Free Bloodlust by Nicole Zoltack Page A

someone who had not killed someone else? Lukor suppressed a snort but could not help feeling pleased he had humbled her. Maybe even that he had helped her too. But only because he needed her to ensure his plan of dual-race war against the barbarians. No other reason. "Think not of it," he finally said, his tone a little sardonic, with a trace of sincerity.
    They marched on for an hour before Lukor insisted they rest.
    "If not for your sake, then for mine." Even his body needed sleep to refuel. Few goliaths could outlast him. His endurance, his strength — Lucia had compared him to a barbarian during their youth. She'd meant it as a compliment. How naive she had been then. Never outgrew it. Running off to explore constantly. Their mother had always feared it would be the end of her. And it had.
    Not bothering to see if the barbarian stopped, Lukor rested his head on top of a holly maple's root and closed his eyes. Visions of his sister's bloodied body haunted him in his dreams. Only when he rolled her over, he saw Ivy's ashen face. A harsh sorrow filled him at the sight — not the giddy happiness he expected. Ivy clutched a white cloth with a ring of dead roses surrounding a skull embroidered upon it. The trolls' emblem.
    A sound behind him forced Lukor to whirl around. Without thought, he launched his axe into the air. Double blades over handle, it twirled and landed within Ivy's killer.
    Only the axe embedded itself into Lucia. A shocked expression crossed her face. Blood trickled out of the corner of her lips. Swaying on her feet, she collapsed, falling on top of Ivy, even though she'd been feet away from the dead barbarian a moment prior.
    Lukor opened his mouth to let out a fierce bellow. A vulture flew out of his mouth and encircled the dead women. It cawed, its eyes glowing, daunting Lukor, but he ignored the bird and sank beside his sister and Ivy.
    "I'm so sorry," he murmured over and over until his voice failed him.
    His sister's body rolled toward him. At first he thought she still lived, but it was Ivy who opened her eyes. Her hand touched his cheek. His heart raced. She leaned closer. He did not back away.
    "Lukor. Lukor!"
    He opened his eyes and woke up with a start. His cheek was stinging. Ivy's hand was raised.
    "Did you smack me?" His hand reached for his knife.
    "You were screaming." She crossed her arms and moved her head with attitude. "Mares of the night plaguing you?"
    "Leave me be." He closed his eyes again and returned to slumber. This time, he dreamt of nothing important and woke strangely cold, as if missing something.

    Sleep eluded Ivy for a long time. Eventually slumber did greet her, but only after she'd woken Lukor to stop his thrashing about. His wails had pierced her heart. Something vicious was attacking him. No wonder she couldn't rest with him being so loud.
    But that had not been the only reason why she had waken him. For one, the slap had been quite satisfying, only she had felt strangely guilty over it. Not that he hadn't deserved it for leaving her to the souls within the Realm. For another, she knew what it was like to be tormented by nightmares. A foreign emotion swept over her. Empathy? What a horrid feeling.
    Grayness all around her, the pain returned. She woke with a gasp and promptly fell back asleep. This time, she remembered none of the dream, but her stomach pained her. Lukor still slept as she armed herself, intent on finding herself a large meal. Before she could determine which direction to take, a falcor soared through the sky. The female bird landed on her outstretched hand.
    "Have you a message for me?" she whispered as she plucked at the bird's long, blue-green feathers. Unlike the ruthless trolls, barbarians did not force their messages inside a bird's stomach, ensuring its death upon reaching its intended person. Barbarians, instead, bent the firm feathers this way and that to deliver their message.
    From Angar. Wanting to know where she was, if she was all right.
    As