Nightborn: Totally addictive fantasy fiction (The Hollow King Book 2)

by Jessica Thorne

  A wind swept out of nowhere and the door behind him slammed shut. The Godslayer turned too hot to hold and he had no choice but to drop it. The sword clattered to the marble floor, smoking like it was fresh out of a forge. Bastien’s legs locked in position, his body held so tight he could barely breathe, let alone move.

  Grace walked towards him, Asher and Aurelie watching in stunned silence. Without hesitation she bent down and took the torc from his neck. He couldn’t do anything to stop her and the smile she wore made his heart stutter with fear.

  It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be possible.

  She smoothed her hands lovingly across the surface of the golden metal and then tugged the warrant from her throat.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Aurelie said, fear infecting her features now.

  Grace turned, the black skirt swirling around her, and in her hands the torc and the warrant seemed to melt, spinning together, blending until the molten metal reformed. She held a crown, a golden crown. There was something savage about it, the points more like knives, the ends sharp and gleaming. It wasn’t the crown that had formed for him when Grace had given him back the warrant. This was something else. Belonging to another mind, one broken and brutal.

  Grace – it wasn’t Grace, he could never believe that was still Grace – whirled around with it, laughing in delight and then she settled it on her head. It glittered in her fire-red hair.

  ‘Now…’ she breathed out the word, a sound filled with anticipation. ‘Where shall we begin?’

  Chapter 32

  Grace’s body shook but she was locked inside it, trapped by the Hollow King’s crown and the power of the Deep Dark radiating from it.

  Bastien was there.

  Her Bastien… living, breathing, alive.

  Helpless…

  There wasn’t a trace of magic left in him. She couldn’t sense it, couldn’t see it. He was only human.

  And so very vulnerable.

  He struggled, panic making his dark brown eyes wide. Human eyes, without a trace of the Maegen in them. What had happened to him? How was he even here?

  She struggled against the bonds holding her, fighting back now. Celeste’s laughter echoed through her blood.

  ‘Very amusing,’ said Aurelie in her calm, cool voice. ‘I’m so glad to see stories of your death were exaggerated, Bastien, but you were a fool to come back here.’ She glared at Asher as she walked forward, her long gown swishing hypnotically around her legs. ‘I will take great pleasure in reminding you of your proper place.’

  The dark goddess laughed out of Grace’s mouth again – Celeste’s laughter, Grace was sure of it now – and Aurelie turned in shock, her whole affronted demeanour almost comical. Grace gasped for breath, desperate and afraid. Celeste Larelwynn was clawing her way up inside her, driving for the surface, pushing the Deep Dark down in her desire to take control.

  The marks on her face in Celeste’s blood burned. The power that Celeste had always craved, his crown, her freedom… she had it now. She was free of the Temple, free of the body that had imprisoned her and all the bonds that had driven her insane. She was free of the sigil locking her magic inside her.

  Was this what she had planned all along?

  ‘Stop it,’ Aurelie snarled at her. ‘Asher, make her stop.’

  But Asher just gazed at Grace in wonder. No, not at Grace. He was not seeing her at all. It was the Little Goddess who he gazed upon. He smiled slowly, ignoring the queen.

  ‘My goddess.’ It was Jehane who spoke, his voice a murmur, his eyes dark with wonder and desire, completely nightborn now. Her creature, Grace realised, Celeste’s to the bottom of his soul. ‘We have delivered you and given you a new life. As we promised.’ She remembered his face when he had first seen the warrant, when he had told her she should be queen. He’d known… he had planned this. Him and Asher Kane.

  Asher was watching her with the same rapt adoration, but he wasn’t nightborn. His expression was all Asher Kane, greed and triumph twisting him. He’d daubed those symbols on her face in Celeste’s blood, marking her for this.

  ‘What is he talking about?’ Aurelie snapped at Kane.

  ‘It’s not Grace, Aurelie,’ Bastien said in a tight and tortured voice. ‘Not any more.’

  But it was. She wanted to scream it at him. She was still here, still trapped inside herself while this… thing was in control.

  ‘Who is it then?’ the queen said, disbelief dripping from her words.

