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Trial For The Shadow King (Captive 0f Shadows Book 2) Page 13
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“That’s wise. I’ll keep you informed. It won’t be long until we find and reach Archech,” Willem says.
Archech? My brows furrow. Am I the stupid pest? I chew on my bottom lip as the conversation changes to something more mundane. I glance up at the stairs, to where Kane is resting above. Should I tell him? I wonder if I’m being paranoid. I don’t trust Willem and Aiden from my own experiences with them. And I already know Aiden wants Kane dead. Fear and apprehension twist in my gut and my heart hammers nervously. All I know is I can’t hide in this corner for long. The last thing I want is for Aiden and Willem to be suspicious of me. Perhaps it’s best they think I’m a pest. It makes me safe. I hope.
“Kane is fine,” I announce, striding around the corner. “His jaw looks fully healed, except for some bruising.”
“That’s great.” Aiden downs his ale. “I can’t wait to get out of this hell hole. I think after this I’ll need a vacation.”
“By all means, don’t let us stop you,” Willem drawls.
I sit gingerly, unable to calm my pounding heart. It will be fine, I tell myself as the two supernatural creatures study me. “I’m looking forward to returning as well,” I say, fingers twisting in my lap. “I’ve missed my old clothes and regular baths.”
Aiden lifts his eyes towards Willem as if to say, ‘I told you so.’ “Don’t worry, Briar, now that Kane has solved the Nephilim business, it will be sunshine and roses for the rest of your life,” Aiden says teasingly.
“If only that were true,” I mumble.
I fall silent as Willem and Aiden debate back and forth about the most attractive women in the room. My father was a planner. He liked to strategize about ways to outsmart his opponents. When I was young, he used to let me sit with him while he talked aloud to himself. Once, he gave me excellent advice. I’ve employed it all my life, even with him. He told me it was best if people have low expectations of me. He said I would never disappoint anyone that way. But more importantly, people are sloppy around those they deem unworthy.
My eyes dart back and forth between Willem and Aiden. They never thought anything of me from the beginning, but I don’t need them to. From now on, my eyes and ears will be open all the time. Information is power, and in a place like the Underworld, where I’m severely outmatched, I need all the power I can get.
Chapter 19
Kane
Behind the Diamond in an empty alley, I wait for Willem to emerge out the back door. My arm is still in the sling, and my jaw aches when I speak or eat, but I'm grateful it's still attached. Briar waits beside me, wrapped tightly in her cloak. Fall is descending on Verstad, and it won't be long until the first frost. I look up at the cloudy gray sky and loose a long breath. I never took myself for a homebody, but perhaps I was wrong. Or perhaps the frustrating experiences of the mortal realm have simply strengthened the sheen of my rosy glasses.
“Will you be alright?” Briar asks quietly.
I glance down at her, studying her in a new light. Her doe-like eyes are filled with concern, long lashes fluttering. She frowns, and I can think of nothing other than the softness of her lips. “I’ll be fine,” I say, warmth filling my chest. I tamp it down with my icy nature, trying to school myself. I need to control myself now that I know I have exactly what I need, and she is so completely tempting. “The weight of the magic shouldn’t be too extreme.”
“We can always stay another night,” she says. “There’s no rush.”
I smile. She may not think there's a rush, and in truth, there isn't. But I'm too eager to carry on my plans now that I have her. "Stop worrying." I wink. "All that frowning will give you wrinkles."
Briar purses her lips, pouting. “You give me wrinkles,” she mutters.
At her words, the back door slams open and Willem jogs down the steps. “A heavy bag of gold bought silence from the Madame,” Willem says. He tosses his long blond hair over his shoulder and glowers at Aiden. “Though I had to pay extra for the damages from our dear friend.”
Aiden grins smugly. “What can I say? I’m a voracious lover.”
“Aiden, are you coming?” I ask, ignoring his lewd remarks.
“No, I think I need a vacation from all this seriousness and responsibility,” Aiden says, stretching. “It’s exhausting.”
