“She can’t have everything. I won’t allow that. She will suffer as I have suffered,” Tajia said hate reflected in her eyes. A shadow grew beside her. With every growth spurt it took shape. A man with dark skin, broad shoulders and an imposing demeanour stood before Dage. He wore a knee length leather tunic that was reinforced with bronze plates on the chest and shoulders. A crude yet lethal sickle sword was strapped to his side.
A hush fell on the battle field. Nobody moved.
Dage recognised the demon he had become. The Kkwambs. It had no notable weakness, and no one dared fight it in fear of being turned into one. Zaya’s words echoed in his mind.
“Dage?” Wyllem called from a distance away.
“I know. He’s Zaya’s brother. The king of Kemet.”
At the mention of her name, Sai seemed to
