Warriors of Akania Read online

  Warriors of Akania

  The Light Bringer, Book 3

  Jake Stone

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Epilogue

  Afterword

  Chapter One

  With a devilish grin, the unholy priestess Karla Demerus hands me a glass of wine laced with poison and urges me to drink.

  “It’s the klafka,” she explains, “the ritual beverage required to prove one’s loyalty.”

  “Loyalty?” I arch a brow at her. “Can’t I just sign a contract or something? Maybe trade a piece of clothing? You know, like a pair of socks?”

  She glares at me in annoyance. “Trust isn’t something easily given. But worry not, the klafka’s potency is lacking. It still requires one other ingredient for it to become lethal.”

  “Well that’s a relief.”

  I stare at the priestess, mesmerized by her beauty. She’s clever in her seduction, masking her cruel intentions behind a breathtaking smile and a pair of dark eyes that promises a night of mind-blowing sex.

  But I’m no idiot. One swig of this, and I’ll probably end up dead, or infected with some type of contagion that’ll shrink my nuts into raisins.

  But what can I do?

  I need to prove my commitment. I have to earn her trust. Without it, I won’t be able to obtain the information Alvarium sent me to retrieve. I have to stall.

  I take in my surroundings with a sweeping glance, noticing the high tapestried ceiling and gold molding outlining the edges.

  “Nice place,” I say. “Bet the rent’s a bitch.”

  “I manage,” she says with a knowing grin.

  The room had been the personal quarters of the arch governor, the home where he and his loving wife and young children lived within the famed Astary Palace here on Sartana. That is before it was overrun by the crazed hellions and deranged kasters, who devoured anyone and everything they could find.

  Now the palace is nothing but a base of operations, a perch from where the dark priestess can oversee the destruction of this planet while enjoying a glass of wine.

  I glance out the balcony at the withered landscape of grey plains and burnt forests, saddened by what Zendal has done to this world. It always occurs like this; the smoke-filled skies, the wailing of humans, the thrashing of whips. It never changes.

  Too many times I’ve seen the aftermath, too many times I’ve witnessed the destruction of darkness. Yet, in all the times that I’ve landed on these war-torn worlds, I’ve never had to endure its demise from the start.

  And the sight of it is heartbreaking ….

  I watch as naked women are herded into the frightening portals turning in the distance. I hear their cries as they’re whisked away into the Dark Horizon, where they’ll be shackled by cruel hellions and forced to become the pleasure slaves of the demon elite, who’ll no doubt use them to indulge in their darkest desires.

  Poor souls.

  “Is something wrong?” Karla notices my discontent, and I see her dark eyes peering up at me in confusion.

  “Just marveling at how badly you guys fucked up this place.”

  “It’s impressive, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, a real hoot.”

  She laughs, drawing my attention. Her purple dress is cut low along the front, proudly displaying the ample bosom that draws my attention every time I look at her.

  With long black hair and a pale complexion, her beauty is a paradox, a stark representation of the dualities that swim in her ancient soul. One moment sweet, the next moment savage, she’s a storm of emotions, that’s easily provoked.

  Still, she’s dangerous with her charm. Even with the simplest of actions—a knowing smile, a gentle whisper—she can break the hardest of shells, driving a man insane with lust and filling him with dreams of possessing her.

  But she could never be possessed.

  And I’m not like other men.

  I’m something else—an unlucky asshole who was thrust across the universe after his father’s hadron collider malfunctioned. Since then, I’ve nearly been eaten by mutants, killed by slavers, slaughtered by demons and entranced by an ancient witch who wanted nothing more than to sacrifice my friends for our love. Crazy times, bro. Crazy times ….

  But that wasn’t the worst of it. The worst part was losing my best friend, Rachel—the coolest person I ever knew and the only person to ever give up their life for me. Now, she’s somewhere in hell, waiting for me to rescue her.

  It was for this very reason that I became a Battle Saint—a genetically enhanced soldier trained in the art of combat. It doesn’t hurt that I’m the supposed savior of the galaxy, either, the foretold messiah that is armed with the Holy Light of the corfew.

  Now, I can draw upon its power to repel the forces of evil. Now, we have a weapon to use against Zendal and his creatures. The hitch is that it only comes when someone other than myself is at stake. Bum deal, I know. Still, it’s enough to shield me from Karla’s charm and beauty, which is something I’m really struggling to do right now.

  “Drink it,” she whispers, resting her hands on my arms. “It’ll calm your nerves.”

  “And take my life in the process,” I say.

  She snorts. “Life is overrated. It’s not until you touch death that you truly know what living is.”

  “And you know this personally?”

  She deflects the question with a smile, unwilling to concede even the tiniest bit. But I know the truth of it. She’s an evil creature, a selfish animal who would never risk her own life for anything.