  ‘My sister. Celeste.’ He was still trying to struggle free of whatever bonds Celeste had placed on him but speaking attracted her attention once again. Grace’s arm shot out towards him – she couldn’t stop it – and he came down on his knees heavily, pain making him cry out.

  ‘Don’t tell tales, little brother,’ she teased. ‘It isn’t nice. I worked long and hard to get here, ever since the Larelwynns trapped me in the Temple. I’ve plotted my vengeance on this wretched place and its family ever since. And you—’ She snarled at Aurelie, who fell back on her throne, white-faced. ‘You lied about having a child, and you murdered me.’

  ‘Asher!’ Aurelie cried out. ‘Protect me!’

  But Asher wasn’t paying any attention to her now. Grace would have felt sorry for her, if it wasn’t Aurelie. If she hadn’t brought this down on all of them.

  Bastien dragged himself up from the ground and onto his knees.

  ‘Celeste…’ He ground out her name, fighting to keep himself from falling beneath the onslaught of power she continued to rain down on him.

  ‘I never could fool you for a moment, Bastien,’ she purred. ‘She’s still in here, you know? Your beloved Grace. She’s mine now, mine forever, to do with what I want. Want to see?’

  Sharp points like teeth sank into Grace’s consciousness, tearing through her fragile identity. For a moment she was herself again, briefly, enough time to scream in agony.

  ‘Grace!’ Bastien’s voice wrenched out of his throat and he tried to fling himself towards her. But he couldn’t move.

  ‘My goddess, no,’ Jehane shouted, his voice unexpectedly firm. ‘We need her.’

  In that instant, Celeste’s control snapped back around Grace and she straightened, looking on him with all the disgust of an empress on a rat. Under the full fire of her attention, Jehane bowed his head. But barely enough to placate her. Celeste scowled.

  ‘You think you can command me? Your loyalty is fickle, Shade. We should examine that.’

  He flinched like a child seeing a raised hand, just for a moment, but then the cold assassin was back. ‘Mistress, goddess…’ he began, that charm Grace had noted in him time and again and always dismissed. ‘Forgive me. I live only to serve you. But we made a deal, you and I. I saved her life for you. I made her yours. I gave her to you. Pliant, obedient…’

  Obedient? No. Grace would never be obedient. As for pliant…

  Grace fought furiously, trying to break free. If it could be done once, it could be done again. The gap had to be there somewhere. That brief moment of freedom had been enough to focus her mind, to allow her to hope again.

  ‘You chose well, Jehane,’ Celeste said. ‘But I wonder if you ever truly knew her. Pliant indeed. Not Grace Marchant. We don’t want her pliant. We want her to fight, to struggle, to fail. Oh, yes, we want her failure, her desperation. And my siblings like to play with her. The Deep Dark is wild and ungovernable. It needs me to control it. It always has. She distracts it. And, as Aurelie so kindly murdered me, I am free. Finally free of that prison they called a Temple and that weak and broken body they trapped me in. Free to do all that I was created to do.’

  ‘And what is that?’ Aurelie asked, still clinging to her throne.

  ‘Rule, your majesty.’

  ‘Over my dead body.’

  Celeste laughed, her wild rolling laugh, and it was joined by a thousand other voices, drowning out Grace’s shout of alarm.

  ‘That can be arranged, Aurelie.’ The amusement in Celeste’s voice was painful to he
ar. ‘This is my crown now. It carries all the power of the Maegen in it. Want a taste? I know you do, you pitiful little addict. You’ve worn enough of my blood to stand it.’

  Slowly Celeste approached her, stalking her, and the queen seemed frozen to the spot, her perfect face etched in horror, transfixed. Celeste stretched out one of Grace’s hands and touched Aurelie’s forehead. The wave of magic sent the queen reeling back, her mouth wide, her pupils dilated to endless black holes. She wilted on the throne, and then shuddered like someone having a seizure. Magic coursed through her, far too much.

  ‘Celeste,’ Bastien shouted. ‘Celeste, please! Stop this.’

  She spun around. He’d made it back to his feet again. Somehow without her attention on him, the power holding him weakened. Grace felt a surge of relief but at the same time she could feel Celeste’s insane rage. She wanted him broken. And she intended to do that herself.

