What Ash admitted, the truth of what he said, was swept into air that was neither warm nor freezing. Into the complete and total darkness that swallowed us.
Lightheaded and dizzy, I feared I would never see again. I reached down as I strained against the unyielding wall that was Ash’s chest. It caused the rawness along my back to ache as I clasped his arm. I couldn’t see. I couldn’t see anything—
A tiny pinprick of light appeared above, then another and another until hundreds of thousands of specks of light cascaded over the sky.
Stars.
They were stars, but not like the ones in the mortal realm. They were more vivid and radiant, casting a silvery glow that was far more powerful than the moon. I scanned the skies, searching and searching.
“Where is the moon?” I asked hoarsely.
“There is no moon,” Ash answered. “It is not night.”
My brows snapped together as I took in the sky that very much resembled night. “Is it day?”
“It is neither day nor night.” The arm around my waist loosened. “It just
is.”
I didn’t understand as Odin traveled forward, each step clanging off
cobblestone. I looked down, spying fingers of mist trailing softly over the road. I returned my stare to the sky. The longer I looked at it, the more I realized it didn’t resemble a night sky. Yes, there were stars, and they were brighter than anything I’d seen, but the sky was more…shadowy than black. Darker than the stormiest, most overcast day in the mortal realm. It reminded me of the moments before dawn, when the sun rose behind the moon and beat back the darkness, turning the world a shade of iron.
“Is there no sun?” I asked, wetting my lips. “Not in the Shadowlands.”
Barely able to comprehend that I was actually in the Shadowlands, I wasn’t sure what to do with the knowledge of there being no sun or moon. “Then how do you know when to sleep?”
“You sleep when you’re tired.”
He stated this as if sleeping were that simple. “What about the rest of Iliseeum?”
“The rest of Iliseeum appears as it should,” he answered flatly.
I wanted to ask why and what that meant, but the barren landscape changed. Tall trees appeared, and as we traveled, they grew closer and closer to the road. Bare, twisted trees that were nothing more than skeletons. Several large, rocky hills loomed ahead, spaced around the road we traveled on.
Uncertainty beat at me, along with all those messy emotions I couldn’t describe. But so did curiosity. The part of me that had always yearned to know what Iliseeum looked like stirred. I started to lean forward but stopped and forced my body to relax against his.
Putting space between was the exact opposite of what one did when they wanted to seduce another. I looked down at the arm held firmly around me. And despite how cool his skin was, the feel of him was…pleasant.
A deep, chuffing sound jerked my head up. One of the hills shuddered and rose. That was no hill ahead of us. My mouth dropped open. Wings swept out and then up into the starry sky. The ground around us trembled, scattering what was left of the mist as something thick and spiked swept across the road. My gaze followed the sidewinding tail to the creature that was at least twice Odin’s size.
Black and gray under the starlight, it stood on four muscular legs as it shook its great body, sending a fine layer of dirt into the air. Spikes traveled from the tail and along the thick scales of its back, some as small as my fist, others the size of several hands in length. The creature twisted sharply, faster than I would’ve ever anticipated something that size to move, turning its long, graceful neck in our direction.
Air thinned with each breath. I choked on a scream that never made it past my throat as a massive talon landed in the center of the road, claws wide and sharp. A moment later, the frilled head was directly in front of us
—a head nearly half the size of Odin’s body.
I fell back against Ash, staring at it—at the flat, broad nose and wide jaw, the pointed horns that sat upon its head like a crown, and eyes that
were such a vibrant shade of red, they contrasted sharply with the pitch- black, thin, vertical pupil.
I knew what I was staring at. I’d read about them in dusty, heavy tomes. I knew what purpose they served. They were the guardians of Iliseeum. I knew they were real, but I couldn’t believe I was actually seeing one— couldn’t believe I was face to face with a dragon.
A very large dragon with gray and black scales and many, many teeth. It leaned in even closer, its nostrils flaring as it appeared to sniff the air—sniff us.
“It’s okay,” Ash told me, and I realized I was once again clutching his arm. “Nektas won’t harm you. He’s just curious.”
Just curious?
I flinched as the dragon’s hot breath lifted the hair around my face.