“If you aren’t used to it.” I roll my eyes.
Aiden salutes casually walks back to the entrance of the alley. "I'll bring souvenirs next time," Aiden says.
I wave him away and summon my magic. I wrap it around Willem and Briar and myself, preparing to teleport us into the Underworld. “Ready?” I ask, voice distorted by the magic.
Briar nods sharply and Willem yawns. “I couldn’t be more ready to leave this shit-hole,” Willem says.
“Briar,” Aiden says as the magic takes effect. “Don’t forget our promise.”
Before I can register the meaning of his words, the world tips upside down and we slip into cold, velvety air. The chill melts away as the world rights itself. Warmth blasts over my face, rustling my hair over my forehead. I breathe in deeply before opening my eyes, taking in the familiar scent of the Underworld: jasmine and night air. When I open my eyes, I see an orange sky streaked with purple clouds. My muscles feel invigorated by the energy in the air of the Underworld and I can already feel my strength returning.
I teleported us to the center of the castle courtyard. Behind us, the gates leading to the city are closed but the bustling noises of life filter towards us. In front of us, my home rises strikingly into the sky. The dark stones of the castle are a stark contrast to the vibrant sky. I can pinpoint my office window from here, halfway up the main structure of the castle. The roofs of the tall, spindly showers are lost in the clouds.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Willem asks with a rare smile.
“It does,” I agree.
Willem stretches, his wings flaring out from between his shoulders. “I think I’ll take a spin,” he says. He lifts a brow at me. “Your office later?”
I nod, and Willem launches himself into the air with a powerful beat of his wings. He rolls overhead, hair streaming out around his face, before angling himself towards the city. In seconds, Willem is out of sight, darting between the towers and rooftops of the city. Briar watches him go with fascination, and I think of the wings I saw on her only two days ago.
“Have you ever wanted to fly?” I ask.
Briar bites her bottom lip and then smiles. “Yes,” she admits.
I release my own wings, tearing through the fabric of my jacket as the magic builds them up. The black, fleshy wings span a length twice my height. Briar’s eyes widen at the sight and I feel a thrill of fear course through her at the sight of them. I lap it up, pleased at her reaction. She reaches out a hand and trails her finger over the thin membrane, tracing the veins. I shiver at the sensation, a pleasant tingle flitting up my wings and down my spine.
“Let me show you the freedom of flight,” I murmur, pulling her towards me with my good arm.
Briar gasps when I pull her into my chest. She's careful not to brush up against my arm in the sling, instead sticking closely to my side. With one arm, I hoist her up, so her feet dangle in the air. I hear her swallow audibly, apprehension making her heart beat faster. I feel it pounding against my ribs and I welcome the rhythm. Carefully, I leap into the air, wings thumping loudly. Briar's yelp is lost to the beating of my wings and the rush of air around us. Her hair flies around her face wildly. I smile at the sight of her gaping mouth and wide eyes.
She screams as I lean forward, flying towards the castle. Almost horizontal, Briar clings tightly to me, as if trying to climb up my own body. Not that I wouldn’t welcome it. I close my eyes, losing myself in the sensation of the wind on my face. When I open them again, Briar is quiet, staring like a child at the scenery below us. From this height, she can see the obsidian mountains in the distance and the size of the city. Below us, servants and guards bustle through the courtyard, as small as ants.
I carry her towards my office windows. She wraps her legs around my waist instinctively as we get closer and I feel her body stiffen. Easily, I land on the sill of the window. With a flick of my wrist, the window flies open, curtains fluttering. Briar crawls from my arms onto the window seats, breathing hard with excitement. I send my wings away, and they dematerialize, pieces of them drifting away on the wind. Sighing, I climb into my office after Briar, taking care to avoid jostling my arm on the window.
Briar rubs her arms and turns bright eyes on me. “That was amazing,” she breathes.
“It is exciting, isn’t it?” I smile.
“If I had wings, I would fly all over the world,” Briar sighs wistfully.
