The Dark God's Bride : Book 2

by Dahlia Lu

  What had happened was very real.

  Ever since she’d been a little girl, she’d fantasized about the man who would be her husband. She’d share her girlish fantasies with her mother.

  “He would be handsome,” her teenage-self had said, “and tall. He would be smart, and kind, and compassionate. He would be a man of unquestionable honor and integrity. Someone I could trust. Someone I could love. Most of all, he would love me and only me.”

  Reality was bleaker than fantasy by a long shot.

  Two out of ten is not bad, her inner self mocked.

  She was so angry with him she could explode. She was even angrier with her own helplessness. She couldn’t fight him. She couldn’t yell at him. She couldn’t do a damn thing for herself!

  How pathetic, her inner self taunted again. Bursting into tears again, Amara?

  “I apologize for my mother,” a female voice spoke to her. “She can be quite insensitive.”

  Amara gathered herself together to preserve whatever was left of her pride and looked up. There was no one. She lowered her gaze and saw a dazzlingly beautiful creature – a mermaid – half emerged from the narrow water canal running down the length of the hallway. Her hair was light auburn. Her eyes were a mystical green. The blue scales of her long magnificent fish tail were glittering like gems beneath the water.

  A real beauty.

  “I witnessed the whole thing, and I feel nothing but grief for you. I know what it feels like to marry someone you don’t love or even like.”

  “You do?” Amara murmured.

  “Oh yes.” The mermaid nodded. “My mother had promised me to the Sea King before I was even born. I’ve never met him, but I’ve heard many bad things about that man. I am destined to become one of his many females, and it’s just not fair.” She lifted her chin defiantly.

  “Oh, you poor soul!” Amara offered the mermaid a hug. She didn’t mind that her clothes got wet. “Did you tell your mother you object to the marriage?”

  “Did that do any good for you?” The mermaid countered.

  “No,” Amara sighed. “It did not.”

  “My destiny had been set in stone. It cannot be changed. However…” her voice carried a hint of mischievousness. “Succumbing to fate doesn’t mean that you can’t get what you want out of it. For example, I think it’s unfair that this Sea King get as many females as he likes, while I am to be delivered to him a virgin on my twentieth year. I’m going to do something about it. Don’t tell my mother.” She leaned in closer and whispered into Amara’s ear. “I’m going to the mortal world and attempt to seduce a male of my choosing to… before I’m gift wrapped and delivered.”

  Amara gasped when she heard. Her tense face eased into a smile. “You’re not supposed to do that.”

  The mermaid slowly nodded. “I know. So you see, you can make the best of your situation too.”

  “How?” Amara asked with growing interests.

  “I’m not going to be a bad influence, as I’ve often been called. I will leave that to your imaginative mind. Feeling a little better?”

  Amara nodded.

  “Oh, he’s coming,” the mermaid warned. “I’ve got to go. Good luck, love.”

  She dive into the crisp clear water and swam down the channel.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Don’t touch me!” Amara yanked her arm away from Noctis as soon as they rematerialized in their bedroom. She swayed from the dizziness. He reached out to her again. He scooped her up in his arms and deposited her on the bed. “I said don’t touch me!” She snapped. A flailing hand accidently hit his face.

  Her complexion became ghostly pale when she realized what she’d done. She slowly leaned back against the pillow, waiting for anger to swell his blue eyes.

  In a much calmer voice than she’d expected, he asked, “Do you want supper?”

  Amara slowly shook her head.

  “Change out of those damp clothes before you catch something.”

  Could this man confuse her even more?

  He left the room and returned with a pink silk nightdress in his hand. He nudged it at her.

  She accepted it. “Turn around.”

  He raised an eyebrow at her request, but he did as she asked.

  She pulled the T-shirt over her head, unhooked the bra, wiggled out of her jeans, and slipped into the comfortable nightdress. She wanted to take a shower because she had a feeling she smelled like fish, but decided that she was too tired to move. She also wanted to ask him to bring her a fresh pair of underwear, but her female common sense caught a hold of her. She dropped the dirty clothes on the floor next to the bed.

  “If you’re going to be a tyrant, then at least be consistent. One minute you’re acting like my owner, the next minute you’re acting like my friend. I don’t know where I stand.”

  He turned around again. His frown deepened on his handsome face.

  “I am not your friend,” he clarified, splashing acid on her already damaged pride. He added, “I am your husband.”

  He said it so fluidly as if he’d said it a thousand times before.

  Amara made a mocking sound from the back of her throat. “Believe whatever you want to believe. It doesn’t make it true.”

  His right hand traced down the length of her leg and closed his slender fingers around the red tattoo at her ankle. “I’d say the same to you.”

  “But it’s not true, right?” Her grey eyes beckoned for confirmation.

  “Bound to me for all of eternity?” He nodded with conviction. “I’m afraid so.”

  His indomitable confidence drowned the tiny bit of hope that she had.

  “Did the thought of asking if I want to be ‘bound to you for all of eternity’ ever cross your mind? Is the concept of consent that new to you?”

  “It would be hypocritical of me to ask if the outcome would be the same whether you are willing or not.”