Nektas let out a soft purring sound as he tilted his head even closer and then lowered it so it was only inches above Odin’s mane.
“I think he wants you to pet him,” Ash said. “What?” I whispered.
“It’s his way of knowing you mean him no harm,” he explained, and I wondered exactly how in the two realms I could ever be a threat to this creature. “And him allowing it is how he shows you that he won’t hurt you.”
“I believe you—him.” I swallowed.
The dragon made that low trilling sound again. “Where’s all that bravery?” Ash asked.
“My bravery ends when I’m faced with something that can swallow me whole.”
Nektas puffed out a hot breath as he cocked his head.
“He’s hurt that you would think he’d do such a thing,” Ash observed. “Besides, I don’t think he can swallow you whole.”
My mouth dried as I continued staring at the beast. He was beautiful and terrifying, and I didn’t know if any mortal alive today had seen one. I swallowed again, slowly easing my grip on Ash’s arm. My breath caught in my throat as I reached out.
If he bit my hand off, I would be so very disappointed.
Nektas vibrated with sound once more. The very tips of my fingers touched his flesh. I pressed lightly, surprised to find that his bumpy scales
felt like smooth leather. I petted his nose rather awkwardly. The dragon made a chuffing sound again, this time sounding very much like a laugh.
Pulling his head back, Nektas’s gaze focused over my shoulder and then he turned. The ground trembled as he pushed off his hind legs. Air whipped around us as powerful, clawed wings swept back. He lifted into the sky with a shocking surge, rising fast.
“See?” Ash held Odin’s reins tightly. “He will not harm you.” I touched a dragon.
That was all I could think.
“You can lower your hand now.” Amusement danced in his tone. Blinking, I pulled my hand to my chest. “It’s a dragon,” I murmured. “He’s a draken,” he corrected as Nektas flew ahead. “They are all
draken.”
They? Draken? The remaining hills weren’t hills, either. They shuddered and lifted their diamond-shaped heads to the sky, tracking Nektas. Wings unfurled against the ground, stirring dirt and dust as they rose, stretching their necks. They were smaller than Nektas, their scales a shimmering onyx in the starlight, but no less powerful as they pushed off their hind legs and launched into the sky.
“You…you have four…draken protecting you?” I asked, my stomach sinking. It wasn’t like I’d forgotten who the Primals’ guards were. But seeing it was a shock.
Ash nudged Odin forward. “I do.”
I watched the three others join Nektas, their wings sweeping gracefully through the sky. “And they have names?”
“Orphine, Ehthawn, and Crolee,” he answered. “Orphine and Ehthawn are twins. I believe Crolee is their distant cousin.”
“You call them draken?” I asked. “How is that any different from a dragon?”
“Very different.”
I waited. “Please tell me you’re going to explain further.”
“I am. Just thinking of a way to make it less confusing,” he said, that thumb of his beginning to move again. “Dragons were very old creatures. Very powerful. Some believe they even existed in both realms long before gods and mortals did.”
“I…I didn’t know that.”
“You wouldn’t,” he said. “A long time ago, a very powerful Primal befriended the dragons, despite being unable to communicate with them. He wanted to learn their stories, their histories, and being quite young at the time, he was rather…impulsive in his actions. He knew one way he could talk to them was to give them a godly form—a dual life. One where they could shift between that of a dragon and a godly form.”
This young Primal he spoke of had to be Kolis. That was the only Primal who could create any form of life. “They can…they can look like you and me?”
“For the most part,” he confirmed. I really wanted to know what he meant by that. “Those who chose to take the dual life were called draken.”
“Are there any dragons left? Ones that don’t shift?”
“Sadly, no. Dragons and draken live for an extraordinarily long time, but their ancestors went extinct quite some time ago.” His thumb moved in that slow, idle circle again. “They weren’t the only ones this young Primal gave a dual life to.”
I thought of the creatures I’d once heard of that lived in the sea off the coast of Iliseeum. I had so many additional questions, but they fell to the wayside as I saw what the draken were flying towards.
