The Throne of Broken Bones (Weapon of Fire and Ash Book 3)

by Brittany Matsen

  Emma’s lips parted. Marriage? Had she planned to wait for marriage before having sex? Maybe… Even with her mother’s overprotectiveness, an opportunity could have arisen, if she really wanted it. But she hadn’t. In the back of her mind, life after leaving her mother’s house would allow her to discover whether or not she wanted to wait. Assuming she met the right guy. But now…

  With her mother gone and the world in danger of being taken over by the entire Shediem race, things like sex and marriage hadn’t registered on her list of priorities.

  “I’m not ready to get married,” she said. She was barely eighteen, and she had known Blaze for only a few months.

  He laughed, a warm, rich sound that made her heart flip over in her chest.

  “I wasn’t asking you to marry me, Emma. I just wanted you to know, that if we should ever share a bed in that way, it would only be when both of us were ready.”

  She nodded, staring down at the blanket scrunched up in her fists.

  Gathering her in his embrace again, he lay back and she forced herself to relax, trying not to think about how she’d just thrown herself at him.

  “Sleep now,” he said.

  And she did.

  Emma awoke to the scent of pine and snow, cocooned in warmth and feeling slightly better than she had the day before. Blaze’s fingers lazily played with strands of her hair. His voice was warm and husky with sleep when he said, “Happy Christmas, Emma.”

  Her throat tightened, choking off any response she might have made.

  “Did you sleep okay?”

  She forced a single word out. “Yeah.” Her vocal cords felt charred and strained, her mouth dry. Clearing her throat, she added,“Did you?”

  “Not terrible,” he answered.

  They remained silent for several moments. Then Emma said, “About last night—”

  “Don’t trouble yourself. Truly, what you’ve gone through— what you’ll continue to go through—is awful. Losing a parent is tragic, especially when they’re so young.”

  She nodded, looking down at the plain, navy duvet. “I’m still sorry.”

  He pressed a kiss to the top of her head.“Accepted.”

  Blaze stilled, and she felt his attention move to the door seconds before a knock sounded. He slid out from under her before grabbing the shirt she had flung to the end of the bed last night, and slipped it back on, covering the golden, chiseled perfection that was his chest. With each button he fastened, Emma had to resist the urge to pout.

  Noticing where her attention was, his eyes visibly heated, but he didn’t speak.

  Gertie entered seconds later, holding a silver platter with an arrangement of foods on it. Her eyes were red-rimmed, a sadness in them that Emma felt in her every molecule.

  Gertie didn’t smile when she sat the tray on the bed, casting a look of sympathy at her.

  “Thank you,” Emma said, wishing for another hug, one that would ease the tight knot of pain in her chest.

  “Thought you might be hungry.”

  Blaze nodded.“Thank you.”

  Gertie returned the nod, then headed for the open door. At the threshold, she paused and turned to meet Emma’s gaze. “If you need anything, child, don’t hesitate to ask.”

  Then she departed, closing the door behind her with a soft snick.

  Blaze reached over a heaping pile of mini donuts for a sliced English muffin, before slathering it with butter and jam. Emma stared at the closed door feeling her pain intensify.

  He held the muffin out to her.“Eat.”

  She briefly considered arguing but thought better of it, and accepted with a small smile. All her stomach could manage was a few nibbled bites.

  He set the muffin down and wiped his hands on his pristine slacks.“I’ll be right back.”

  Emma sipped her coffee, watching with furrowed brows while he stalked to the set of doors that joined their rooms. He pulled open the unlocked doors, stepped inside, and returned only a moment later carrying her dagger.

  She lit up with joy.“You found it!”

  He smiled, nodding.“I kept it, waiting for the right moment to give it back. When you returned, I could tell something was off, so I waited…But since it’s Christmas day, I figured this was as good a gift as any.”

  Emma nodded, then frowned.“But I didn’t get you anything.”

  Blaze shook his head.“I don’t want anything but you, Emma.”