  “Oh, I see… hypocritical,” she said mockingly.

  “The arrangement is solid.”

  “Where have I heard that before?” She cut in. Sarcasm was thick in her voice. “Oh, right, when females were considered properties!”

  “I see no flaw in the covenant. I will provide for you and I will protect you.”

  “Well, that’s not enough!”

  Patience thinning, he gritted his teeth: “What more do you want?”

  “I want–” She diverted her eyes to the right corner of the room. “You won’t be able to understand. A man like you will never be able to understand.”

  His blue eyes narrowed dangerously. “And what kind of man am I?”

  “You’re the kind of man who would lie, cheat, and kill to get what he wants.”

  Was that a breath of relief from him?

  “Are you clear on what I want?”

  “You didn’t have to tell that wretched lie. There are no boundaries for you, are there?”

  “I don’t recall telling a lie.”

  “You said!” She choked. Heat swelled up on her cheeks. “You said… I was having your child. That’s a blatant lie!”

  “Is it?”

  “Why are you asking me?”

  “Look,” he began, tugging at the comforter and pulled it over her, “You and I both know that I am not a very patient man. We’ve had our struggles.”

  “I always come out with bruises like this one.” She showed him the arm he’d gripped earlier.

  He winced slightly. “We’ll have a doctor take a look at that.”

  “I see. So as long as you can foot the medical bill, you can batter me all you want.”

  “I do not batter women!” He strongly objected her accusation. “If you haven’t notice by now, there is a difference between us in strength.” He reached for the nightstand and ripped out a chunk of the hardwood with alarming ease. “I try not to hurt you, but accidents happen!”

  She blinked at the demonstration. When she understood what he was trying to tell her, she was touched. Her grey eyes warmed up to a li
ght shade of blue. “You tried not to hurt me?”

  “Mortal. If I’d wanted to hurt you, you’ll be a pile of ashes by now.”

  “Again with the threats,” she complained.

  “It is not a threat.” The piece of wood in his hand burst into flames. It turned to ashes and crumbled before her eyes. “I am stating the truth.”

  Amara swallowed quietly.

  He brushed the ashes off his hands. “You are too pale. You should eat something before you go back to sleep. I’ll send for supper.”

  Noctis could be unexpectedly gentle.

  “I didn’t mean it,” she said under her breath.

  “Didn’t mean what?”

  “When I said I hate you… I didn’t mean it,” she confessed. “I don’t hate you.” When he didn’t respond, she added. “You just get me so angry sometimes. Perhaps strong dislike, but I don’t hate–”

  He stopped her mouth with his. Her mind went blank. Her thoughts dissipated. She couldn’t remember what she was going to say before he kissed her. The chemistry between them was undeniable. It has always been there. She kissed him back with urgent need, so urgent that she pulled herself up against him. She inhaled his scent, a mixture of clean soap and his own, and let out an awed sigh against his mouth.

  His head shot up, leaving her panting for each precious breath. She gave him a faint inviting smile, but he shook his head and stood.

  “Aren’t you going to …?”

  “I’ll send for supper,” he said, his voice was so coarse it almost sounded harsh.

  Visible disappointment showed on her face. “No,” she responded with the same abrasiveness, “I don’t want any. I’m going to sleep.”

  “Alright,” he switched to a softer tone. He shifted from her side to the door. He turned his head back momentarily. “I won’t lay a finger on you from now on, unless it is required of me. You have my word.”

  Amara frowned at the door closing behind him. Feeling utterly rejected, she grabbed the pillow and intended to throw it at the door. It didn’t make it too far from the bed.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Did you just summon me?” Amara asked the necromancer in deep bemusement.

  She’d just finish brushing her teeth and was preparing to take a shower when a bright summoning circle appeared on the bathroom tile. Dozens of shadow hands reached out to her like a scene from some bad horror movie and dragged her down. The circle engulfed her body. The next thing she knew, she was laying on the dirt with the necromancer looking down at her.

  “I tried calling you. I tried emailing you. I even tried to tweet you, and you know how I feel about technology,” he said, turning the blame on Amara. “I thought you were dead.”

  “Yeah, well, five more minutes and you would’ve seen me wet and naked. I was about to take a shower.”

  He looked quizzically at her. “Who would want to see that?”

  “Pfft,” she sputtered. “If you want to hurt my feelings, you’ve got to do better than that. I live with one of the most condescending man ever to walk the earth.”

  “My god!” the necromancer exasperated. “What has he done to you? You’re a female who doesn’t get hurt by words. Even I haven’t managed to create such a perfect creature. Pure genius!”

  For a man who summoned some of the ugliest things to ever walk the earth, it wasn’t a compliment.

  “So, why did you summon me? Let’s skip the whole ‘how were you able to summon me?’ bit, since I’m already here and you obviously did what you did.”

  “You’re my apprentice,” he said plainly. “You already belong to the sorcerer class.”

  “Get out of here!”

  He blinked, looking clueless. “But I just got here.”

  “No, I mean, really?” She gasped in excitement. “I’m considered a sorcerer now?”

  “Sorceress,” he corrected her. “Yes!” She punched the air triumphantly.