  Slowly Celeste walked towards him. ‘Shall I show you again, Bastien? Shall I let you see her suffer? Or should I leave that torture for her? Grace can see you, you know. She can see everything I do to you. And she is still trying to regain control. She fights and fights, doesn’t she? This will be her whole existence now. Fighting forever. My prisoner. My hostage within this body.’

  Celeste reached out, cupping the side of his face with Grace’s hand. Grace could feel his stubble, the firm line of his jaw, the tightness… His pain. Divinities, she wanted to touch him, to keep touching him. But not like this. She wanted to help him, free him. She wanted him. Only him.

  Celeste drew back her hand and hit him. His head snapped to the side and he couldn’t hope to stop the sob of pain and defeat.

  ‘Goddess, we had a deal,’ Jehane said again. ‘It’s time I was paid my due.’ Asher hissed at him, but he wasn’t listening any more.

  Celeste grabbed Bastien by a clump of his hair and dragged him around to face Jehane. The Shade raised his hands in supplication, although his expression said anything but. Celeste tilted her head on one side and studied him, bemused.

  ‘What do you want, Jehane?’ she sighed, a sound of irritation and disgust. ‘Do you fancy you love her too? As much as he does? Should I make the two of you fight for her? Or for me?’

  ‘No, my goddess. You promised me strength. You promised me power.’

  He’d fled his home as a boy, Grace knew that, driven out just like her. He’d fought and struggled and killed, done whatever it took to protect himself, to survive. He was still doing it. The desperation buried in the depths of those heartless eyes told her he’d do anything, betray anyone, for the power Celeste offered. All to protect the terrified child he had once been.

  ‘I promised you?’ She smiled. She clearly had no memory of making any such promise but it was Celeste. She would have said anything to get her freedom. ‘Well, if I promised… If that’s what you truly want. I’ll make you strong. So strong that no one will hurt you ever again, poor little Shade. I’ll give you power. I’ll make you mine.’

  Jehane cast a suddenly triumphant sneer at Asher and then looked to her. ‘That is my only wish.’

  This was a mistake, Grace knew that. Jehane couldn’t handle the type of power Celeste offered. And to make him hers? Did she fancy a mad king beside her on the throne? A Shade obsessed with her and all she could offer? Between them, what would they do to Rathlynn? What would they do to Bastien?

  Jehane gazed down on her, and she knew instantly he saw her, not Celeste. He had no interest in Celeste bar the magic she offered. But Grace… she was a different story.

  ‘I told Grace Marchant that she owed me her life,’ he whispered. ‘And that one day I would collect. This is that day, my queen.’ The slow smile that spread over his face made her skin crawl with disgust.

  Grace reached for Bastien, with a hand that she wasn’t even aware she could still control. But somehow she found his fingers threading through hers.

  ‘Then your wish will be granted, my sweet Jehane.’ Celeste purred his name. ‘Join me in the shadows and be mine.’

  Grace shuddered as Celeste’s power radiated from her. Bastien’s grip tightened on her hand but Celeste jerked Grace away from him like a puppet, her toy. She pulled Jehane to her with a fistful of his shirt, gazing into his lust-filled eyes. Then she kissed him savagely.

  It was a bruising, violent clash of mouths and teeth. Celeste was in control now. Grace didn’t have a hope of resisting.

  For a moment Jehane’s eyes fluttered closed, submitting to her entirely, and then they snapped open, jet black as hers, but wide with shock. Celeste drew back as the Shade convulsed and darkness began to pour out of him. He desperately tried to breathe, but the nightborn magic tore through him, taking him apart shadow by shadow. Grace watched, horrified, as he disintegrated, right in front of her.

  Part of her felt the justice of it. He’d betrayed her and Celeste had destroyed him. Grace wouldn’t have stopped her. Justice had been written on her heart in the Academy. Now it was served.

  And for a moment, just a moment, she felt whole again. Celeste reeled back, the outpouring of her power weakening her.

  For the first time since Celeste had asserted herself, Grace felt the Deep Dark seething beneath her, distinct, something that wasn’t part of her. It was trapped as Grace was and it was not happy. It couldn’t break free. No more than Grace could.