A torch-lit wall appeared below, tall as the inner wall of Wayfair, but the castle I had grown up in paled in comparison to what sat atop a gently rolling hill. A massive, sprawling structure that was as wide as it was tall. Turrets and towers stretched high into the sky, and the entire palace was star-kissed, glittering as if a thousand lamps had been lit. It reminded me of the Shadow Temple but was far larger.
A heavily wooded area pressed against the back of the palace walls and beyond them, as far as I could see, were specks of light too numerous to count. A city—there was a city.
My pulse galloped as we rode down the hill. Tiny balls of dread and anticipation formed in my stomach as we drew close to the gated wall. I was stuck in a chasm of apprehension and something akin to curiosity but stronger.
“That is…that is your home?” The air seemed thinner, and I wasn’t sure if it was my imagination or not as I saw the draken circling the palace.
“It is known as the House of Haides. The wall surrounding it is called the Rise,” he told me. “It encompasses both Haides and the city of Lethe, up to the Black Bay.”
Ahead, the trees still encased the road, but more of the wall became visible, as did the gate. There was something on the wall—several somethings I couldn’t make out. We rounded a slight bend in the road. The wall also appeared to be made of shadowstone, the surface not nearly as glossy or smooth. Instead of reflecting the starlight, it seemed to swallow any and all light, which was what made those shapes so difficult to discern until the massive, iron gate silently began to open.
My gaze crept over the wall, over the shapes, and I started to feel lightheaded. The shapes on the wall were that of a cross. My breathing was too shallow, even though my chest heaved with each breath.
They were people.
People stripped bare and impaled on the wall with some sort of stakes through their hands and chests. Their heads hung limply, and the stench of death filled the air.
Bile climbed my throat as my grip tightened on the pommel. “Why?” I whispered. “Why are those people on the wall?”
“They are gods,” Ash answered, his voice flat and as cold as the waters of the lake. “And they serve as a reminder for all.”
“Of what?”
“That life for any being is as fragile as the flame of a candle—easily extinguished and stamped out.”
 |
Two of the draken circling the palace descended on either side of the gate, stirring up a gust of wind. They landed on the Rise. Neither the shuddering impact nor the deep, rumbling sound they made penetrated the horror of what I’d seen on the Rise.
I sat in stunned silence as I saw men—men and women in black and gray armor—along the Rise, stop and bow deeply as Ash rode past. But I barely saw them. Barely saw the numerous balconies and spiraling outdoor staircases that seemed to connect every floor of the palace to the ground.
Ash had gods impaled to his wall.
The cruelty and inhumanity of that and his words left me numb and confused as we entered the brightly lit stables. For someone who’d once
said that every death should leave a mark, his actions told a different story.
A man approached from one of the stables, bowing before taking Odin’s reins. If he spoke, I didn’t hear him. If he looked up at us, I didn’t see it.
I felt like I might be sick.
I didn’t protest when Ash dismounted first and lifted his hands to help me down. I barely felt the touch of his hand on my lower back or the soft straw under my feet as he led me outside and toward a side entrance to the castle, tucked behind a staircase.
The windowless door opened to reveal a man with golden-red hair and the same rich, wheatish skin tone. He looked at me with dark brown eyes— eyes that carried a silvery glow behind the pupils. A god. Those luminous eyes shifted to Ash and then back at me. “I have so many questions.”
“I’m sure you do,” Ash answered dryly, looking down at me. “This is Rhain. He’s one of my guards. Like Ector and Saion.”
I forced my lips to move as I looked up into Rhain’s dark eyes. “I’m—” “I know who you are,” Rhain said, startling me. He raised a brow at
Ash. “Which is why I have so many questions. But I know. They have to wait.” He paused as Ash guided me into a shadowy interior stairwell. “Theon and Lailah are inside,” the god added quietly as he followed us.
Ash sighed. “Of course.” He stopped in the narrow space, facing me. “I’d hoped there’d be time before anyone realized you were here. Very few people have…known of you. The ones you’re about to meet, don’t. And I’m sure they will have questions, too.”
“Most definitely,” Rhain agreed.
“Questions that will mostly go unanswered,” Ash stressed, shooting the god a look. “You will be introduced as my Consort, and that is all. Okay?”
Any other time, I would have asked many questions. Instead, I nodded. My hands were trembling slightly as Ash reached around me and pushed open a second door.
