King Of Shadows: The Shadowcrown Duet

by Kay Elle Parker

  Her smile was slightly drowsy. All that soft petting had lulled her away from the disquiet of her mind and allowed her body to float on the warmth of their attentions. “A queen knows how to treat her allies.” Her fingers twitched, and the shadows wrapped around them. “They are more than my allies, Isla. They are me.”

  Silence followed her declaration.

  After a few moments, Isla cleared his throat. “Well, that’s new. Never heard of that happening in however many hundreds of centuries the realm has been in existence.” The mattress tipped as he climbed beside her. “Are they likely to rip me into pieces if you get scared, treasure?”

  That was a distinct possibility. She frowned as she mused it over, then sent orders whispering down the lines of communication between her and the essence of the realm. The shadows seemed to bristle with indignation, rattlesnakes with their dander up, before she calmed them down. “No, they won’t harm you. I’ve asked them to regard you as a friend, as their commander.”

  “Second to you, of course.” Islador huffed a laugh and she heard the humor in it. “I can just see you on the front lines, baby. Dressed in royal armor, a sword in your hand and a shield strapped to your arm. Barking orders to soldiers and shadows alike. The enemy would shit itself at one glimpse of you.”

  “Yeah, and when was the last time the Shadow realm went to war?” Hell, were her words slurring?

  “Four hundred and fifty six years ago,” Islador informed her. She heard him pull in a deep exhale and braced for what she sensed came next. “The water’s warm, the cloth is unbelievably soft, and the antiseptic crap I found in the bathroom will undoubtedly sting like a bitch. Are you ready, baby?”

  He switched between calling her baby and treasure, she noted. Oddly, she loved the way baby sounded on his lips, the love he imbued in that one endearment. Or maybe she just imagined it because she was all too aware of how badly the crap from the bathroom stung on open wounds.

  “I...yes.”

  “My brave girl,” he crooned.

  The muscles in her stomach were taut with nerves. She heard the splash of water and visualized Isla dipping the cloth, squeezing the excess. Flinching sharply at the brush of the cloth on her tender skin, Alli bit her lip to stop the audible sound of her fear escaping.

  “Relax, Allianna. This won’t take long and I promise I won’t touch you below this line.” The cloth ran in a wet line about six inches above her buttocks. “No funny business, I swear.”

  Trusting him was harder than she believed. Never would she have thought she’d ever be afraid of Islador or Kian, but she’d been proved wrong. Her fingers dug into the sheets, anchoring her when she felt the urge to flee. Around the bed, her shadows hovered. Silent and watchful guardians.

  Time ticked past uncomfortably as Islador tended to her with compassionate hands. Every gash in her flesh was lovingly washed and dried before sweet-smelling cream smeared over the wound. The dull aches were broken up by sharp pains, then cool, soothing relief. By time he finished, Allianna no longer felt anything but blessed escape from the discomfort of her injuries.

  Something light and cool draped over her from nape to ass. “W-What?”

  “Shush, baby. Just rest now, all done.” There was the briefest brush of skin on skin as he stroked her arm, then the mattress shifted and he was gone. Only for a moment, because he returned and laid beside her, on his side so he could see her face. “Go to sleep, treasure. No one can hurt you. I have you now.”

  Allianna blinked sleepily at him, her hand lifting and tracing his features with her fingertips. She adored this man, but on rare occasions she felt overwhelming guilt at the thought of keeping him tethered to her. Her love for her men was balanced, for the most part, equally. There were moments when the scales tipped from one to the other sometimes, but they were both the king stones of her inner Stonehenge.

  However selfish it was, she needed both of them.

  One was already lost to her. The other...maybe she was lost to him.

  Islador’s mouth quirked as she cupped his jaw, feeling the stubble scrape her palm. She liked the scratch and prickle on her skin. “What was done cannot be undone,” she murmured sadly, fighting to keep her eyes long enough to witness her warning hit home. “You have me, Isla, always, but I don’t know if I’ll ever be truly yours.”

