Mikail couldn't say he disagreed, though it was questionable whether the deity would've wanted to help the demon—or if he even deserved mercy.
Arias had given him a chance to prove he was trustworthy, and he'd squandered it by leading the nameless to Satorala. Had that plan actually succeeded, the amount of damage done would've been immeasurable, and there was also no way to know what kind of harm he'd caused just working for Rothario before this had happened.
So it was truly doubtful Gyles had any divine favor to call upon.
Instead, it seemed the time had come for the demon to pay the price.
• • •
Arias was coming, and Gyles had little hope of escape.
Not only were the Vrellan caverns largely unfamiliar, the magical ward placed upon The Hamlet to prevent teleportation was a huge obstacle. But the ward's boundary had to end somewhere, and he frantically sought it out while hoping the fight between Empress Dalia's guards and the nameless would last long enough to provide the chance.
His legs moved more swiftly than he'd believed them capable, breaths coming in quick huffs while passing through one cave after another. On the way, he tried not to consider the Ancient who was likely to be on his trail, or how he'd respond to this treachery, knowing a level head was necessary to have any hope of surviving.
And surviving was possible. It had to be.
“Gyles … .”
Arias' deep voice emanated from the darkness without warning, seeming to come from all directions, and Gyles' boots skid across the gravelly floor in a bid to stop. At the same time, his gaze darted forward and back to locate the source, yet there was no sign of Arias in sight.
Sweat beaded his brow during the silence that followed, uncertainty plaguing his mind. Had he imagined that voice? Become so desperate for escape that he'd spooked himself?
Deciding that had to be the case, he attempted to teleport, but the magic warding the caverns held him firmly in place.
“Are you looking for an exit?” Arias asked, this time from somewhere nearby. “Because that's not quite it.”
Gasping, Gyles started running in the opposite direction, but for all his determination, something deep down told him it was pointless. The Ancient had a pass to teleport through the caves at will, meaning speed wouldn't be enough.
Still, he had to try, taking a left when the tunnel forked into two paths—only to find Arias standing just ahead of him.
Instead of skidding to a stop this time, Gyles ceased running so abruptly he tripped, knees smacking into the rocky ground before immediately scrambling to turn and move right instead.
Panting as he went, he was soon met with an unexpected development. Somehow, the further into the tunnel he got, the darker it became, engulfing his vision in blinding pitch.
Forced to stop once more, the only sounds were that of his breathing as he squinted in attempt to see even a hint of the rock walls—but it didn't work. Absolutely nothing was visible, and for a Perosian who was at home in darkness, the situation was both surprising, and incredibly distressing.
Heart hammering in his chest for reasons unrelated to his frantic run, Gyles held out his hands with uncertain steps forward, blindly reaching for anything that might show him a way out. Yet there was nothing to be found but the floor beneath his feet, and the empty void ratcheted up his fear until he gasped when his left palm met rock.
Realizing he was next to the wall of the tunnel, he exhaled in relief, thrusting his right hand toward it in the hopes of using the wall as a guide. But instead of rock, his fingers were met with a much softer material, like … fabric.
“I'd tell you how pointless it is to run, but I think you've known all along.”
As if burned by fire, the demon jerked backwards so quickly he fell to the floor, immediately backing away. Simultaneously, Arias' figure emerged into view, the only visible sight in an empty sea of shadow.
With each step the tall Ancient took toward him, his black robes wafted around his boots like smoke, his arms folded into his wide sleeves as he stared down with an unreadable expression.
In turn, Gyles did the only thing he could think to do.
Beg.
“P-please! Don't k-kill me!”
Finally, Arias gave a mild sign of emotion by pursing his lips. “First, you beg me for a chance at redemption, and now, you're begging for your life. Perhaps this means I didn't make myself clear when I stated the terms of our arrangement.”
“You did! And I know I don't—”
“Then I wonder if you considered how many lives would've been lost had your plans to lead the nameless to Satorala been successful,” he interrupted. “How many would've begged to be spared just as you're doing now?”
Immediately, Gyles wracked his mind for some answer, desperate to plead his case, lie if necessary, anything to escape Arias' wrath.
Yet he was rendered speechless when the Ancient's black irises expanded to encompass his eyes until they were two, empty voids. In turn, a strange sensation swept over Gyles that seemed to emanate from Arias' mere presence, one that couldn't be put into words except to say it was powerful.
The result left him in a stupor as Arias remarked, “I'm not without sympathy, Gyles, even remorse, but you knew the cost of treachery all along, and never took a moment to think how others would pay for it as well.”
After a brief pause, the Ancient concluded almost sadly, “Now you will.”
Inexplicably, answers came to Gyles regarding questions he'd never considered, a stream of images flooding his mind. Each came more quickly than the last, a barrage of knowledge and experience bombarding him with all of the pain, grief, and suffering he'd caused others through his own actions.
An agonized scream echoed around him in response—his scream—and as the anguish intensified, only one thought remained at the center of his mind.
It can't be … I can't believe I did this to them … .
To him.
CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN
♦
Satorala
One Week Later
“With all that's been happening, I haven't had a chance to ask how things are, Miss Kivsey. How are you settling in?”
Smiling, Kivsey contemplated her answer while gazing out at the bustling city square visible through the window of Gallos' office in the Council Chamber. Though the sights and sounds still seemed foreign, they were growing more familiar with each day that passed, and so far, the decision to live in Satorala wasn't disappointing in the least.
“It's still a little surreal, but I'm adjusting,” she replied, taking a seat across from the Chancellor's desk while he shuffled through a few papers.
“That's good. Isn't Mikail returning from Terra today as well?”
She gladly nodded in confirmation. Three days ago, her mate left for Terra to gather her personal belongings and bring them to Ithelyon. It wasn't an urgent task, and Kivsey wanted him to wait until she could tag along—sadly, there was too much to do concerning her new ambassadorial role with the Dok'aal to offer the time it would take to travel.
But he believed she'd settle into his home more easily if she had her own familiar belongings around. So he'd opted to go with another Warlord who was curious to see the mortal realm, and the only silver lining was that his absence had been helpful to her in focusing on preparing for her new occupation.
All the same, she was certainly eager for his return. Perhaps three days wasn't a horrible wait, but it was getting tiresome being separated for prolonged periods. So Kivsey looked forward to the moment when things settled down and they could spend some time alone together without being interrupted.
While shuffling through his work, the Chancellor seemed to be aware of the matter as well because he looked up to mention, “I'm sure he'll return as soon as possible, and then you'll both have a moment to breathe. In fact, it's a shame he didn't wait. The matter of acquiring your personal effects might've been easier to accomplish by taking advantage of the Council's plans.�
�
Kivsey could admit to having the same thought after their earlier conference. Today was her first official day working in direct contact with the Council, and she'd just departed their meeting with a Perosian delegation where several matters were brought up for discussion.
From Satorala's relationship with the Empire, to the new Terran Order of Dok'aal and the possible benefits of establishing a few portal spheres in the city for quicker travel, there hadn't been much time for leisure. In fact, an unexpected message from Empress Dalia delivered by her delegation proved the regent hadn't forgotten Kivsey and Mikail's efforts to protect Satorala—nor was she letting it go without offering a proper reward.
Kivsey didn't know what to think, and wasn't certain how Mikail would react to the news, either. But she was definitely eager to find out, informing the Chancellor, “I'm hoping he's home already just so I can tell him the news. I know he won't expect to hear that the Council's planning to establish a Terran portal sphere in the city, anyway.”
Gallos nodded in agreement. “That's why the Council wanted to discuss it. We know our people will be highly reluctant to allow such a direct means of travel to Satorala from any world without proper security in place, which is why I asked you to come. You know we want the Terran sphere to be regulated by the Order of Dok'aal you're trying to establish, but you haven't mentioned what type of interest our people have shown in it.”
Realizing he was right, and she hadn't actually offered any information on how things were shaping up, she readily qualified, “Actually, they've shown a good bit. Nevan's helping, and she's introduced me to several people who've all been extremely curious. Some have also volunteered to help organize affairs, so I'm sorting them out and trying to decide what we need to get this Order started, that is, aside from a name.”
Gallos gave a slow nod, his expression contemplative as if thinking things over before suggesting, “If that's the case, you should compile a list of people so the Council can make suggestions of the most qualified individuals to help with whatever tasks you need.”
All things considered, that would definitely make things easier. Kivsey never expected to be organizing an Order that would represent the interests of an entire race of people, and she wanted to make certain no voice was left unheard. So it seemed like a wise choice to let the Council offer suggestions, and she had no trouble agreeing with the promise of having a list ready as soon as possible.
During her statement, a knock came to the door, and one of Gallos' assistants entered the office at his invitation. In her hand was a stack of envelopes, proving she'd come to deliver some correspondence.
But when the woman noticed Kivsey sitting in the chair, she abruptly stated, “Oh, I was just on my way to see you. A letter arrived from Terra today with your name on it.”
“Terra?” she asked, wondering if the sealed, white envelope the woman produced from her stack could've been from Mikail.
The notion prompted her to take it eagerly, though her heart sank to consider that he may have written simply to alert her of some delay and wouldn't be home for a few days more.
Yet, in flipping the letter over to see her name written on the back, Kivsey's enthusiasm dimmed for an entirely different reason.
“Oh my god,” she started in surprise, “it's from my mother.”
There was a curious expression on the Chancellor's face as he mentioned in response, “You don't sound too happy about that.”
Scoffing, a lopsided smirk curled one corner of her mouth. “Actually, I don't know how to feel. My mother has … strong opinions about my bonding with Mikail, and our last encounter wasn't entirely friendly. So I have no idea what this might say, but if nothing else,” she muttered, “it'll be interesting.”
“I see,” Gallos returned, accepting his own correspondence from the assistant in adding, “Then I hope it's not upsetting.”
