by Jen McIntosh
‘Oh, come now,’ the Shade woman admonished. ‘Don’t do anything rash. I would hate to have to hurt such a pretty face.’
Arian bared her teeth in silent challenge. ‘Zorana. I should have known you were the one holding his leash. He always was a choosy bastard. Who else would he deign to whore himself for but a Shade Princess?’
‘Arian,’ the Shade purred, ‘Taelyr has told me so much about you – his beloved songbird. It’s a pleasure to meet you in person. My brother will be delighted. He’s been so looking forward to getting to know you.’
The Phoenix spat at her feet.
Zorana flushed, a glimmer of haughty rage flashing in those pale eyes. ‘Charming.’
‘I warned you,’ Taelyr murmured. Then he laughed, a sound that made Renila’s stomach heave. ‘At least Mazron can have some fun breaking her.’
The Princess smirked as she stepped closer, running a possessive hand down Renila’s cheek. Renila forced herself not to flinch from that touch, but she could not keep the fear from her eyes when the Princess said, ‘And now we even have a spare.’
The roar of thunder warring in the sky above was deafening. Lightning sparked and danced over Alvar’s body, the winds howling through the forest.
‘Touch her again, Shade,’ he growled, ‘and not even your power will be strong enough to shield you.’
Zorana laughed, her hand closing on Renila’s wrist. ‘I can be gone from this place before you can even draw breath – and you will never see her again. Or you can come quietly, and I promise that none of you will be harmed.’
‘Your word is worthless,’ Arian snapped. Beside her, the bear growled in agreement.
The Shade’s pale eyes flickered to it. ‘Rumour has it the bastard son of the Hal Chieftain is rather handsome. Why don’t you stop hiding behind the fur and fangs and come out to play like a big boy?’
The bear shimmered and shifted, leaving Ornak standing in its place. He was panting, a rumbling growl building in his chest, but his hands were steady as he drew his axe from across his back. There was nothing but lethal calm in those bronze eyes as he stared the Shade Princess down and spoke with succinct brutality.
‘Fuck. You.’
His oath was punctuated with a mighty roar followed by the great boom of beating wings, and all eyes snapped skyward. A cold shadow rippled overhead as a monstrous form glided over the treetops, blotting out the light of the stars and moon high above.
Ornak laughed, his eyes bright with the promise of violence, and he began backing up, dragging Arian with him. A feral grin twisted her lips as recognition danced in her golden gaze. Alvar too was smirking as he scanned the skies for that dreadful beast.
‘You are so fucked now,’ Ornak taunted. And with that he charged, bringing his axe down on the nearest Darkling. Arian followed, her blades flashing in the firelight, and Darklings died screaming wherever she went. Lightning streaked from Alvar’s upraised palm towards Zorana and Taelyr – striking the ground between them with lethal precision. They were blasted back, Renila’s wrist ripped from Zorana’s grasp as the Shade Princess tumbled away. Taelyr’s hold on her loosened, the dagger knocked from his grip, and Renila slammed her elbow back. He doubled over, winded, and she struggled free. Across the clearing, Zorana was screaming for him to grab her – the command drowned in the din of clashing weapons and magic. Snarling, he staggered to his feet.
Then he was in Renila’s head, wielding her body like a puppet. Magic she didn’t know she had flared at her fingertips – flames of brightest amber streaking towards Arian and Ornak. Arian blocked with a flash of crimson fire, but Ornak roared as the blaze slammed into him. The smell of burning flesh filled the air. Arian was screaming for him, battling her way through the Darklings as she tried to reach him. He was still alive, face down on the ground and struggling to rise. His side was a mess where the magic – her magic, Renila realised with horror – had struck him. Blistered. Charred. Smoking.
A voice she had never heard before, yet somehow recognised, echoed in her head. ‘Shield.’
Taelyr heard it, Casting a barrier of amber flames around them with Renila’s power. Across the clearing, a dome of matching ruby fire flickered to life over Arian and Ornak, while lightning sparked around Alvar. Then another roar shook the ground beneath their feet, and the air rippled as that beast dived from the sky, black flames spewing from its massive maw. The Darklings didn’t even scream before they died. Only Zorana remained standing, her shield of pale green light flickering but holding against the onslaught.