The unexpected, intense light caused me to take a step back. I blinked until my eyes adjusted. The light was as bright as sunshine, and for a moment, I thought it had been Ash glowing again with power. But it wasn’t.
I looked up at a glittering chandelier of cascading glass candles hanging in the center of an entryway. There was no flame. The candles glowed a bright yellow, nonetheless, as did the sconces on black pillars that stretched upward onto the second floor.
“It’s Primal energy,” Ash explained, seeing what I stared at. “It powers the lighting throughout the palace and Lethe.”
Speechless, I dragged my eyes from the lights. A curved staircase sat on each side of the space, facing one another. Their railings and steps were carved from shadowstone. Beyond the staircases and through a wide, sharply pointed archway was an expansive room.
“Come.” Ash nudged me forward, and I took a tiny step when two people drifted out from the room and walked under the arch.
What I saw stopped me from moving another step and had me really considering if I had, perhaps, unintentionally smoked the White Horse.
A tall male and female stood before me, dressed in the same clothing style as Ash, except their silver-brocaded tunics were long-sleeved. The male wore his hair in neat, braided rows along his scalp, and the female’s was braided straight back and cascaded beyond her shoulders. They were of the same height and shared the same rich black complexion and wide-set, golden eyes. Their features were nearly identical. The male’s brow was broader, and the cheekbones on the female were more angular, but it was clear they were twins. I’d never seen twins before—not even fraternal twins
—but it wasn’t them I stared at.
There was…a purplish-black, winged creature about the height of a medium-sized dog beside them, flapping its leathery wings as it nudged the female’s hand with its head.
They stopped when they saw me.
I knew my mouth was hanging open. I couldn’t close it because there was a tiny draken standing between them.
“Hello.” The female drew the word out as her widened eyes flicked to Ash. “Your Highness?”
Ash’s hand remained on my lower back. “Theon. Lailah. This is Sera.
She is a guest.”
“I sort of figured she was a guest,” Theon remarked. “Or at least I hoped you didn’t decide to start following the family tradition of kidnapping mortal girls.”
Wait. What?
Ash’s jaw hardened. “Unlike some, nothing about that is appealing to me.”
“Is she a special friend?” Lailah asked.
“Actually, yes. She is…” He seemed to take a deep breath and prepare himself. “She is to be my Consort.”
The two stared at us.
Several long moments stretched while the small draken’s head swung side to side.
“I have a question,” Lailah announced as she scratched the draken under the chin. The creature let out a trilling purr. “Well, I have several questions, starting with why does your Consort look like she was thrown from the mortal realm into ours?”
Did I look that unkempt? I glanced down at myself. The hem of my cloak ended at my calves, exposing blood-stained feet. Through the halves of the cloak, the night rail hung limply. I didn’t even want to know what my hair looked like or what might cover my face.
“I didn’t throw her into this realm,” Ash grumbled. “There was an incident before we arrived here.”
“What kind of incident?” Rhain asked from where he leaned against one of the pillars.
“One that is no longer an issue.”
Interest sparked in Lailah’s eyes. “Do tell.” “Maybe later,” Ash answered.
Her brother now raised a hand. “I have questions, too.”
“And I don’t care,” Ash replied. Rhain coughed under his breath. “Do you two have nothing to do? If not, I am sure there is plenty you could be doing.”
“Actually, we were about to take little Reaver-Butt here out for some airtime.” Lailah grinned as the draken let out a squawk of agreement.
“The draken’s name is Reaver-Butt?” I blurted.
Lailah laughed softly as she sent me a quick smile. “His name is Reaver,” she said, and he hopped on his hind legs. “But I like to add the butt part. He seems to enjoy it, too.”
“Oh,” I whispered, fingers itching to reach out and pet the small draken.
At this size, it was nowhere near as frightening as Nektas. “Then why don’t you two get on with that?” Ash suggested.
Grinning, Theon bowed his head. “As you wish.” His sister joined him, strolling forward. As he neared me, the god bowed once more and spoke, lowering his voice. “Blink twice if you have been kidnapped.”
Lailah grinned and sent Ash a long, sideways look. “Or just blink.”