Standing from her seat as the Chancellor started sorting through his mail, Kivsey remarked, “There's only one way to find out. So I'll let you get back to work, unless there was something else you needed?”
“Not at all. Have a safe trip home, Miss Kivsey, and let me know how Mikail responds to Empress Dalia's offer.”
“I will,” she agreed with a smile, departing his office with the same curiosity in mind—and Dalia's offer wasn't the only message that was bound to come as a huge surprise.
In fact, so much had happened in the space of only a few days that Kivsey had no idea where to even start relating the news to Mikail once he returned. Dalia's offer, the portal spheres, and her personal successes starting the Terran Order of Dok'aal were all important matters in themselves.
Topping it off, she now had the letter clutched in her hand to consider, and gazed down at the envelope uncertainly.
What could her mother possibly have to say? It was hard to guess, though Kivsey was willing to bet the message didn't contain anything positive after the way they'd argued before she left. Perhaps Joan was taking some drastic measure like cutting her daughter out of her will, or wanted to try convincing her that the path she'd chosen would end in disaster.
If so, the envelope was much too light to be adequate for the job. It'll take a lot more than a strongly worded letter to ever turn me away from this life.
The thought curved her lips into a smile as she exited the Council Chamber. No matter how busy things became, or how fast she had to run to keep up, Kivsey knew she'd finally found what she'd sought from the very start—a sense of personal satisfaction and purpose.
It'd only been a week since her move to Satorala, but in that time, she hadn't once felt restless or unfulfilled. She was doing meaningful work, her life taking a turn for the better, and nothing anyone said could convince her to change course.
All that remained was waiting for Mikail to return, and when he did, things would get even better.
The thought gave speed to her movements in navigating the square while absently smiling at those who greeted her in passing. Just as Ardilon suggested, the Satoralans were much more accepting of her now than they'd been during her first visit. Yet, for as grateful as she was to have their friendly reception, she was even more thankful that no one stopped her to talk.
Instead, she made it home in quick time to open the front door and find …
Claws.
Sitting on the floor about five feet from the doorway, the big cat was idly cleaning his face with a paw, seeming completely uninterested in the fact that his new human was home from work. Otherwise, nothing was out of place. There weren't any boxes of belongings sitting around, or any other signs that the house had been disturbed whatsoever since she'd left for the Council Chamber that morning.
“Mikail?” she asked just to be sure, unable to rid herself of a stubborn spark of hope that perhaps he'd returned, and her things were still on the way.
But no answer came, prompting her to mutter a low, “Damn it,” before shutting the door and glancing down at the cat. “You could at least pretend to be happy to see me, you know.”
In response, Claws put his paw back on the floor and gazed up as if to ask you're joking, right?
Smirking, Kivsey shut the door, then turned and placed her mother's letter on the coffee table across from the chaise, unable to work up the motivation to immediately open it. Mikail's continued absence was disappointing enough, making it seem like a better idea to put off reading something potentially offensive and upsetting herself even more.
But despite her regret for her mate's absence, somehow, she didn't actually feel alone. It was a strange sensation, but in crossing to the stairs with the intentions of getting a bath, the distinct sense that someone was nearby overcame her.
Uncertain, she stopped at the landing and turned around, quietly scanning the living room. Was it her imagination, or had someone just walked by? She hadn't heard footsteps, or any sound indicating someone other than Claws was around, but the sensation remained.
It almost made her think someone was playing a prank�
��it wouldn't be difficult to pull off under cloak, after all. But who did she know that would do so, and why?
Nevan might pull such a stunt if she had reason, and Kivsey parted her lips to ask her name, but the only sound that emerged was a startled yelp when two arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind.
“Gods, I missed you, love.”
The affectionate words at her ear were punctuated by a kiss to her neck, shock immediately turning to excited surprise in realizing Mikail had sneaked up on her after all.
“You scared me!” she exclaimed in ire, even while turning her head to greet him with the most passionate kiss possible—not that she wasn't wondering when he'd arrived.
Had he been standing there all along? Or perhaps he'd followed her home from the Council Chamber intending to surprise her?
Whatever the case, when he matched her kiss with a deep groan, their tongues meeting in slow, sweet strokes, such questions were completely forgotten. She had no idea how long he'd been in the city, or where her belongings were, and didn't care.
All that mattered was giving her mate a proper welcome back, particularly when he murmured between kisses, “I'm sorry. I was on my way to the Council Chamber after storing your things in our bedroom, and saw you coming home midway down the street.”
He paused to nibble the shell of her ear, tightening his hold around her in adding, “Did you miss me, too?”
She would've answered immediately, but the way he nuzzled her neck had her too mindless to do so. Instead, her head fell back against his shoulder as shivers of delight rushed through her body, amplifying the relief his return provided until she finally confessed pointedly, “I missed you so damned bad.”
He let a sexy, approving groan against her ear, which didn't help her focus in asking, “How was the trip, anyway?”
“Long,” he muttered, and she didn't need any elaboration as he continued, “but nothing happened out of the ordinary. We acquired everything you asked for without trouble, which just made the trip seem even longer.”
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