Wraith King 2

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Wraith King 2 Page 1

by Jack Porter




  Wraith King 2

  Jack Porter

  Copyright © 2019 by Jack Porter

  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.

  Created with Vellum

  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

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Also by Jack Porter

  About the Author

  1

  In Hell, there was a legend that the water hadn’t always turned to blood. That once the plains were lush with green grasses, and flowers grew over the mounds of the dead. Now, though, the plains were dry, and what vegetation that survived was from hard-working farmers who transported sanctified water to the fields, or from trees so twisted from the ash and red sky that they were no longer green. Now, the harvests didn’t usually feed everyone, and the elves lived chiefly on dried meats with a little bread, cheese, and roots.

  Now, the elves had to burn the bodies of their dead to prevent the necromancer, the Wraith King, from resurrecting them and using them as slaves or as soldiers in battle. Now, the elves of Hell celebrated Death Days, not birthdays, and sang departed souls to a better, final resting place.

  I wasn’t sure about the other races in Hell, but I assumed they had similar troubles. My stay at Castle Blackhold had been eye-opening, but it was nothing compared to our current mission.

  Riding through Hell to rescue your lover sounded romantic, but really it was just full of ash and dark, ominous trees. We—myself, a band of fifty armored elves, and one succubus—were riding through the mountains to catch the slavers who had taken captives after the Battle of Blackhold. One of them was Syn, an elven beauty who was the Captain of the Royal Guard and one of the elves I had bonded with. Our intention was to catch the slavers by taking a shorter, more treacherous route over the mountains before our enemies could sell their prisoners or something equally nefarious.

  The ground was stony, and the trees were dark. Sometimes, the trail would become nothing more than a ledge over a cliff, and I was glad my mare was comfortable with heights. Other times, the path would widen and go beneath the trees, and we could ride side-by-side.

  Other than the difficult terrain, we hadn’t sighted anything dangerous all day although Nya, the Dark Elven ruler of Blackhold, assured me these woods were full of monsters. At this stage, with my ass hurting from the saddle and my balls aching from Ilana’s constant teasing looks, I might have welcomed a monster sighting.

  Or a fight.

  Or a fuck with Nya and Ilana. Ilana had said that might happen tonight, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it.

  “What do people in your world do for birthdays?” Ilana asked. The succubus was riding beside me, her bat-like wings folded beneath a long black riding cloak that opened in the front to display an impressive view of the cleavage spilling out of her corset.

  “It depends on the age,” I said, “but cake and candles are usually involved. And presents.”

  Ilana put a finger to her lips and tapped them. “I might be able to find candles tonight. The cake would be a bit more difficult.”

  “And the presents?” I asked, smiling.

  “I’ll have to think about it,” she said playfully. “How many presents do you need?”

  I glanced behind to make sure no one was within earshot. Not that it mattered. Elves had superb hearing. Oh well, let them listen. They all seemed to find my sex life fascinating.

  Actually, lately, it had been pretty intense. I was fascinated myself.

  “I haven’t had a proper birthday in a few years,” I said. “Last year, my buddies took me out drinking. It wasn’t that memorable, really.” They weren’t great buddies. Most of them were assholes, and I didn’t miss them.

  “So, you don’t want to drink tonight?” Ilana asked, her voice moving into that seductive range that sent shivers straight to my groin.

  “Elven wine makes my head spin. But then again, so do you.” I glanced at the succubus. “But I wouldn’t say no to you.”

  She had moved her finger from her lips to her throat and was trailing it down one breast. My breath hitched when she hooked it inside her corset.

  “Let me see,” I whispered, glancing around.

  Slowly, agonizingly, Ilana tugged the fabric of her corset down to expose one dark nipple.

  I groaned. “I want to suck on it right now.”

  “Do it,” she said.

  My horse nickered softly, and I realized I was digging into her sides with my heels. Poor girl. I patted her neck and tried to rein in my own desire. “I want to,” I told Ilana. “I also really want to drag you off that horse and into the woods to fuck you against a tree.”

  Monsters be damned.

  “Have you ever done it against a tree before?” she asked, tweaking her own nipple.

  “No.”

  “Mm,” she said as if adding it to a mental list. My god, how had I gotten so lucky?

  I was just about to act on my desires when the party hit more even ground and broke into a faster pace. My mare instinctively moved to keep up with the horses in front, as did Ilana’s. “Dammit,” I muttered.

