Battle For The Shadow King (Captive 0f Shadows Book 4)

by Bailey Dark

  Battle for The Shadow King

  Captive of Shadows | Book 4

  Bailey Dark

  Copyright © 2020 by Bailey Dark

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  About the Author

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  Chapter 1

  Briar

  "I want Drogaem's body carefully taken inside." I watch Kane as he brushes the long sleeves of his black jacket, his lips snarling as he eyes the servants who are fearfully moving toward his predecessor's body. "When I come to see him, he better be reverently arranged, like a God should be."

  I stand to the back, my hands lightly intertwined in front of me, my fingers tapping, my body still weak from the voyage. Willem is taking control, ordering the servants in the exact way that I can only assume is a proper succession of handling for dead God. His wings fold tightly behind him, the once vibrant feathers almost dull and flat against his back. He doesn't look up at me, though I wish he would. Despite my dislike for him, on a level that exceeds loathing, I suddenly feel as if he may be my only ally. Willem is smart though, he saw right away, in the boat, that Kane's attitude quickly shifts from moment to moment, and fighting or arguing with him can only lead to bad things. I can't quite figure out if Willem is on his side or playing along out of necessity.

  Kane stands back, his body rejuvenated, his shoulders wide and strong and his teeth clenched, the sides of his jaw flickering in the purple haze of the Underworld. He's just as handsome as he ever was, but there's something I can't put my finger on. It's something that is driving at the center of me. Before the island, before finding Drogaem, there had been a connection that I can only describe as, from the soul. But now, I feel nothing but emptiness, only a whisper of my betrothed still lingering inside of me.

  Kane watches as the body is carefully moved on to a slick, black, marble board surrounded by half a dozen servants. I can tell they're all hiding their fear as well as their struggle to carry the deceased body on such an elaborate creation. I slowly shift on my toes, taking the opportunity to really get a good look at Kane's face as he's preoccupied making sure that no one missteps on their way up to the Castle. His eyes are the same deep midnight darkness, but the flames I'm so used to seeing are absent.

  Kane lets out a deep breath, a small smirk pulling at his lips. It's as if he is proud of himself for the last twenty-four hours that I've endured him. His eyes shift to Willem who looks down, and then over to me. I don't pull my eyes away, and I won't fold to this sudden shift in personality that came out of nowhere. I can tell from the quiver of his lip my stubbornness both angers and excites him. Normally, anything to do with his perfectly bowed pout would send a simmering heat straight into my core, but my nerves are far too wild, and I feel nothing but distrust.

  "I expect the rest of you know what you need to do," he says, stumbling through his words as if he himself isn't really sure how to address us. I hold back the look of confusion that I want to portray, knowing it will only anger him. "I have a lot of work to be done. I demand privacy and silence. I will retreat to the catacombs where Drogaem will be lying in state as he never had a chance to do when he first perished. Hopefully, it won't take long to revive our old God."

  Kane's eyes shift toward me but he keeps a kind smile on his lips. It's the first kind look he's given me since we left Drogaem's tomb. That familiar flutter in my chest skips, and a small inkling of hope simmers deep down. But I don't understand. For all the things that Kane and Willem have told me about Drogaem, he seems like the last person anyone would want to bring back from the dead. On our voyage to his tomb, Kane spoke nothing about the revival of his predecessor. He only spoke of the power within the old God's crown, and that was not long before he placed it on his head. But now, a plan is set in motion, one that I can only imagine will threaten the souls of every being across the Underworld, the Land of Light, and even my own former home.

  Willem is the first to leave, ducking his head low and heading toward the castle. The servants follow quickly behind him, and Kane begins to follow. I glance over at my Ladies in Waiting, giving them a silent nod to go ahead of me toward the castle. They curtsy, holding the bottom of their long flowing black dresses, and hurry to catch up with the others.

  I smooth the front of my worn and tattered tunic and move quickly to Kane's side, keeping enough distance that our hands don't touch. There is a longing in me, a need for comfort that I know only Kane can fulfill. I've spent so long fighting myself, trying to decide whether my duty as a daughter was more important than my duty as a bride. But our bond, Kane and I, blossomed on our journey.

  I close my hands into small fists as I walk, forcing myself to refrain from reaching out for him, or his shadows. My voice is stuck in my throat, but as we grow closer to the Castle, I muster the bravery to speak to him. "Kane, when we arrived at the island, you had told me horrible stories about Drogaem. You made it sound as if his death saved the Underworld. So, I'm struggling to understand why you would want to revive him. You have what you wanted to claim, his crown, and the powers attached to it."

  My voice trails off and I continue to keep pace with Kane who walks slower than he has in the past when his mind is set on one particular task. Maybe he's slowing his pace for me, giving space for us to talk with each other. But he doesn't respond to me. He keeps his eyes forward on the castle, his face firm with focus and drive.