  His expression didn’t change as he leaned forward. His lips grazed her ear and sent a ripple of sensation down her spine. “Truly mine. Sounds good. Sounds right. Whatever horrors that demon put you through, Allianna, you will forever be truly mine, just as you are Kian’s. It’s how we three are destined. Intimacy be damned,” he added with a look that told her he knew exactly what she’d meant.

  “I’m sorry, Isla. I’m so fucking sorry.”

  “Don’t be. My queen has her reasons,” he whispered and pressed his lips firmly, sweetly, to her forehead. “Close your eyes, baby. Put today in the past.”

  For the first time in her life, Allianna fell asleep beside one of her men, breathing in his scent, basking in the heat of his nearness. Dreaming of how things might have been different for them all.

  *

  He would find out what had been done to her.

  Islador made the vow to himself. Aside from the wounds on her back, Allianna was healthy and whole, qualities he knew were impossible after a marriage ritual to a sadistic entity like a demon so close to full corporeal form. There was an ache in his gut from imagining what Kian had lived through, powerless to stop the bastard hell spawn from scarring a prized, innocent young woman.

  The bite mark on his shoulder pulsed gently, an indicator that he would soon be summoned through the link. He could ignore it for now, would do so without hesitation. He had more important things to take care of, and Kian—no, Antzel—would not get his own way through use of temper tantrums.

  Carefully, Isla tucked flyaway strands of white hair away from Allianna’s lax face, slipping them behind her ear so he could study her intently without being distracted by those luminous eyes. Because he could see her clearly this way, when she wasn’t working diligently to conceal her emotions from him, sealing them deep inside her so they couldn’t infect him.

  Emotions were a weakness in her eyes, prying open cracks in her armor until every drop of love, hate, sadness rippled in plain sight for all to see, all to judge and mock. She hadn’t yet concluded that those emotions were her most valuable weapon, her priceless shield. With them, she was a queen on the verge of taking her throne and her kingdom.

  Without them, she was as weak as the child she sometimes still believed herself to be. Without the passion and the fury in her blood, she was nothing more than an infant lost in the woods, a succulent morsel for hungry wolves to toy with and devour.

  Islador’s teeth clenched hard, remembering her reaction to his touch. Not a day before, they had been together, performing an act so intimate it eclipsed sex itself. He might not have been inside her to the fullest extent, but he had reveled in the heat of her pussy and been blessed to be the first whose cum anointed her. In that moment, he had marked her as his, Kian and the fucking demon be damned.

  He just prayed what they’d done of their own accord had been enough to negate the actions forced on Allianna by Antzel and the necromancer. That they, in harmony, had thwarted the creatures’ strategies for multi-plane domination.

  Pulling his hand away reluctantly, Islador remained on his side, itching to soothe away the lines of strain still faintly scoring her eyes, her mouth. She was sleeping soundly, but no matter how deep slumber dragged her, she bore the marks of a miserable period of time.

  His mating mark throbbed once, viciously, alerting him of Antzel’s volatile mood. Ignoring it was becoming more difficult as the demon piled pressure onto the bond, using his rage and frustration like a hammer on a doorbell.

  The choice in his hands wasn’t an easy one, but he needed to do the right thing for Allianna. Right now, keeping her safely hidden away while she healed was his main priority, and t
hat meant not drawing Antzel into hunting for Islador. It would just be Isla’s shit bad luck for the demon to stumble onto Islador, his trusted Second-in-command, harboring the Lord of Shadows’ wife while the realm was in uproar looking for her.

  He wanted to kiss her goodbye. Press his lips to hers lightly so that when she woke up, she would feel the resonance of his love in that fleeting touch and know he adored her even though he wasn’t by her side. His hands needed to touch, to memorize the shape of her form between them so his memory had her imprinted irrevocably in its vault. But he couldn’t abuse her trust that way, wouldn’t risk shattering the connection between them with one stupid move when she had no one left apart from him.

  Instead, he rolled off the bed and snagged a blanket, covering Allianna from feet to backside, careful not to disturb the square of weightless linen sheet he’d used to protect her wounds. With his treasure comfortably and away with whatever dreams she found herself in, Islador left her and walked to Dhur.