  Not alone.

  It ought to have been unthinkable, but she was desperate now.

  Help me, she tried to tell it, to beg it. Help me stop her. We have to… or we’ll serve her forever.

  The power of the Deep Dark seized her, hurling her from her body.

  Suddenly she wasn’t seeing with her own eyes any more, but with its power. She was somewhere else, flying along the corridors of the palace, swooping down the outside of the walls. Rathlynn was full of torches, its people – her people – racing for the palace, for the gates and the walls, far more than the remaining Royal Guard could deal with. Most of them didn’t even try. They turned and ran. She searched the faces, looking for those she knew. Kurt was there, of course, and any number from Eastferry and beyond. She swooped up again, spiralling dizzyingly around the towers of the palace. Ellyn kicked open the door to Bastien’s room and Daniel almost took her head off with the sword Grace had told him to use. Ellyn ducked, cursed and then Daniel threw his arms around her. They were safe. Thank all the powers and the divinities they were safe.

  Something hit Grace like a punch in the stomach, dragging her back into her battered body.

  Celeste snarled. Had she seen it too? Did she know what was coming?

  ‘Grace,’ Bastien whispered again, and she gripped his hand even more firmly. ‘You can do this.’

  No, she couldn’t. Not by herself. But she could have help. If she accepted it. If the Deep Dark accepted her. Help was coming, physical help, that was what the Deep Dark was trying to show her. But it wouldn’t be here soon enough.

  Help me. Please. Help me and I’ll… I’ll find a way to help you. Please.

  It was a dangerous bargain she was suggesting, she knew that. But she didn’t have any choice.

  You could be so much more. If you just had the courage to reach out and seize it.

  The Deep Dark studied her, deliberating. It seemed as wary of her as she was of it. For the longest moment its myriad energies coiled beneath her, like a great beast ready to spring. It didn’t want to be subject to Celeste any more than she did. The goddess was powerful. But the Deep Dark had to remember that it was stronger in all its many forms. A collective consciousness. Stronger than any of them. The Hollow King, Celeste, the Larelwynns…

  Terribly strong.

  ‘Be careful love,’ Bastien whispered, the sound no more than a breath. ‘Don’t—’

  But before he could say whatever warning he had for her the Deep Dark rose like a tidal wave within Grace, swallowing Celeste up in its rage.

  At the same moment Aurelie surged out of the throne and snatched the crown from her head.


  Chapter 33

  Grace stood trembling for a moment, and then all strength was wrenched away from her. She fell like a puppet with cut strings and Bastien’s arms closed around her as he gathered her in his embrace, saying her name over and over again like a prayer.

  ‘You have to get out of here,’ she tried to tell him, breathlessly. Without his magic, he wouldn’t stand a chance. Why had he come? He should never have come… ‘You have to—’

  Aurelie had the crown. Grace couldn’t go anywhere while Aurelie held that crown. And Bastien wasn’t going to leave her.

  Asher Kane recovered himself first. ‘Aurelie, what are you doing?’

  She gazed down at the treasure in her hands, turning it around and around to examine it as if it was a longed-for prize. ‘Taking what is mine by right, Asher.’

  The dilemma showed on his face for only a moment. His wheedling persona returned, all charm and snake-oil.

  ‘Aurelie, let’s talk about this. Together we can—’

  Pounding shook the doors, shouts and the sound of combat outside. The Rathlynnese had arrived. Any minute now, Grace thought, any minute, they’d take the palace. She had to believe that. She had to.

  Kane swallowed and carried on. ‘There’s a mob out there, your majesty. They’ll tear you limb from limb if you don’t listen to me.’

  Aurelie shook her head slowly. Something in her clearly wanted to believe him, the part of her that needed him, that loved him, or whatever emotion she still possessed that could pass for love. But she hesitated too long. And in that moment, his performance slipped, the master manipulator pushed to the edge by desperation.

  ‘Damn it, Aurelie, do as you’re told.’

  The glimmer of hope in Aurelie’s eyes died. Something else replaced it, cold and vicious. Her grip on the ancient crown tightened.