I almost blinked because it was clear they were teasing Ash—a Primal who had gods strung up on the walls outside his palace.
“Go,” Ash ordered, and I turned as they moved on, my attention focused on the small draken teetering on Lailah’s shoulder.
“That’s a baby draken,” I said.
Ash looked down at me. “Draken don’t hatch the size of Nektas, and Reaver would be highly annoyed if he heard you refer to him as a baby.”
“I would hope not, considering that would be one hell of a large egg,” I retorted. “I just…” I trailed off, shaking my head and folding my arms over my waist. I felt like my head was going to explode.
“Seeing any draken, large or small, must be a shock,” Rhain commented, and I peeked over at him. His golden-red hair was a flame against the darkness of the pillar. “I imagine it will continue to be a shock for some time.”
I nodded tentatively. “I think it will be.” The god smiled faintly.
Ash shifted so he halfway blocked Rhain. “Why are you still here?” he demanded of the god.
“I figured since Saion wasn’t here, I would undertake the honor of annoying you,” he replied, his tone flat.
The Primal let out a low rumble of warning. My breath caught. Rhain had to know about the gods on the Rise, as did the twins. Would any of them really want to annoy Ash?
“I actually have a valid reason for hanging around. I need to talk with you.” Rhain pushed off the pillar as I peeked around Ash. His face was set in taut, drawn lines. “It’s important.”
And, obviously, it was also something he didn’t want to speak about in front of me.
Which was annoying.
Ash nodded and looked down at me, about to speak, but he narrowed his eyes. He moved quickly, folding his hand over my biceps. I jerked at the contact. He turned my arm slightly. “What caused this bruise? I meant to ask about it earlier.”
“What?”
“This bruise. It’s an older one,” he stated, and I looked at my arm. Tavius. Gods. I’d forgotten about him and the bowl of dates. “How did this happen?”
“I walked into something.” I tugged on my hand.
“You don’t strike me as the type to walk into things.”
“How would you know?” I demanded, pulling on my arm again.
Ash lowered his chin. “Because you’ve appeared very sure-footed and precise in your movements.”
“That doesn’t mean I don’t have moments of clumsiness.” “Really?” He held on for a moment longer but then let go. I folded my arm back to my waist. “Really.”
“This is entertaining,” Rhain commented.
Ignoring the god, Ash’s piercing stare remained fixed on me. “You must have walked into it pretty hard to create that bruise.”
“Must have,” I muttered, nervously taking in the large entryway. There were no statues, no banners or paintings. The walls were as bare as the floor, cold and desolate.
And this was to be my…home? For how long? As long as it took.
A bone-deep weariness settled into me, and I became aware of the ache in my temples, which seemed to match the steady throbbing in my shoulders and back. I had no idea if my legs had felt this weak for a while, or if that was something new. It took everything in me to remain standing.
“Hey.” Ash’s fingers pressed under my chin, startling me. “What?”
“I asked if you were hungry.” His gaze searched mine intently. “You must not have heard me.”
Was I hungry? I wasn’t sure. I shook my head.
His regard was so singularly focused on me that I wondered if he could see beyond the surface. “How is your back feeling?”
“Okay.”
He continued staring and then nodded as he hooked a finger around a wayward curl that had fallen forward before carefully tucking it back. The tender act reminded me of the lake, and I didn’t understand how his touch could be so gentle when he impaled gods on the Rise.
Ash tilted his head back and then turned to the archway. “Aios?”
I turned as a woman stepped out from beyond the archway. I blinked, yet again feeling as if I were hallucinating. She was…good gods, she was beautiful. Her face was heart-shaped, eyes a bright citrine with thick lashes, plump lips, and high and full cheeks. She crossed into the entryway,
smoothing several strands of vibrant red hair back behind an ear before clasping her hands over the midsection of a long-sleeved, gray gown cinched at the waist with a silver chain.
Aios stopped before us, bowing slightly. “Yes?”
“Can you please show Sera to her room and make sure she has food sent to her and a bath readied?” Ash asked.
The desire to tell him that he didn’t need to speak for me died on the tip of my tongue. He’d said “please” to who I assumed was a god. But maybe she was a household servant of some sort. To many, the use of the word seemed like a common courtesy, but growing up around nobles and the wealthy, I knew that too few ever spoke it. And I honestly didn’t expect it to come from the lips of someone who had impaled gods on his wall as a horrific warning.