  “I have to go, big guy. Kian is calling for me, and it’s imperative he doesn’t find me here. Allianna must be kept safe at all costs.” Isla patted a huge onyx arm. “I’m placing my life and my future in your care, Dhur. All our lives and futures. She is the destiny of the Shadow realm.”

  The golem’s thick neck creaked as he looked down at Islador. Black eyes regarded him with all seriousness, and Isla saw the determination in Dhur’s gaze. Yeah, nothing was getting past his new best friend. “I’ll guard her as if she’s my own, boss.”

  “I don’t doubt it.” Islador took every care as he slipped out of Allianna’s chambers, making sure the corridors were clear before he so much as stuck a toe outside the door.

  Hurrying from her rooms to his, he winced as the mark grew teeth, giving the impression of Kian’s jaws clamping down onto the flesh for a second time. He stripped quickly, striding through his rooms to the shower.

  The water was still fucking freezing when he stepped beneath the spray, but the way the mark was beginning to scream, he knew he didn’t have long before Antzel came charging into his quarters with murder on his mind. Lathering quickly, he washed Allianna’s blood from his hands and the scent of her from his body. Even the faintest whiff of her on his person and Antzel would be on him like a bloodhound.

  When he was positive there wasn’t a trace of her on him, Islador switched the shower off and grabbed a towel, wiping off the excess water before he wrapped it around his waist. He hadn’t taken two steps toward the door when the pain in his shoulder crippled him, almost forcing him to his knees.

  Snarling with the effort to keep himself upright, he staggered toward the living room with his knees threatening to give with every jolting step. He was gripping the doorjamb when the door to his quarters slammed open and Antzel stormed in with a face like thunder.

  There was no Kian left in that body. Islador could see the change immediately. The way he moved was completely different to Kian’s smooth gait. The set of those broad shoulders, the angle he carried his arms, even the tilt of his head was foreign.

  Red eyes blazed like comets, locking onto Islador with the intensity of crosshairs. God knew Antzel was locked and loaded. “Where the fuck have you been? You think you can just ignore me when I summon you?”

  Isla breathed through the pain; the asshole wasn’t letting up on the bond and Isla’s nervous system was beginning to shake under the strain. “I’ve spent more time than I cared to on the mortal plane, Kian. I stank, I’m fucking tired, and I took an hour for myself.”

  The demon smashed the door shut, vibrating with malicious energy. “My wife goes missing and you think you can just waltz off for an hour?” He prowled toward Isla like a lion on the hunt. “I don’t fucking think so. Everyone thinks they can just fuck off when I need them.”

  Isla managed not to flinch when a fist plowed into the wall beside his head. He watched the demon shake out the pain in his hand and felt the bond’s call lessen, offering a reprieve. “The necromancer still hasn’t surfaced?”

  “Fucking bitch. Useless fucking cunts, both of them!” Those violent red eyes pinned Isla with savage intent, and when his hand struck again, it wasn’t to batter the wall. Strong fingers noosed around Isla’s throat. “You can give me what I need, Second.”

  Growling under his breath, despising being called by his rank under these circumstances as he was aware Antzel was exerting his dominance by reminding him he was beneath the demon in rank, Isla braced for a fight. “I will find the queen, my Lord,” he said levelly. “I can seek out the necromancer if you wish.”

  “I am your king, boy!” Antzel roared and brought dust drifting from the ceiling. His fingernails dug into Isla’s throat hard enough to draw blood. “I don’t want those filthy bitches. Get on your knees and serve your king the way he demands.”

  Not again. Never again. The burn of penetration was far too fresh in Islador’s mind to be discarded. He stared into horror-movie eyes, the shape of them familiar but the light within them alien. There was no flash of green to be seen, not a single glimpse of his brother in those depths.

  He would not prostitute his body again in order to save those he loved. Allianna had no need of that sacrifice, and Kian was scattered to the winds of time. This time he would prove his dominance could hold its own against Antzel’s. “No. The only monarch I serve is my queen. Not a demon in my friend’s skin.”

  Antzel blinked in surprise. “You can’t say no. The mark demands you obey.”

  Wishing he wore more than a towel, Islador curled his lip. “It can demand all it likes, it doesn’t mean I will submit like your personal bitch. I’m the highest ranked Shadow warrior in the realm. You? You’re a parasite in a host body.”