Her attention drifts away to her fantasies as I stride towards one of my bookshelves. I run my tongue over my teeth, fighting the temptation to reveal her powers to her. I don't know how she would react to the knowledge, and I won't take any risks – not now that we're closer than we ever have been before. Clicking my tongue, I pull a rolled map from the shelf and toss it onto the desk.
“Come here,” I say, waving Briar towards my desk.
“What is it?” She asks as she eyes the map.
I spread it out on the table for her, pushing aside trinkets and tomes. This map of the Underworld is the most comprehensive in existence, showing every village, river, mountain range, cave, ocean, and ruin in the Underworld. No mortal eyes have ever seen it until now. “This is the Underworld,” I say as Briar’s eyes devour the map.
“What is all this?” She whispers, touching a corner tentatively.
“It’s my realm, the whole of it,” I say, a hint of pride in my voice.
“It’s enormous,” she says. Her eyes are wide as they dart from name to name. “It’s larger than the Western Continent.”
I point to a ruin on the southern islands on the other side of the Stone Sea. “This is Archech, the burial place of my predecessor.”
“Archech?” Recognition flickers in her eyes before she furrows her brows. “Your predecessor?”
“I was not the first God to call himself Death,” I explain. “Before me, there was Drogaem. Upon his death, his powers came to me.”
“But he isn’t your father?” Briar asks.
“No, that isn’t how inheritance works anymore. Many thousands of years ago it did, but when Lux was destroyed for her bloodline, the rules changed.” I study her closely for any sign of recognition at the name of the dead Goddess.
Briar doesn’t show any interest in the name. “So, Archech is where Drogaem is buried?” She asks slowly, stumbling over the complicated name.
“Yes.” I meet her gaze. “I need you if I’m to get there.”
“Why?” She furrows her brows, puzzled.
I ignore her question. “I know we’ve only just returned, but I want to get to Archech as soon as possible. If you’re able, we’ll leave tomorrow morning.”
“It looks far,” she mutters hesitantly.
“It is. And we won’t be able to magic ourselves there,” I explain. “It’s protected by powerful spells.”
“More powerful than you?” Briar asks, eyes lifting to meet mine.
I press my lips together in a thin line, eyes flashing darkly. “For the time being.”
Briar leans back and taps her fingers on the desk. “But why do you need me?”
“For moral support,” I say, flashing her a teasing grin.
A smile quirks her lips, but she tries to hide it. “Alright,” she concedes. “I’ll help you. But I want to know the real reason, eventually.”
“I just told you,” I say, propping one arm on the desk and grinning at her.
Briar strides towards the door, tossing a glance over her shoulder. Her gray eyes are sharp and intelligent. “Let’s pretend I believe you,” she says.
I smirk at her as she slips out of my office, leaving me alone with my visions of the future. I stare at the door for an instant, half-hoping she'll return. But it's best that she leaves me for the time being. There's much to plan and a lot of notes to review. The journey to Archech will take us through the most dangerous parts of the Underworld. And the tomb itself will hold mysteries not even I can imagine. Running my tongue over my lips, I sit down in the plush leather chair and begin to work. Soon, the ax hanging over my head will be no more. I have what I need.
Briar, of the Line of the Gods.
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Bailey Dark is obsessed with all things dark, hot, and supernatural. From Fae to Aliens, her heroes are thoroughly alpha and pure raw masculinity. When she’s not writing (which is hardly ever) she’s busy watching every movie in the marvel universe, or binging supernatural on her couch. So come along, and enter her dark world. . . .
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Chapter One
Altair
The purple hue of the dusky sky is fringed with orange. The sun is rising, though the daylight hasn’t yet driven out the night. The stars are still visible, winking above the city and the palace. From the roofless tower, I can hear my people below. The sounds of the city echo towards me, reaching high into the sky. Music and laughter. Laughter that will soon fall silent forever.
I narrow my eyes, staring angrily towards the mountain range in the distance. I can almost see Maaz and her Bloodbane witches soaring over the mountain peaks on their deadwood brooms. But it’s only a flock of birds.