  Ilana laughed and covered herself once again. And then there was little room for talking for a while, but more room for my fantasies.

  Despite the imminent danger lurking in the woods and the roving bands of slavers in the plains, Hell was growing on me. With the succubus riding beside me and the gorgeous elves around us, it didn’t take a genius to figure out why I was coping rather well with my current situation.

  We rode for another hour, with the red light in the sky gradually changing and fading. Beneath the trees, darkness had already fallen even though there were probably three hours of actual daylight left. The red light just didn’t seem to penetrate the canopy very well. This world was weird that way.

  A couple of times as we were riding, I felt strangely powerful, as if something new was working its way through my body. When it happened, I also felt like I was too strong
or too heavy to sit atop my horse, but when I would look at my mare, she would do nothing but toss her head.

  It must have been a result of the long hours in the saddle. Maybe I was falling asleep and dreaming without realizing it. Both times, I shook myself and put it out of my head.

  But I couldn’t deny that since the battle a few days ago and my encounter with the wyrm’s blood, I had felt stronger. More alive. Perhaps that had something to do with the weird feeling.

  We slowed the horses, the party picking its way more slowly as the ground grew stonier through a mountain pass. Ilana reined in her feisty mare beside mine. “Jon,” she said thoughtfully.

  “Yes?”

  “Do you still want to leave Hell?”

  The question was so out-of-the-blue that it left me a bit speechless. I’d been completely honest with Ilana and Nya about wanting to leave, but the way she asked the question made me wonder what she was thinking. “Tonight?” I hedged. “I wasn’t thinking about it.”

  “Don’t be coy with me,” she chided. “Do you, or don’t you?”

  “I suppose the eventual goal is to go back to my world, even though we seem to be heading in the wrong direction. But if I’m honest, and I always have been with you, I’m not too worried about it at the moment. Although I’ve never admitted it aloud before.”

  “Okay then,” she said.

  “Why?”

  Ilana shrugged. “No reason.”

  “I said I’d take you with me if I did go back, and I meant it.”

  “I know. I’m not worried about that.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay,” she repeated.

  Weird, but I didn’t have much time to think about it because at that moment, two scouts emerged from the trees and hurried to Nya. She was too far away for me to hear what was going on, but whatever they told her set her on high alert. She held up her hand, and the line of elves, horses, one succubus, and one human stopped.

  2

  “The scouts have spotted a Hellhound,” Nya said as she rode back our way. “They tried to shoot it, but the trees were too thick for them to get a clean shot.”

  “Do Hellhounds ever travel on their own?” I asked, thinking of the one I had spotted weeks ago.

  Ilana shook her head. “It would be very unusual.”

  “So either the Wraith King is close by or some of his emissaries are,” Nya said, halting her black stallion next to us. He didn’t like that and pawed the ground impatiently. Nya patted his neck. “Quiet, Stormfyre,” she murmured. Then she looked at us. “Be prepared for anything.”

  The Elven ruler rode down the line of elves, personally checking that no one would be caught unaware if we were to be attacked. I put my hand on the handle of my whip. During the recent battle at Blackhold, the leather had finally burst into flames while I fought the wraiths. But now wasn’t the time to count on it doing the same thing again. Figuring that I should be prepared to use either the whip or my sword, I made sure they were both easily pulled from my belt.

  “There it is!” Ilana said. I looked to where she was pointing and saw a great beast staring at us through a gap in the trees, keeping its body well out of sight of the elves’ arrows. Only its eyes were really visible, glowing red from the darkness, but even those were terrifying enough to make me relive seeing the Hellhounds tear apart the elves during our last encounter.

  But then I also remembered the wounded Hellhound on our last trip through the forest, and the way it had regarded me with intelligent eyes. Something about the way this one looked at me reminded me of that beast, which was backing away from the trail and into the darkness of the woods. Quietly, I slipped from my saddle and crept toward the edge of the trees.

  “Jon!” Ilana hissed.

  I glanced back at her with a meaningful look, trying to convey a sense of calm. One of Nya’s guards also dismounted and began to follow me, and Ilana did the same. I held up a hand, warning them to stay back as I crept under the cover of the dark trees.

  Inside the forest was darker than I would’ve imagined. I could only see a few feet in every direction, and the tangled undergrowth would have made running impossible if the Hellhound attacked. Yet, my instincts told me not to draw my sword. It was probably foolish, but my gut had served me well last time, and I decided not to go against it this time, either.