  Sensing my reluctance, she whirls away in frustration, forcing me to watch as she marches through the illustrious bedroom chamber that now keeps me prisoner.

  The train of her dress slides along the marble floor as she makes her way to the mirror on the other side of the room. She examines herself closely, running a hand over her slim waist and curvy hips, completely ignoring the pair of black-hooded women kneeling on the floor next to her.

  Sisters of Sin—gorgeous young initiates pulled from the ranks of elite families and trained in the arts of deviant sex. No doubt Zendal will award them to his favorites, allowing the demon filth to explore whatever deranged sex act with the poor women.

  Karla watches me through the mirror as if willing my mind to look at her. Everything about her is inviting. Yet, I’m no fool. As enticing as she appears, I only have to look at the faces of the zombified guards standing outside this door to know that it’s not worth it.

  As a mistress of necromancy, she’s no stranger to death. But her true passion lies with zombies, specifically those that she can keep around as pleasure toys.

  According to the scrolls at the monastery, she’s at least a thousand years old, not bad considering that she has the complexion of a porcelain doll and the br
easts of an eighteen-year-old. Still, she’s a decrepit soul, one who has indulged in the pleasures of the flesh for centuries. It’s no surprise that she’s into some kinky shit. Problem is: I didn’t know how bad it was.

  “You don’t trust me, do you?” she asks with a grin.

  “Lady, that’s an understatement.”

  She sighs. “May I remind you that it was your superior who wanted this meeting?”

  “In the hopes that we could establish a beneficial relationship,” I say, “This meeting was merely a chance to dip my toe in the water.”

  “Well,” she says, turning around to look at me. “Now you’re at the edge of the lake. What will you do?”

  “Check the temperature?”

  She snorts, turning back to the mirror. “Men; always scared of commitment. Did you really think you could come into this world and leave unscathed?”

  “Unscathed? No,” I shake my head. “With my mind still intact? Yes.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Those men outside my door were mere Republic soldiers.” She rises to her feet and sashays toward me. “You, on the other hand …” She grabs my cock with a tight fist, slowly relaxing her grip as she whispers into my ear. “You’re a Battle Saint. A genetic specimen lost to our magic users. You’ll be fine.”

  “And if I’m not?”

  She grins. “I already told you. The klafka is completely harmless. The worst you’ll feel is a slight headache. It can only kill your mind if it’s combined with a special ingredient that I clearly don’t have.”

  “How do I know I can trust you?”

  “You can’t.” Her eyes widen with excitement. “But that’s the thrill of it, isn’t it? Not knowing. Wondering if I’m telling you the truth or not?”

  Her words are confusing—but effective—and I’m suddenly wondering if I’m overthinking the matter. Is this really just a test? Can her concerns truly be satisfied with a symbolic gesture as simple as drinking wine from a cup?

  The risk is great. But I need to earn her trust; I need the information she has. Breaking into her network of spies could help the Republic better than any army. But am I brave enough to face death?

  She notices my apprehension. “You know, when I’d learned that Xander Cross, the holy warrior who refused the great witch of Korath and vanquished Bantha through sheer will, was here to see me, I had the messenger’s throat slit out of distrust. But now that I see you standing before me …” Her gaze runs the length of my body. “I can’t believe my good fortune.”

  Rumors of my success have spread throughout the Republic, and with it, they’ve found their way to the ears of Zendal’s followers. “My compliments to your spies,” I say.

  “Perhaps one day, I shall tell you the extent to which we’ve corrupted your infrastructure.” She traces a circle over my heart with one of her nails. “That is if you decide to stay.”

  “That depends on you.”

  “How so?”

  “Tell me the coordinates of the portals’ destinations, reveal Zendal’s next target, gift me the name of a spy. And in return …” I glance once more at the destroyed world outside. “My general is willing to turn a blind eye to your most recent conquests.”

  Karla pulls away, annoyed with my desperation. “Demands and deals. You know, sometimes I think the Republic is more treacherous than Zendal.

  You and me both. “Look,” I say, holding out my had to her. “Come back. I’m sorry.”

  The unholy priestess, now pouting, arches a suspicious brow at me. “I’m not in the mood anymore.” She gazes at the backs of her nails, no differently than a spoiled housewife angry at her husband. “I’m mad at you.”

  “You wouldn’t be the first.” I cross the marble floor and take her in my arms. Her body is firm, curvaceous, and I feel my cock already stirring. “Look, I get a little nervous when I’m gonna drink something new. One time, my buddy Ryan tricked me into drinking something called a Four Loko. I’m still dealing with the flashbacks.”

  “Which is why I wanted you to drink the wine in the first place,” she says, hitting me in the chest with a playful punch. She nods at the glass on the nightstand. “Do it now, before I lose my desire.”

  “Then will you give me what I need?”

  She runs a thumb across my lips. “Most assuredly.”