  I wonder if he's heard me at all, so I continue. "I fear that the revival of this God is somehow attached to…"

  Kane stops in his tracks, turning toward me. His eyes shift from the castle, toward the sky, and fall quickly on me. The muscles in his arms twitch and he stands for just a moment, taking me in. My heart begins to race, but I keep my shoulders back and my head high. I'm not sure whether he will kiss me or curse me, but I will not move. As his bride, and his future Queen, I find it necessary that I look out for his best interest. Not only that, but I crave the connection that we once had.

  He moves quickly, so fast that I don't even see it coming. His hand snaps up and grabs me by the chin, lifting my face upward until our eyes meet. He peers down at me with his onyx stare, and it's almost hard to keep steady. My breath catches in my chest, and his familiar rough touch holds strongly to my face. For a moment I feel entranced. Though his eyes are nothing but black, as I peer into them, it's as if I can see the whole of the Underworld and all the souls trapped within.

  His chuckle shakes me and my eyes shift to his lips. They are still smiling, a kindness drifting in and out as he seems to struggle keeping his newly acquired foul temper at bay. It's an unsettling feeling, and I slowly move my hand around my thigh and up my
back toward my dagger tucked beneath my shirt. I wrap my small hands around the cool steel and steady myself for whatever is coming next. But as he smiles at me, his fingers soften and he reaches up with his other hand, running the back of it gently across my other cheek.

  Just his touch, the cool clam of his skin against mine releases my grip on my blade. A soft sigh parts my lips just slightly and I tilt my head toward his touch. My eyes slowly dance back to his, and though the comfort of his attempt is far better than the wicked words he has spoken, he still keeps his distance. "Don't worry about me little mortal, I am feeling just fine. In fact, I feel better than I ever have before. Things are no longer going to work in dismay. Our next steps will dictate the future of the Underworld. Do your duties as my bride and you'll see the glory that I bring."

  He releases me and walks off. I stay standing there, letting him head inside of the castle, gathering myself. I press my hand to my stomach and pull my shoulders back, looking out at the darkening sky. I want to believe him. I want to believe that our bond is not broken. I want to believe that nothing has changed and that Kane’s clarity comes from the immense powers that he not only naturally has but has acquired from Drogaem's crown. But I struggle with it, still feeling that ball knotted in the pit of my stomach. Still feeling that fear that lingers back at the surface. We have come so far only to backtrack.

  Turning toward the castle, I watch as Kane disappears inside. I close my eyes for a moment as I feel the warm air cascading across my skin. Flashes of faces run through my mind, the faces of those that Kane killed on our journey. The last face lingers, and while I want to open my eyes and make it disappear, I feel a duty to focus on that little child, an innocence that has long left me, or Kane, or any of the others associated with the Three.

  As the boy's face bloodies in my mind, and I watch his small body fall to the ground, I wrap my arms around me, feeling a shiver trickle down my spine. I force my eyes open and try to calm my breathing. I have to remember that it wasn't that long ago that Kane had promised my father he would break me. I thought things had changed but now I wonder if maybe I am being nothing but a fool. I wonder if now that Kane has what he needs from me, he will return to the monster that I haven't seen since I arrived in the Underworld.

  No…

  I shake my head, unsure of whether the whisper of a word is inside my head or nothing more than the tricks of the wind. From the front of the castle my ladies line up and wait for me. I breathe in deeply and shake the suspicious fears from my face. Whatever link I have to Kane needs to stay walled in. If I'm going to find out the truth, he cannot know of my fear or suspicion. I only hope that wherever his plan takes us, it's with noble intention as he says. Otherwise, Drogaem could be the end of everything.

  Chapter 2

  Briar

  The darkness continues to stretch out in all directions, and I linger, clinging onto my own consciousness, manifesting my body just to feel a thread of normalcy. Even in the body that doesn't exist, I'm cold and weak, a gift from Drogaem in order to keep me encapsulated in my own prison. My soul flickers in and out of dream and awake, making it hard to understand what is real and what isn't.

  I can feel a settling, a calming within Drogaem. I reach back and press my hand against what feels like a wall, pushing myself to my feet. Looking down, I think I can feel the floor beneath me, but there is nothing but darkness, a void so rich I feel as though I'm hovering in nothingness. But Drogaem's calmness brings my alert nature to the foreground. I strain to see through him, to understand what is happening. It's hard, and when I try to summon my shadows they are nowhere to be found.

  Within the hull of my infinite crater a hazy picture appears. It's like looking through foggy glass, the movements understandable but I can't pinpoint who is who. Drogaem's voice echoes out around me. "Don't worry about me little mortal, I am feeling just fine. In fact, I feel better than I ever have before. Things are no longer going to work in dismay. Our next steps will dictate the future of the Underworld. Do your duties as my bride and you'll see the glory that I bring."