  The bright red eyes stared at me through the gloom, unblinking and unflinching, drawing me in. Even though I couldn’t see well, the animal’s face took shape as I moved closer. Behind me, there were some angry mutterings and even a shout. But I ignored them.

  “Don’t be afraid,” I said. It was a stupid thing to say because I was definitely the one who should have been afraid, but I didn’t know what else to say.

  And yet, the creature seemed to understand. Could Hellhounds understand human speech? And if so, did they understand commands like dogs, or did they have a higher order of thinking and reasoning?

  Could they be turned against the Wraith King?

  The thought was new to me, but as soon as it crossed my mind, I hoped that it was true. How great would it be to turn the Wraith King’s own servants against him? For that matter, how many served the Wraith King of their own volition? I knew that he dealt in slaves and sold them, so it followed that he probably owned many of them himself. Ilana had once been in his thrall. Who else did he hold captive?

  I could see the entire Hellhound now, as I had approached within its circle. I wasn’t within arm’s reach yet, and had no desire to get closer, but I could see its red-black fur standing on end and hear the low rumbling noise coming from its throat.

  “I don’t want to hurt you.” Trying to keep one eye on the beast, I glanced around, hoping I hadn’t walked into some sort of ambush.

  But I didn’t see anything, and no one jumped out at me. Looking back at the hound, I saw it had bared its teeth, its lip rising in a snarl.

  “Easy!”

  But the animal continued to snarl and set its ears back, its body lowering to the ground as if it were about to spring.

  “Shit,” I said, putting my hand on my sword.

  That was the wrong thing to do. The monster growled outright and went to lunge. Out of instinct, I took a step back, and instantly trapped myself against a tree. “I won’t hurt you!” I said, taking my hand off my sword. The Hellhound lifted out of its crouch, its growls changing to snarls once again, but it didn’t back off. And I didn’t dare move.

  I was trying to think of what to say when three arrows whooshed out of the darkness and pierced the monster’s side. The beast yelped in pain and tried to run, but it was severely injured, and all it could do was fall to the ground.

  3

  Throwing caution to the wind, I hurried over to the Hellhound. One arrow stuck out of a point near its spine, another was buried in the shoulder, and one had hit it in the thigh. Between these injuries, the animal wasn’t going anywhere very fast. It was trapped.

  The beast snarled at me even as some of the light dimmed in its eye.

  “Jon, by the goddess, what are you doing?” Ilana asked. She had approached from behind me, accompanied by Nya’s guard. Nya herself appeared from the gloom in the next instant, her bow in her hand and another arrow nocked on her string.

  I held out my hands, turning my back on the hound. Every instinct I had was screaming at me not to let the elves kill this Hellhound. “Wait, I know it’s an enemy,” I said. “But have you ever thought about what would happen if we could turn one of these animals? Or even if we could get information by studying it?”

  A couple of elves laughed quietly. But Nya frowned. “You don’t know what you’re saying, Jon,” she said. “The thing is not capable of turning against the Wraith King. It is bound to him.”

  “Supposedly,” Ilana said quietly, “so am I. But I was able to fight against him.”

  I turned to my unlikely ally. Ilana had only ever expressed a fear of the Hellhounds. Despite her words, she was looking at the animal at my feet with disg
ust.

  An animal was now whining in pain. Even though it was wounded, with its razor-sharp fangs, red eyes, and large, strong body, the Hellhound was still terrifying to behold. But this monster held eye contact with me as if it was begging for its life. My gaze traveled over its furry body and came to rest on a partially healed wound in its rib cage.

  “No… It can’t be.”

  And yet, it made sense. This was the same hound I had encountered in the forest after the first time we had fought the Wraith King. Perhaps that’s why it wasn’t attacking now.

  Turning back to Nya, I said, “I will take responsibility for this creature. I can’t explain it to you, and I don’t expect you to understand, but I believe I’ve seen this one before. It didn’t kill me then, and it won’t now.”

  Nya regarded me coolly. “Explain yourself.”

  In as few words as possible, I told her about finding a Hellhound in the woods, one that had been shot with an arrow which I had then removed. I also told her about the beast having every opportunity to attack me but not doing it.

  As I spoke, Nya’s frown deepened. “This is beyond disturbing. Jon, you have entered into a blood pact with this monster.”

 

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