  Her heart swelled, causing tears that she quickly blinked away. She took the beautifully crafted blade from his outstretched hand, admiring the tiny roses and thorns carved into the hilt. “Thank you.” She was glad he hadn’t given it to her while she was under her father’s control. The unimaginable pain she might have caused with such a weapon made her stomach turn.

  “You’re welcome,” he answered gruffly before running a hand through his hair. “We can start training with it as soon as you want.”

  She nodded again, setting the dagger in her lap.“What did Axel say when you told him about your sister?”

  Blaze seemed to flinch.“He doesn’t know yet.”

  Emma’s jaw dropped at the information. “Why not?” She’d been so consumed with her mother’s death, she hadn’t noticed or cared that Axel was absent.

  “He was caught with items that indicate he is responsible for weakening the wards and allowing Shediem to attack the compound.”

  She gasped.“When?”

  “Right after we returned. We triggered the alarm so Gertie and I could search the rooms.”

  She clapped a hand over her mouth.“So where is he now?”

  Blaze rolled his neck, no doubt trying to alleviate the tension coiled through his body. “He’s in the basement. I was able to suspend his trial for a few days after everything with your mother, but I won’t be able to hold it off for much longer.”

  Her words were hushed when she asked,“What will happen to him if they find him guilty?”

  His steely gaze locked onto hers, and she sensed his own inner turmoil as easily as her own.

  “If he’s found guilty, he’ll be put to death.”

  28

  Levaroth

  I t had been centuries since Levaroth had been to the king’s private estate. Since it was located in the heart of the Pit, few were willing to get close. Even for Shediem—immortal

  creatures that thrived in chaos—it was too overwhelming. A nightmare especially for those that fed on emotion. Like a broken bottle of rich perfume, the air was thick with terror. It made his nose wrinkle. From the looks on the princes’ faces, they were similarly affected. Beside Asmodeus, at least two dozen children—ranging from eight to preteen—that looked entirely human stood still. Dressed in black robes embroidered with silver and red thread, the small soldiers had vacant eyes.

  The Anakeem, a race of hybrids gifted with extraordinary powers.At that thought, something twinged in his mind, sending a jolt of pain through his skull. He rubbed at the spot, and whatever he’d been thinking about floated away.

  Prince Amon, who couldn’t be bothered to leave his harem back at his mansion, wore a sour expression even while the halfdressed, giggling females stroked his bare chest. His eyes glittered like rubies as he smirked at Levaroth with triumph. As though he knew something Levaroth did not.

  More Shediem of lower ranks began to appear, crowding the stone courtyard. The sky was black and starless, the area around them lit only by pits where cobalt-blue flames danced at least five feet high, randomly placed throughout the courtyard. Stone pillars surrounded them, reaching up to the dark abyss. Most of them were crumbling and decrepit. Nothing lasted in the Pit. Nothing grew here. Nothing natural, anyway.

  He recalled the vibrant, lush plant life and starry nights on Earth but dismissed them all with a scoff. There was nothing the Earth held that they would not soon possess. Every star and distant planet would exist because the king, Nakosh, desired it.

  Sheol had its benefits. Like the fact that it did not have “weather.” No freak snows
torms, no hurricanes, no tornadoes. Thus, it was colorless.And rotting. It was where they were meant to rot. Sheol was their eternal punishment, as well as punishment for the wicked.

  There was a lake. The lake of damnation. Where Nickor and other creatures lived. The same lake that surrounded them on the island the king resided on. It was a murky grey and stagnant. From the pungent scent of decay and blood, Levaroth knew the beasts of the deep had crawled up from their depths to join their gathering.

  Their unholy group spoke amongst themselves as if meeting in the center of their world were an everyday occurrence. Asmodeus and Mammon leaned together, discussing something in hushed tones. Levaroth scanned over the basin of crackling flames to his left. When everyone had supernatural hearing, it was imperative you didn’t overhear a conversation you weren’t supposed to. And they certainly looked as if they did not want to be heard.

  A smooth deep brown shoulder moved beside Levaroth, and he turned, noticing the general’s rarely used human form. Levaroth blinked.

