark Ones #12) - Aja James Page 0,2
felt softer than silk but had the tensile strength of steel cables.
Sophia lifted her head slightly to check his bindings.
Nothing had changed. He was still secured to the thinly-cushioned metal flat bed in Rain’s healing enclosure by his ankles, calves, thighs, wrists, forearms and biceps. The table itself was welded into the concrete floor, overlaid by white marble. It had been free-standing before.
The Elite warriors had taken precautions after bringing back the turned and severely wounded Paladin thirty-six hours ago. No one knew the magnitude of his strength, or if he had any new Gifts besides the ones he was reborn with—hyper senses. They just knew that he’d been experimented on and amped up by their nemeses; they underestimated him at their own peril.
He was one of the enemy now. If he were conscious, he’d do everything in his power to wreak havoc upon the Shield. They’d take him down by force if required.
Sophia’s breath hitched at the thought.
Even now, despite the illusion of peacefulness in the tranquil healing chamber, where she and Dalair were the only two occupants, Chevaliers, the Pure and human soldiers that defended the Balance under the Royal Zodiac’s leadership, kept strict watch on this chamber through infrared video feeds.
Sophia had argued fiercely with Valerius and Tristan just to shut off the full visual displays. She wanted Dalair to have some privacy. He was not the enemy. He was not a prisoner of war.
Even though he was, she admitted to herself.
It was simply the truth. Even when they kept Erebu here, in the beginning, he was watched constantly. Though he was a lot less threatening than Dalair. Erebu’s mind was his most dangerous weapon, while Dalair was a full-blooded, ruthlessly deadly warrior commanded and controlled by Medusa. He was the weapon.
But it’s different, Sophia’s heart insisted.
Erebu had been Medusa’s Creature. Dalair had been one of them. He was the Paladin of the Pure Ones. He’d fought alongside them, lived with them, was a member of their family for so many years, long before Sophia joined their fold.
In fact, it was Dalair who brought her to the Pure Ones as a human baby in this incarnation. And it was Dalair who changed the course of her destiny back in ancient Persia, during one of her previous incarnations. She’d taken one look at him, and Fell.
Dalair had always been her beginning and her end. And everything in between.
Sophia’s eyes roved efficiently over his body, naked but for a small towel over his groin.
His normally golden-bronze skin had a grayish undertone from blood loss. The dozen or so stab wounds all over his torso had closed, but even his magnified healing powers as a Pure One and the additional strength he’d acquired from their enemies’ experiments couldn’t regenerate his badly ruptured internal organs quickly enough. Not yet, anyway.
Since he’d been secured to this table, he hadn’t twitched so much as a hair. His lips held a bluish tinge, and he barely seemed to breathe.
Sophia had to remind herself often that Immortals could not keep their corporeal form if they died. Pure Ones turned to stardust, and Dark Ones turned to ashes.
Dalair was still alive, though he certainly didn’t look it. He looked like a human corpse.
A jacked up human corpse. Because his muscles remained locked even in repose, the veins in his arms, hands and neck raised like tree roots across the rugged terrain of his warrior’s body. It was a physical reminder that even weakened and close to death as he was now, he could not be underestimated.
He was a mindless killing machine.
Sophia laid her head back down and curled on her side next to Dalair on the uncomfortable table.
This was her post, and she never left it. Only to relieve bodily functions in the en-suite bathroom, but barely eating and drinking.
If Dalair wasn’t strong enough to eat and drink, then she wouldn’t either.
The Dozen tried to convince her otherwise, but she pointed out dispassionately that this was much better than the alternative:
For her strength to fuel her wrath and turn her into the Destroyer.
She’d been this close to succumbing to the Darkness when they first brought Dalair in. Her gladness and relief upon seeing him with the Elite quickly turned to despair and fury when she comprehended his near-death condition.
Her brown eyes had faded to black almost instantly, glowing blood red at the centers. Every vein appeared black and blue beneath her paper-white skin, and her Pure female fangs had punched through her upper gums like daggers.