I’m running out of time. The night is disappearing, and the days are passing too quickly. I relish the night. Every morning, as dawn approaches, I can’t escape the memory of the day Maaz cursed me. Cursed me to become the beast she saw when I refused her. I close my eyes, envisioning the moment.
Maaz, dressed in the blood-red gown slinked into my throne room as if it were hers already. She had dragged her long, black fingernails across my throat and down my chest, grinning.
I will never forget that grin. Cursed, she had said. Cursed for a thousand years or until I find a Bloodbane witch to break the spell and bind herself to me willingly. Cursed to die, along with all of my people, at the end of the thousand years.
And time is running short.
My stomach twists as Maaz’s cruel smirk flashes through my mind again. The wind caresses my cheek, and I open my eyes to stare down at my city once more. My coat snaps out behind me as the wind speed picks up. It’s coming from the West, towards the mountains.
I scowl, probably a reminder from Maaz. A gloat. A boast. She thinks she’s won already. Fury sweeps through me, sending my blood singing with blood lust. I swing my arm towards the flag pole beside me, where my banner proudly waves, and drive my fist through the wood. It splinters loudly, and the pole breaks in half. It clatters to the stone floor of the tower, the flag coiled beneath it.
I stare down at it, at the black hawk poised to strike on the background of red fabric. My crest. My boot falls over the hawk as I drive the heel of my boot onto the hawk, soiling the flag. It’s a useless symbol, anyway. Behind me, I hear the soft sound of Navi clearing her throat.
“When did you get here?” I ask, kicking the flag away.
She stoops and collects it from the ground. Always the loyal and patriotic soldier. “When you destroyed a perfectly good flag pole with a single punch,” she says soberly. She folds the flag and cradles it in her arms.
I scoff. “Just let it go, Navi. That flag won’t mean anything soon.”
“Quitting right before the end?” Navi asks, her green eyes flashing. “I expected more than that from our King.”
“King,” I echo softly. “A failure, you mean.”
“Altair,” she whispers, placing a thin hand on my shoulder. “There is hope yet.”
I turn to her, twisting my shoulder out from under her touch. She tucks her long hair behind one of her p
ointed ears as I stare coldly at her. “Don’t feed me lies, Navi.”
“Your Majesty, the scholars have identified the one who may be the key to ending the curse. We know where she is now.” Navi’s eyes glitter. “Let me retrieve her.”
“They found her?” I ask as the sun’s first rays slip over the horizon. Disbelief taints my voice. We’ve searched for her for hundreds of years, many of the scholars said it was impossible. That her existence was only a legend, a rumor.
I have waited almost five hundred years for this moment.
“I will go,” Navi says.
“No.” I turn to the rising sun. “I will.”
Chapter Two
Verity
The lipstick is too red for my tastes, a sharp contrast to my ivory skin. I sigh and wipe at it with a towel, smearing it a little. Tara clucks her tongue at me and uses a finger to gentle nudge my face towards her. She takes the towel and adjusts the makeup.
“What’s on your mind? I thought we decided on that lipstick yesterday,” she says. “Let’s go nude.”
I puff out my cheeks as she rummages through her makeup bag for a more natural lip. “I wouldn’t say that I’m getting cold feet . . . but I am apprehensive, let’s say.”
She paints my lips with the nude coral tone. Much better. “You don’t have to do this, you know. You can back out now if you want to, run away even. I’ve got your back.”
“Tara, you know I can’t,” I say. “My parents, well, they need this.”
Tara purses her lips and steps back to survey the whole picture. “God, you look gorgeous. Come look.” She maneuvers me in front of the floor-length mirror so I can see myself. “You’re the prettiest bride in the world.”
Dressed in a sleeveless ivory lace gown that hugs my figure before falling loosely to the floor in twirls of tulle, I do look the picture of a bride. Even if I don’t quite feel it. “The nude lip looks much better,” I remark, twisting my head to the side to admire my hair.