Just as fast as it had started, it was over. Zorana stood in the centre of the smoking clearing, anger spitting from those pale eyes while she took in the carnage. Alvar lunged for Renila, but Taelyr forced her out of reach – used her magic to hold the Immortal off long enough for her to return to him. He was panting from the effort. But there was nothing weak about his grip when he pulled her back against his chest, this time holding her in place with her own amber flames. But before he could reach Zorana, a wall of black flame blazed into life between them.
Wings boomed again, that monstrous shadow engulfing the clearing. A gust of cold air whipped around them, and the earth trembled as the demon landed.
A dragon.
Black as night, monstrous in size. Ferocious-yellow eyes glowed through the shadows, teeth gleaming in the dark as a vicious growl ripped out of it. A blast of heat washed over them, and flames curled and smoked from between snarling jaws. Huge claws – hooked and as long as Renila’s arm – gouged the earth. The rustle of leathery wings opening and closing hissed through the clearing, scales rasping as it shifted where it stood.
Those great eyes were fixed on Taelyr, another snarl of hatred rippling from between bared teeth. But a groan of pain had its massive head swinging away, looking to where Arian was helping Ornak to his feet – his wounded side healed, but brutally scarred.
Pale green light flashed towards them as Zorana struck. Renila tried to scream out in warning, but there was no need. One of those mighty wings flared out, and the Shade’s killing blow slammed into a wall of leathery hide. The dragon did not so much as flinch. In fact, an eerily human laugh echoed from its mouth as it turned those baleful eyes on the Shade Princess.
Zorana held her ground, no hint of fear on her haughty face. ‘Show yourself.’
The dragon considered her for a moment, and Renila thought for a moment that it had every intention of killing the Shade. But instead, it closed its wings in tight to its body and … Changed.
It was slow. Sluggish, almost. The dragon disappearing as the magic surrounding it grew, the silhouette blurring and shifting. Then light receded, and instead of a dragon, Renila found herself staring at a woman.
She was crouched low, panting from the effort of the Change, her face obscured by a peaked hood pulled down over her eyes. The rest of her face was hidden behind a scarf that covered her nose and mouth. In fact, Renila could hardly see anything of the stranger; she was dressed head-to-toe in black leather.
Taking a deep breath, the woman stood, her long, black coat swirling at her knees, gloved hands brushing the myriad weapons about her hips. Her sturdy boots reached her mid-thigh, and Renila saw more weapons strapped to her legs. There was a sword across her back, along with a bow and quiver full of arrows.
Something in Renila’s chest tightened, as if in recognition. It was like the sensation of eerie familiarity she’d felt when she’d first laid eyes on Alvar, and yet this pull was so much stronger. She felt, more than saw, the stranger’s eyes fix on her and shivered under the force of that predatory gaze.
Raising a hand to her face, the woman lowered her scarf. Revealed flame-like tattoos of pitch-black swirling over her jaw and down her neck, and lips twisting in an arrogant smirk. Then her other hand swept up to remove her hood.
Renila had to force herself not to scream.
Nightwalker. The woman was a Nightwalker. Her bronze skin was drab and muted, as if she had not seen the sun in a hundred yea
rs. Her eyes were black as the night she was cursed to. Her hair too was jet-black, bound in braids back from her face and cascading over her shoulders in a mass of wild ebony waves. Those fiery tattoos curled up over her forehead and cheekbones. And even her fingers, it transpired, as she tugged her gloves off with her teeth. Renila could not shake the peculiar sensation that she’d seen those marks before. A sensation that became a certainty when her gaze snagged on the Nightwalker’s left hand. On the familiar ring there, the jewel held between two outstretched wings. Erion’s ring. The one she’d given him the day he was born. But instead of a red gem, it was set with a shard of glittering obsidian. As though the curse had not only tainted her body, but all she touched.
At Renila’s back, Taelyr trembled with fear.
Renila didn’t blame him. That dreadful gaze was fixed on him, cold and hungry.
‘Resari,’ he breathed, his voice shaking.