  “Tlahaz.” The man who was not a man dipped his head by way of greeting. A headful of black dreads was tied on the top of his head, spilling down to his ears. How odd, Levaroth mused. Tlahaz’s faux brown eyes flashed gold, then his already impressive built expanded, ivory spikes protruding from his skin that dulled to a leathery grey.

  “Been to Earth then?” Levaroth asked with a smug grin. Tlahaz grunted.

  “Still not much for their languages, I take it.”

  The general rolled his golden eyes. “They are hairless apes

  capable of speech.” Though something flickered in his gaze that Levaroth couldn’t decipher. “Indeed. But they have their uses.” He cast a glance at the near-naked human women pawing at Amon.“And their beauties.”

  Levaroth felt Tlahaz’s body go rigid, noting it with mild curiosity. Perhaps Tlahaz had sampled some of the beauty Earth had to offer. “They will soon be dead or enslaved. Their beauty will matter not.”

  Levaroth didn’t want to point out that the beautiful among them would be the first to suffer, forced to entertain his kind until their feeble hearts gave out. Earth would be a blackened smudge beneath the Shediem princes’ thumbs.

  But first, he’d kill the Shediem-Slayer.

  His vision streaked bloodred and his fists clenched.

  When the haze receded, Levaroth saw Tlahaz watching him. There was something off about his comrade.

  Without another word, Tlahaz turned and melted into the crowd, finding a pillar somewhere in the shadows to hide until his master arrived.

  Black mist snaked along the floor, weaving between every creature standing in the dilapidated courtyard. Silence descended upon them. They felt their king draw near. Inky black tendrils slithered and swirled into place on a raised platform, taking the shape of a man. Levaroth knew that even for them, it was safer for him to appear in his human skin. His true form was far too terrible; unleashing it even in his lair would cause catastrophic consequences. There was a reason he was named World Breaker.

  But his human skin was safe enough to display for them all. He was tall and lean, every bit of him sharp angles, his cruel eyes cutting through the space and demanding submission. In unison, every creature bowed.

  A chilling smile tilted the king’s lips.“Welcome, my children. My brothers.” His eyes sought the five princes, who looked up one by one to acknowledge his attention.

  The space was packed with every level of Shediem, the breezeless air stifling with churning violence. After they all rose at the king’s command, they waited, enraptured.

  “For millennia, our kind have hunted in the shadows, unable to allow our true selves to be seen.To be known. Most of us have remained in Sheol for the majority of our existence, fearing the filthy angel-born brats that hunt us.”

  Tremors of agreement and grunts of outrage lifted from those surrounding Levaroth. The living shadows that curled around Nakosh almost protectively swirled faster, caressing the king’s lithe body in answer.

  His voice rang with power.“The time of the Giborim is at an end. We will slaughter their numbers and the kingdom of Sheol will reign on Earth!”

  The Shediem cheered so loudly, the ground shook. Every prince raised their fist into the air, the visage of their power glowing and lighting the space. Another surge of bloodlust snaked through Levaroth’s veins, and he saw only one face.

  One woman.

  The Shediem-Slayer.

  Kill her.

  King Nakosh waited for the crowd to quiet again. His voice took on an eerie, ominous quality as he said,“The one with the blood to unify us all has given the ultimate sacrifice, and that sacrifice will carve out a new rule.” His silver eyes pierced the silent crowd, landing on Levaroth. A snarl rumbled in his throat.

  Then Nakosh looked out on all his creatures. “Princes, I release you from your chains. It is time to place your kingdoms on Earth.”

  The roars of excitement and the thrill of bloodshed filled the place. Shediem began to disappear, and when the first prince shed his bond to their world, the ground trembled and bolts of vibrant energy split the sky like fire shooting along a line of gasoline. Levaroth’s ears rang. The second prince left, then a third; Sheol mourned its loss with thunderous booms and streaking light.

  Asmodeus pulled Levaroth away with him, but before he was lifted from his homeland, he caught sight of the king’s dark, liquid silver eyes locked on him.