  I don’t believe her. But what choice do I have? I’m unarmed and locked away in her private bedroom with a host of armed zombies outside her door ready to kill me. I have to do this, and I have to do this now.

  She hands me the cup, and I feel my heart begin to race. “With a simple sip, pleasure is sure to follow,” she says.

  “And usually a night in the emergency room.”

  “I don’t understand,” she says.

  “I wouldn’t expect you to.”

  The cup weighs less than a couple of ounces, but it’s one of the heaviest things I’ve ever held. I hold it still, breathing in its scent, startled by the sweetness concealing the deadly poison swimming beneath.

  “Drink it.” Her voice yanks me from my concentration, and I’m suddenly staring into her face, strangely mesmerized by the coldness of her beauty, even as she prods me over a cliff with a knife at my back. “Do it now!”

  “Okay, okay, relax.”

  The wine slips past my lips, filling my mouth with notes of saccharine. It’s a hollow taste, one that lingers on my tongue. Karla takes the cup from my hand and rests it on the nightstand below, keeping her gaze fixed on me.

  The sensation is instant. Warm and smooth, it slides over my body like a thick blanket, and I feel the tips of my fingers begin to tingle as if being stroked by a cozy fire. Everything around me starts to fade. The air shimmers. The lamps sway. And I feel myself begin to go.

  “I told you, you'd like it.” Her lips whisper in my ear.

  My demise is a thrill for her, and she quickly steers me to the bed, giving me a shove where I plop onto the satin sheets that are scented with perfume. Stripping me of my bodysuit and straddling me with her legs, she peers into my face, eyes searching. “Tell me me what it feels like?”

  Not as bad as the Four Loko. “You don’t know?”

  “The experience is different for all of us.”

  I blink, struggling against the murky blur of my mind. “It’s strange,” I say, “everything feels numb, like I’m drifting on a cloud of gel, but I can also feel the world around me with such … acuteness.”

  I shudder as she runs her tongue along the length of my neck, reaching up to the side of my head, where she burrows it so deliciously in my ear that I nearly climax. Breath hitching, stomach rising, the word, “Yes!” bursts from my mouth.

  Pleased with my helplessness, she slips out of her dress, letting the sheen fabric slip past her shoulders and allowing me to see those magnificent breasts I’ve been thinking about since I got here. Large and supple, nipples soft and pink, their perfection could have only been created by some perverted wizard.

  She grinds her pussy against my cock, smothering it under long and slow strokes. The feeling of it is maddening. But I can’t pull myself to stop her. In fact, if anything, I want more.

  She peers down at me like an amused queen. “Do you like that?”

  “Yes,” I breathe out.

  “Good.” She picks up the pace, driving me into a state of delirium. I reach up and cup her breasts, my fingers playing with her nipples.

  “Tell me.” She clutches my forearms. “Tell me what you feel.”

  “Your skin … it’s like velvet.”

  “No.” She slaps me across the face. The pain is shocking, yet, as impossible as it is to explain, its sensation is stimulating. “Tell me what you see. Tell me what death feels like.”

  I close my eyes, delving deeper into the warm bath that threatens to drown me by the second. The world begins to darken, and my body starts to twitch. But it’s suddenly interrupted by flashes of light that spark from the recesses of my mind. It brightens my view and calms my body, as if the energy of my s
oul is trying to reignite itself, as if it’s protecting me from falling any deeper.

  “Let go,” she urges in a whisper. “Fall freely and indulge in the pleasure.”

  I take in a deep breath, shuddering as I feel her hands reaching into my pants. Her breath is light on my lips, and her finger is circling the tip of my cock. With every passing moment, with every stroke, I feel myself drifting away, falling and falling until I realized what’s happening.

  So this was the missing ingredient? The one still needed to activate the klafka, how she zombifies the men. She drives them insane with lust until their minds and bodies are nothing but empty husks.

  Drawing upon my strength, I do my best to resist the sensation. But the light of the corfew eludes me, refusing my summons.

  “Stop resisting,” she tells me.

  “But you’re changing me.”

  “Only for the better.”

  “Says you.” I throw my head back as she guides my cock into her pussy, sinking it deeper and deeper until she’s wrapped herself firmly around it.

  Holding still, I relax under the weight of her body, the grinding force of her thrusts, the painful yet thrilling feel of her wet slit sliding against my cock. It’s strange—the closer I edge toward heaven, the farther I fall into hell.

  “You’re stronger than the others,” she says with a pleased sneer. “You may well prove to be my favorite yet. Perhaps, I must increase your pleasure.”

  She rests her hands on my chest and begins to ride my cock faster, hopping up and down, her ass slapping against my thighs as she works to draw me to climax.

  There’s no way out of this. I’m going to die here, or at least, lose my mind. The most I can hope for now is to have the best orgasm of my life.