  Surprise crumbled away, ashes in the wind, and left behind the full fury of the monster. Cracking his knuckles, the demon snarled. “Killing you will be most satisfactory. Almost as pleasing as seeing my whore-bride’s face when she crawls back to me on her hands and knees and sees your head on a spike behind my throne.”

  “I’m sure she’ll take great delight in setting yours on a spike beside it.”

  Islador set the war in motion, smashing his arm into Antzel’s and breaking the demon’s hold on his throat. He smelled fresh blood but felt only pinpricks of pain. Adrenaline pumped thick and fast, blocking everything but vital actions.

  With his other hand, he loosened the towel, yanking it off his waist and spinning it until a tail formed long enough to strangle any motherfucking demon stupid enough to get in his way. Antzel, it seemed, was not just stupid, he was suicidal.

  “I know what you are, Antzel. Son of the necromancer, a demonic rat scurrying along the corridors of the realm, sinking your pointy teeth through the wires of Kian’s kingdom and plugging yourself into the system. Making a mockery of the realm, staking ownership on a woman who doesn’t belong to you.” Rage simmered in his veins as he concocted images of Allianna at Antzel’s mercy. “It gives me a fucking hard-on knowing that sweet girl got away from you, from the hell you’d have locked her into.”

  The demon’s eyes widened at the use of his given name, and at the mention of his mother. He stepped back, eyes narrowing speculatively. “There’s no possible way for you to know that.”

  Islador followed him, stalking the bane of his existence across the room in a parody of a dance. Where Antzel moved, Isla was there in front of him until the demon was cornered. “I’m not a stupid man, Antzel. Far from it. I may have been powerless to stop you from taking Kian over, but it doesn’t mean I didn’t know he’d been possessed. The older Allianna became, you grew stronger.”

  A lustful expression twisted Antzel’s face into a mirror-image of the demon’s black heart as he licked his lips. Glowing eyes half-closed as he drifted back to some memory or other that kicked his sex drive into high gear. The stench of his pheromones almost gagged Islador. “I thought of her as fertilizer. In her presence, I thrived, and I knew that when I finally made her mine, everything I was destined to be would
come to fruition.”

  “And yet she escaped you. Left you with no queen by your side. Was that part of the fruition, Antzel?” Islador smirked as the demon was pulled away from his memories and back to the here and now. To the pitiful reality of his future. “The stupid thing is, you could have kept her. You could have had Allianna’s devotion, her love, a life with her that included unbreakable fealty. The ultimate power couple, King and Queen of the Shadow realm. Instead you broke her, you used your strengths to make her weak...or so you thought. By fucking her the way you did, stealing the man she loved rather than working with him to become the pinnacle of her existence, you created the one creature capable of killing you. And she’s coming for you, Antzel, make no mistake. Time is ticking down on your clock.”

  Isla dodged the first of Antzel’s swings easily, feeling the draft as a fist whistled past his cheekbone. He blocked the second, a shot to his gut, and caught a glancing strike to the temple as the demon geared up for a fight.

  “You know where she is,” Antzel snarled furiously.

  Smacking another blow aside, Isla nodded, managing not to gloat. “I know where she is. She’s safe from you, from this clusterfuck you’ve dragged her into. She’ll come for you when she’s ready. Until then, you can watch over your shoulder, feel her breathe down your neck, and wait for the blade to fall, Antzel.”

  Kian’s skin bulged and writhed, giving Islador a glimpse into the horror lurking beneath flesh. He watched with sick fascination as the nails pushed free of his friend’s fingertips, clicking softly to the floor as long, needle-like talons assumed their place.

  “I’m going to string you up in the great hall,” Antzel hissed, waggling his finger so those lethal talons clacked together like little castanets. A moment later, they swiped at Isla’s throat, missing his neck by millimeters. “Tie the renowned Islador in front of his faithful army and fuck you raw, boy. Let them see you mewl and beg for me to stop, just as that little bitch did when my cock made that virgin cunt bleed. I’ll fuck you in front of her, show her what a pitiful soldier you really are, when she finds her spine and faces me herself.”