  29

  Emma

  E ach morning when Emma awoke, she and Blaze trained until her limbs shook and her mind became blissfully blank. Though her flames burned beneath her skin when

  she and the Giborim sparred, she kept them down. He taught her how to hold the knife. How to attack best at close proximity and how to dodge weapons directed at her.

  Only Blaze ever called it quits—which Emma at first thought he did to prevent her from pushing herself into unconsciousness. But she realized from his heavy breathing and his skin bright with exertion that he might actually be exhausted too.

  After they parted ways to shower, they’d have breakfast in her room, then walk down to their morning meeting. But since her mother’s funeral, all was quiet. No abductions, and no more attacks on the compound.

  Emma tried to keep the nervousness she felt each and every morning at bay, when there was still no news besides a letter from the cave giants in the south that they would defend against the Shediem. Constance’s and Taryn’s covens both arrived, preferring to set up camp on opposite sides of the grounds.

  With the Shediem’s silence, the regional leaders used their meeting time to either argue about when Axel’s trial should be held, or grill her for information. She was happy to keep the topic away from Blaze’s brother and provide any information that could help them. The constant questioning and reliving the horrors she’d faced grated on her, though. What does Sheol look like? What do the princes look like in their human forms? What do they look like in their true forms? How do your powers work?

  She detailed her murder of the Prince of Greed, Belphegor, and the eerie shadowy king who looked on in delight. There were certain things she didn’t say; for instance, she didn’t tell anyone about the crown the king of Sheol left for her. Or the dreams she shared with Levaroth. Though Blaze’s hard stare seemed to find each and every piece she kept to herself stamped on her forehead for the way his jaw clenched.

  The morning after her mother’s funeral, she told them about her father’s hybrids. Every face had morphed into one of horror and rage—Blaze’s included. While she spoke, his icy blue eyes stayed fixed on her, and every inch of his corded, muscular body tensed.

  She didn’t, however, share that Haddie was pregnant. After the meeting, when Blaze had thawed from his statue form, he’d grabbed her hand and squeezed it gently. That’s when she spoke the words that turned his kind expression to stone again.

  His throat had bobbed, then without a word, he’d stalked past her with jerky strides. She didn’t see him the rest of the d
ay. Not that she blamed him. The news was horrifying and devastating. It haunted her because she hadn’t gotten Haddie out in time. But thinking about the half-Shediem child in her womb only led to thoughts about how it got there. Who put it there…

  Such thoughts led to rage that made her skin heat and her veins sear with power. Power that strained for release.

  Since that day, Blaze had been quiet. Anger and something darker churned in his stormy eyes. Emma let him be, offering small smiles and gentle touches when she could. When they trained, she allowed him to unleash on her, just as she did on him. Although, to be fair, all she had to do was touch him when her control was frayed and he’d catch fire, so it wasn’t quite accurate to say that she unleashed fully.

  In her afternoons she checked on Breanna and Isaac.Already she noticed how much Breanna’s son was growing. Breanna too had begun to lose the sharpness of her limbs. And Dominic’s attentions toward her never wavered. Often, Emma would find her friend in the gardens, she and Isaac bundled up against the harsh winter and Dominic strolling beside her. Though he was intense around her, he never entered her rooms. Emma had to admit she enjoyed seeing the way Breanna’s eyes lit up whenever Dominic was near, the shadows of past trauma receding for a while.

  Dominic was always quick to part with Breanna when Emma was around, allowing the two of them time to talk. They spent their evenings together, and ate dinner in Breanna’s room, watching movies while Breanna taught her how to crochet.

  It kept Emma’s grief at bay.

  At least until the night, when she’d climb the marble staircase and feel the weight begin to settle on her chest yet again.

  Her nightmares had resumed with full force: always her father’s glowing red eyes and her mother’s lifeless broken body speared above her. When Emma inevitably awoke screaming, Blaze would come and wrap her in his arms. But they didn’t speak. Neither of them had to— being in each other’s company was enough.