  “What are you so happy about? You’re just a novice. Anyway, I’m going to teach you how to be a necromancer.”

  “Don’t spoil it for me, Shiran. I’m exuberant right now.”

  “I warned you not to call me by my name.”

  Amara suddenly became aware of her surroundings. “Another cemetery? Are you kidding me?”

  “Cemeteries are a necromancer’s practice grounds,” he said very slowly. “You got that?”

  She rolled her eyes. “How about you teach me something that doesn’t have anything to do with dead people? I’ll learn.”

  “Today, I will teach you how to reap souls.”

  She immediately crossed her arms in front of her chest. “No way. It’s against my moral beliefs. I am entitled to freedom of… ethical… expression?”

  “Just watch me,” he instructed.

  “Didn’t you hear what I said?”

  “You’re an apprentice to a necromancer,” he reminded her. “This is what we do!”

  “I’ll observe,” she said compromisingly. “But I’m not doing it.”

  “Hold this,” he placed a glowing blue orb in her hand.

  “Alright.”

  “The most important thing about gathering a soul is knowing the name of the deceased. In cemeteries such as this, the names are on the tombstone, so it’s free picking. Knowing the name of an individual gives you the power of command over the entity.” He bent over and brushed the dust off an old tomb stone. “Like this fellow here. You recite the summoning spell I taught you and then call the name of the soul lying beneath the earth. Once the soul emerges, you command it to bind to the orb… for storage purposes.”

  “That easy?”

  “You got to do this at least ten thousand times, so yeah… I don’t want it to be any more complicated than this. But it does get complicated. In instances where you do not know the name of the deceased, you might have to go into combat. I find it too time consuming. I prefer the easier way.”

  “So, how many did you manage to gather so far?” Amara asked curiously.

  “I’m very close,” he said proudly. “I would have had it done so much faster if Death wasn’t always on my trail. I have to move constantly to escape detection. But that’s okay. Once I have gathered my ten thousandth soul, even Death can’t do anything to me. I’ll be one of the most powerful sorcerers the world has ever known!”

  “Ambitious…”

  The necromancer suddenly frowned. “Speaking of Death, we have to cut this lesson short. Run!”

  “Why?”

  “I’m not kidding, Amara! Run!” He grabbed her hand and hauled her with him.

  “Wait a minute!”

  “No! Just run! Run like the wind!”

  She ran with him, leaped with him until she couldn’t keep up with his long strides. She stumbled and fell forward. Their hands disconnected. The necromancer intended to come back for her, but he had seen something that set horror to his face. He dashed off by himself, leaving her behind. She caught a glimpse of regret in his eyes as he turned away.

  Amara slowly turned her head back, dreading what she would see.

  She saw a hooded figure under a simple black cloak, undoubtedly masculine, coming closer. His steps were so light, it almost seemed like he was floating. Amara was too fear-stricken to move.

  The manifestation of Death was standing before her.

  A white bony hand lifted from under the cloak and pointed an accusing finger at her.

  “Me? No, no, no! This is a misunderstanding!” Amara tried to explain. Her eyes widened when she realized she was still holding the blue orb. She was caught red-handed with damning evidence. “Oh…” she whimpered. “I’m screwed.”

  She slammed shut her eyes when he took another step closer.

  In a layered voice, Death spoke to her, “Give me the orb, Amara.”

  “O-okay,” she stammered. She pushed the orb forward and felt it removed from her hand. She slowly opened her eyes and looked up at him. “You… you know my name.”

  A bony hand reached for her face, b
ut stopped an inch short from contact. Amara could hear her heart hammering inside her chest in that still moment. Death withdrew his hand and turned away without giving her a reply.

  “You’re… letting me go?”

  “I will come for you in three years’ time.”

  In the blink of an eye, Death vanished into the night.

  So it was true. She really only has three years left to live. She sat at the same spot for half an hour, quivering, until the necromancer came back for her.

  “You’re alive,” the necromancer said with a grin on his face.

  She glared at him.

  His grin broke into an expression of relief. He pulled her up from the ground and hugged her tightly. “I thought I’d lost my first apprentice.”

  You freaking left me for dead! She wanted to shout at him. She’d plan on kneeing him in the groin as punishment, but seeing he was so worried about her, she abandoned her intentions. She patted his back. “There, there. I’m fine.”

  He quickly released her, straightened his posture, and cleared his throat. “Weakling,” he sneered. “Before we approach any more lessons, I’m taking you to the track.”

  She walked with him. “The track? Why?”

  “We need to work your stamina, of course. Running is part of your training.”

  “Actually… I don’t want to do this anymore.”

  “By the way, where is my orb?”

  “Death took it?” Amara didn’t know why she said it in a form of a question.

  “Damn it! There were, like, a hundred souls in there!”

  “It’s starting over for you.”

  “Damn pain in the neck! If they keep getting confiscated like this, I’m never going to have it done.”

  “I think you should take me home before he notices I’m missing and comes for your head.”

  * * *

  Chapter Fifteen

  Raya had visibly gotten better over the last four days. Some of her beautiful coloring had returned to her sickly pale skin. Her pretty smile didn’t look so pain-stricken anymore.