Beside them, Zorana flinched. ‘It can’t be. You’re dead.’
The Nightwalker smirked, black eyes flickering to the Shade Princess. ‘Only on the inside.’
‘The King told us you died – killed by your own people during the Fall.’
An evil grin split that otherwise beautiful face. ‘He lied.’
‘Why?’
The woman didn’t answer. Her attention flickered back to Taelyr, staring him down. Renila could hear his heart thundering in his chest at her back, feel his panicked breath on the back of her neck. Another mind scraped over hers, vast and throbbing with power, like talons raking the mental barriers Taelyr had erected around them both. He shuddered from that touch.
‘Because cursed to endless night, she’s not a threat to him,’ he gasped. ‘But she is to you.’
Resari – Gods, was she really the legendary Kah Resari – chuckled. It was a dark, chilling sound. She glanced at Ornak, her eyes hardening at the sight of his scarred side before turning back to Taelyr. ‘You should have run while you still had the chance, cousin. I might have spared you, for your mother’s sake if nothing else. But you’ve dishonoured her memory. And now … now there is a debt to be paid, and it will be paid in blood.’
‘But are you willing to pay the cost?’ Taelyr breathed, tightening those amber flames around Renila’s throat until she screamed from the pain.
‘There is no price too high,’ Resari breathed, taking a step forward, ‘no cost too steep … nothing I will not give.’
She took another step forward, Arian and Ornak following to her right. Alvar’s gaze met Renila’s, and he smiled sadly, even as he moved to flank Resari on her other side. Arian’s golden eyes caught hers, her lips moving in silent apology.
‘Forgive me,’ she mouthed.
Renila trembled in Taelyr’s arms, suddenly afraid – certain that death now stalked towards her. That terrible presence brushed against her mind once more, whispering to her.
‘It’s alright to be scared. Bravery is not the absence of fear but looking it in the eye and refusing to let it control you. Time to be brave, Renila.’
Renila blinked in surprise, wresting control back long enough to ask, ‘How do I know you?’
‘You tell me.’
Then Resari struck. Taelyr was ripped from Renila’s mind by talons of pure night, even as blackfire and lightning twisted together, streaking towards Zorana. The Shade Princess whirled, vanishing into the air, and the combined might of Resari and Alvar slammed into the ground. Ruby flames caught Renila square in the chest, blasting her and Taelyr backwards. Then Zorana was above them, reaching for them. Renila thrashed, struggling to her feet as she tried to avoid the hand that would steal her away from this place. Taelyr’s hand closed around her throat, only for him to be slammed back by another wave of black flame. His fingers caught her necklace, the fine chain snapping as he was thrown back. Zorana dissipated again, only to appear at his side a heartbeat later, her teeth bared in a furious snarl.
‘So be it,’ she hissed. Pale green light streaked towards them, slamming into barriers of black and red flames. But one bolt found its mark, and the Shade Princess smirked in triumph before melting into the darkness once more, taking Taelyr with her.
Darkness was closing in. Her legs gave way, knees barking in pain as she crashed to the ground and collapsed face-first into the dirt. She was vaguely aware of Alvar screaming her name, but he sounded so far away. Her chest hurt. Not from the crimson flames – those had been little more than a sharp slap compared to this fresh agony. No, this wound was tainted. The touch of Shade magic, twisted and corrupt, burned far worse than the fire that had sprung from Arian’s upraised palm.
Warm, steady hands found her – turning her over, jolting her back to waking for the briefest of moments. Then she was slipping away. Voices echoed above her, filled with despair and regret, but she could not make out the words. She was so cold. So tired. Oblivion beckoned – soothing, peaceful. She wanted to drift away into that quiet embrace.
That other mind caressed her own, gentle now as it soothed away the worst of her pain.
‘She’s at peace,’ it said out loud. Darkness had its claws in her now, dragging her down into the abyss. The voice spoke again, the words echoing down as she drifted away. ‘Burn the body. Let her rise out of ashes.’
And then Renila was gone, welcomed at last into the arms of her death.