  I don't even need to see to know that it's Briar standing there, Drogaem's evil touch on her skin, his powers leaching into her, trying to hook her using her feelings for me. The anger boils out, and I can feel every inch of me shaking as if my physical body is real. I scream out but my voice just echoes, on and on into the void. I take a deep breath and focus in on what Drogaem is allowing me to see, knowing he's only showing me because he wants to torture me. Being inside of my body, he knows what my feelings for Briar are and he's using those to twist my mind even further.

  I stand still, picturing her, remembering how it feels to touch her face, to tap into her desires and her emotions. I can still feel the thin flicker of a flame in my chest, that part of Briar and I that is connected. It's weak, but I can still feel it. There's a rush of hope, fear, and even confusion. I'm desperate to contact her, but my attempts are futile. I don't want to tap into her too much because I don't want Drogaem to know that we are in fact connected by our souls.

  I do everything I can think of, trying desperately to push a message out toward her. Trying to connect with Briar in any way shape or form. I need her to know that she's in danger. I need her to know that it's not me, not really. All around me the sound of Drogaem's laugh begins to reverberate, shaking against my eardrums. The window to the outside world collapses and a blast of energy slams into my consciousness. My imagined body flies back, hitting the wall that I've spent, what feels like an eternity, clawing against. I drop to the ground, anger swirling through me. Clenching my fists, I lean my head back and scream.

  "No!"

  * * *

  Briar

  I curl my fingers into the soft silk beneath me as I gasp and groan, my body twitching, unable to fathom the separation between the dreamworld and the Underworld. My body flails back and forth within my dream, my arms moving right and left, my eyes tightly shut. But even through the protection of my eyelids, the searing light blinds me. It radiates all around, purifying everything that it touches. The heat surges into my chest and travels along every vein and every muscle in my body. I shudder, my fingers pressing against my skin as they move up and cup my ears.

  The screaming echoes all around me, but I cannot see what it bounces off of. I cannot see where it comes from. These screams are not bellows of pain and agony, but instead of rage. Anger so deep and so thick that it threatens to take me over. I stop moving and breathe in deeply, remembering the sensation from when I was approaching Drogaem's crypt.

  As I center myself, I keep my eyes shut and try to listen to the voices all around me. The familiar tone of their melody forces my eyes open for just a moment, but the light is far too bright. I gasp, cinching them shut again and putting my arm up to shield my face. The last time I felt this heat I had Kane, my protector, shrouding me before I was able to burn out. This time I am all alone, feeling the anger, hearing the raw and unkept sounds of rage, and weakening from the brilliance that cloaks me and everything around me.

  As the screaming continues, the voices shout back and forth with unintelligible words, the rage begins to sink further into my core. My breath increases and that all too familiar fear begins to slide into my psyche, slithering around my mind like a serpent. The feeling is intense and continues to build moment by moment. I have a feeling, a notion that I'm supposed to know what's going on. That I'm supposed to see what's going on, but I cannot find the strength to do it.

  As the pressure within me piles to a fevered pitch, I slap my hands over my ears and drop to my knees, letting out my own bellowing scream. It flows out of me and all around me, muting the voices and drowning out my own fear.

  I gasp, jolting awake. My eyes blink, no longer fighting the light, but now fighting the darkness. My breath is heavy in my chest and I reach over, lighting the lantern that sits next to my bed. The flicker of the fire dances across the walls, slowly helping my mind return to my chambers. Carefully I roll over and stare up at the cei
ling as I catch my breath. My skin is damp and clammy and though my chamber room is warm, I feel a chill whisper along my skin.

  Carefully I pull myself into a sitting position, finding the bed beneath me soaking with sweat. I turn my body, sliding to the edge of the bed, and I dangle my feet over the side. My sight is still fuzzy, and I allow myself a moment to collect what is left of my strength. A flashing reflection of light catches my attention and I pick up the lantern and tenderly walk barefoot across the thick carpeted floor to my dressing table. Holding the lantern over the surface, I find my dagger tucked neatly in its sheath, hidden partly beneath the clothes I had taken off earlier to bathe.

  As I reach for the blade, I notice my hands are trembling. I think about Kane's touch, even just his shadow intertwined with my fingers. It was comforting, a solace when nothing more could be done. But Kane isn't here, it's just me. I pick up the knife and slide it part way out of its sheath, looking at the sharp reflective blade. My fingers tingle as a burst of energy sparks from the handle up my arm and into my chest. That energy pops and sizzles inside of me, cascading a flow of anxiety and fear into my heart.

  This energy isn't from Kane, or Willem, or Drogaem even. This anxiety inducing firework comes directly from my dagger. Almost instantly I know exactly what I need to do. Whatever is going on with Kane, he is not himself. At least, he's not the man that took so much time attempting to convince me he was. The man that I had spoken to just hours before would have taken my dagger had he known about it. But Kane did know about it.