Then again, I would never have expected such a sight from Ash.
“Of course. I’ll be happy to.” Aios turned to me. She blinked rapidly and then her expression cleared. “Yes. Definitely a bath.”
My lips pursed, but before I could say a word, she hooked an arm through mine. The same strange jolt of energy nearly overshadowed the ease with which she touched me.
Aios’s brows lifted as her gaze flew to the Primal. “Nyktos…”
“I know,” he said, and he sounded weary. I glanced at Ash, wanting to hear what he knew, but he spoke first. “I’ll return to you in a little bit. You can trust Aios.”
I didn’t trust any of them, but I nodded. The sooner I was alone to think, the better. Surely, this ache in my temples would fade by then. Ash remained there for a moment, his eyes deepening to the shade of a thundercloud. He turned stiffly, joining Rhain. They headed beyond the archway.
“Come,” Aios insisted softly, leading me toward the staircase.
The stone of the steps was cool under my feet as we climbed and then headed to our left.
“The room has been readied for you. Well, it’s been ready for quite some time and dusted frequently just in case. I think you will find it most pleasing,” she said, and my head jerked to hers. She appeared as if she were my age, but I knew that could be incredibly misleading. “It has its own adjoining bathing chamber and balcony. It’s quite a handsome room.”
Several things occurred to me at once. “How did you know I was coming?”
Aios’s gaze flicked away from me. “Well, I didn’t know for sure. I just knew there was a chance.”
For her to have expected me, she must have some knowledge of the history. “You knew about the deal?”
“I did,” she said, smiling brightly as she ushered me beyond a second flight of stairs.
“Can you tell me how long you knew there was a chance?”
“A couple of years,” she announced as if that meant nothing, but it said a whole hell of a lot.
We continued to the fourth floor. From there, she steered me toward a wide hall lit by sconces with frosted glass globes. The walls were otherwise bare.
We passed a set of black-painted double doors with some kind of silver, swirling design etched into the center. Aios stopped at the next set of double doors, ones that were identical to the only other set I could see in the entire hall.
“Are there no other rooms on this floor beside the one we passed?” I asked as she fished a key from the pocket of her gown.
“There is only one room in the other wing, but most guests stay on the third or second floors.” She unlocked the door, and I glanced over my shoulder at the doors down the hall.
“What about the staff—you?”
A look of confusion briefly pinched her striking features. “I am not staff.”
“I’m sorry.” I could feel my face reddening. “I just assumed—” “It’s okay. Anyone would assume that. There is no staff.”
“Well, now I’m confused,” I admitted.
A faint smile appeared. “There are those of us who help out because we choose to. We’ve sort of…forced our assistance upon Nyktos,” she said, and it was a little jarring to hear her use his real name. “Otherwise, Haides would be a mess, and he would probably never eat.”
I could only stare.
“Anyway, I tend to be around during the day.” She laughed. “I know. It doesn’t look like day outside, but you’ll see that the skies do tend to darken as the hours pass.”
“Wait.” I needed to make sense of this. “You help, acting as household staff by choice, but you’re not paid?”
“We don’t need to be paid. Nyktos provides for those who see to Haides’ functionality. Actually,” she said, her brow pinching, “everyone you will come across here and in Lethe are well provided for, even if they do have more official responsibilities.”
“Well provided for?” I repeated those words as if they were a language I didn’t understand.
“Shelter. Food,” she said, lips parting as if she wished to add more to the list but then changed her mind. Her smile turned a bit brittle. “But to answer your other question, no one else lives here.”
“Not even the god downstairs? Rhain?” “No, he has a home in Lethe.”
“What about the men and women near the wall—I mean, the Rise? The draken?”
“The guards? They have their own quarters—a dormitory of sorts between here and Lethe,” she explained, gripping the handle. “The draken also have homes.”
Only Ash lived in this enormous palace? Normally, the core staff and a set of guards resided within a residence. “Why does no one else live here?”
Aios’s smile finally faded away. “It wouldn’t be safe for them to do so.”