Epilogue
The Shade King couldn’t sleep. Moonlight streamed through the open window and a cool breeze stirred the heavy curtains. He lay stretched out in his bed, the silken sheets tangled about his waist while he scowled up at the canopy above him. One hand was behind his head, the other tracing pensive patterns on smooth skin. Jenia twitched beneath his fingertips, mumbling sleepy objections into the pillows. He glanced down, smirking. She was a sight to behold. Naked and draped over both him and his bed, a possessive hand splayed across his chest.
Even after all this time, she still made his heart stop. Petite and fine-boned, with blood-red hair and eyes to match. When he had first set eyes on her, they had been burnished copper with a core of gold – though those were nothing more than a distant memory. But it was not Jenia’s beauty that he had fallen in love with all those years ago. It was her fire. A tempestuous inferno, churning and seething in her black heart … It was hypnotic watching the power warring beneath her skin. Power that simmered even as she slept, sated for now.
He sighed and extricated himself from her sprawling limbs. Her nails dug deep as he prised her hand away, leaving angry red furrows to match his crimson dragon-marks. His Queen in all but name. So greedy. So territorial. Even lost in her dreams she clung so tight. And for once, he was inclined to accommodate her. Her battle with Alexan had been brief but ferocious. Her throat was still tender where the Darkling’s hand had almost crushed the life from her. The King repressed a shudder. The thought of losing her … It would be the end of him.
A flurry of night-kissed wind fluttered through the room, and his dark thoughts were chased from his mind as he watched Jenia’s skin pucker from the cold. He eyed the coverlet they had thrown on the floor, along with the shredded remains of their clothes, but decided against it. The need to warm his lover was likely the only thing that would entice him back to bed. Leaving her to her dreams, he lifted his robe from the hook on the wall and padded from the room on silent feet.
The bedroom gave way to a large and airy sitting room. Their personal dining room lay beyond it, with Jenia’s dressing room to one side (not that she ever used it) and his study to the other. It was towards the latter he strolled, tying the robe about his waist. He paused by the sideboard, pouring himself a healthy measure of amber liquid from the crystal decanter. Anything to quieten the roaring in his mind. He ignored the mirror over the mantle, the reflection it held. Ignored the tall, broad-shouldered and imposing figure with dark hair and peculiar, pale eyes. Eyes that still unnerved him.
Taking a long draught, he gazed out the window, looking beyond the city below – across the sea, to the mainland beyond. Towards th
e power he could feel shaking the earth with every step. Power like he had not sensed since the Fall. Not since he’d ensured the only power that would ever threaten him had been broken and buried; ruined beyond all hope of rising. It had pained him to do it. The cost so steep it still haunted him to this day. The price paid in blood to ensure his own survival. Sometimes he wondered if it had been worth it.
Still. What was done was done. There was nothing he could do to change it. Which made this new power all the more unsettling. It could not be her. He’d made sure there was no coming back – had seen the evidence of her curse with his own eyes, had felt no whisper of her power since that day.
Although there had been that one night, a little over twelve years ago now. He frowned. The boy had said he was about twelve. Perhaps … He shook his head. No, he’d studied the boy since his arrival. He was powerful, yes, enormously so. Almost bursting at the seams with untapped potential. Something was repressing it – some magic, no doubt designed to keep it contained, but which instead was killing him. That would need dealt with. Sooner rather than later too. But the boy was not the source of the power that kept him awake at night.
With a heavy sigh, the King slumped down into the chair behind his desk. Papers littered the work surface, one particular letter – the source of his irritation – pinned into the wood by the tip of an obsidian-hilted dagger. He scowled, repressing the snarl that rose to his lips as he wrenched the blade free. The message itself he burned with a wave of his hand. He didn’t need it. They were not words he would forget in a hurry.
Forcing his anger down, he turned his gaze to the map on the wall, running a frustrated hand through his hair. It would take Théon time to clear Illyol, and the Darkling Queens were still an issue. And even without Mazron’s influence, Ciaron was still a problem. Nightwalkers were easily bought. But even cursed, Dragons were fickle and proud – never a good combination. Any way he looked at it, the problem remained the same. He was boxed in. And his list of allies was dwindling. Losing Alexan had been a disappointment, but it was failing, yet again, to retrieve Théon that had hit hardest.
