King Of Shadows: The Shadowcrown Duet

by Kay Elle Parker

  His fist smashed into the demon’s foul mouth before he realized he’d scored first blood. Pounding the disgusting words from the bastard’s head seemed like a mighty fine idea, and Isla landed another vicious punch that snapped Antzel’s head back before the tainted worm could draw breath to recover.

  Like the warrior he was, Islador steeled himself against retaliation and pummeled his friend’s mortal body mercilessly as the demon inside it struggled to strike back. Stomach, sternum, face bore the brunt of Isla’s inner rage, and he battered them to the best of his ability. “I’m not afraid of you, Antzel. More to the point, neither is Allianna.”

  He couldn’t stop his blows from raining down on tender human flesh, even when Kian’s features no longer resembled anything like human. Blood gushed from a mangled nose, dripped and bubbled over swollen, split lips as Antzel’s breath gasped laboriously between loose teeth. One eye was already closed with blackened swelling, while the other glared at him with intense red fury.

  It was while Islador was concentrating on trying to imagine any other face but his best friend’s on that ravaged piece of flesh that his guard dropped. Only for a moment as memories surged forward, guilt fast on its heels, but it was enough to give the demon room to fight back without really making a move.

  Pain stabbed him in the gut, ten savage spears of fire plunging up into his stomach. They popped through his vulnerable skin easily, forged deep as Antzel used Isla’s own momentum to skewer himself onto razor-edged claws that sank lazily into vital organs.

  Islador grunted in surprise, staggered back far enough to pull free of the creature’s attack, then dropped to his knees with shock. His battered hands pressed to the almost pinprick-like wounds as blood trickled down his skin, but he could feel the internal damage. Knew he would not be standing by his treasure’s side when she slayed the demon and avenged Kian.

  His poor queen would have both her men to avenge now, and that sat sourly in his wounded belly. He put more pressure on the injuries, hoping to stem some of the blood trickling through his fingers, but the damn stuff kept coming, rivulets of his life washing over his hands.

  “That should...give you s-something...to think about.” Antzel rasped gutturally, blood spraying in fat droplets as he forced his mouth to work.

  Even as his world turned gray, Islador took immense pride in watching the demon sway unsteadily. He’d left his mark as any good warrior—any Second-in-command of an army—should. Kian’s body would bear evidence of Isla’s ferocity for some time, he hoped, and the demon would feel each bruise and open wound every time he moved a muscle.

  From the top of his head to his shoulders, he went numb. In the last few seconds of consciousness, he embraced every aspect of his life—loving a special and admirable young woman; serving beside his best friend and the Lord of Shadows for too many centuries to count; dying without fear or regret in the shadow of a demon who could barely keep his balance after Isla’s beating.

  There was no shame in this death.

  Allianna wavered in his vision, her stunning face cast in tearful disbelief as she reached out a trembling hand to stroke his cheek. Isla reached up and grasped it, ignoring the slickness of his blood between their skin, and held it against the rough stubble of his face.

  Her presence was the last thing he felt as his heart stopped beating.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Fuck, that was a horrible dream.

  Face smushed into the pillows and stuck in a puddle of her own drool, Allianna blinked her eyes open as her heart plummeted into her stomach. She winced as she turned her head, feeling her skin pull tight over her back beneath the linen cloth. Many of the gouges were healed, she sensed that, but one or two of the deeper ones hadn’t had enough time to regenerate.

  The nightmare had yanked her from restorative sleep before it could finish the job to a high standard. She shivered as flashes of unconscionable images rained down on her—Islador, her champion, reducing Kian to a bloody mess. Glinting black talons finding a home in Isla’s belly, and her champion folding to his knees with those big, strong hands she loved clasped tightly over his taut belly. Cupping his face, unable to understand how things had come to that conclusion.

  Was it a prophecy of things to come? If so, she needed to change the order of events to prevent such a tragedy from happening. Losing Kian was an arrow through the heart to her soul. Islador’s death on top of that? She would never survive it, queen or not.

  Muttering to herself, she turned her head and spotted the giant golem Islador had brought home from his mission like a stray puppy. The creature was fucking massive, a walking rockpile made from impenetrable stone, and appeared to be soft and docile as well as obedient.

  Dhur was currently talking quietly to the one person she didn’t want to see.

  “Do you have permission to be here?” she called out, clearing her throat after her voice squeaked and fractured on the beginning of the sentence.

  Devilish eyes skimmed over her and one sleek eyebrow twitched. “I was hoping you would grant me that one favor, Your Majesty. I do come in peace, and with assistance at hand, after all.”

  Suave and sexy, Lucifer nodded to the golem and sauntered over to the bed. “We really must stop meeting like this, Allianna.” He gazed down at her, lifting the linen free of her back gently. “Ah, the necromancer hag did indeed tear you apart...to some degree. Of course, not quite as viciously as you did her.”

  “Glad she made it home safely.” Allianna sat up gingerly, pushing up and rolling carefully, grabbing for the blankets as her nude front was exposed to the devil himself. She blew out a long, slow breath. “To what do I owe the pleasure, Lucifer? This is twice in far too short a period of time.”

  He slipped his hand into his pocket and drew forth three small balls of glowing light. One red, one green and one silver. With deft and talented fingers, he began to weave them through his hands, his fingers, like coins. The signet ring he wore sparked whenever it came into contact with the mesmerizing orbs.

  “There’s been a complication,” the devil said amiably, without rush or overt emotion. His dark eyes remained locked on hers as he twirled the balls faster, juggling them between his hands without ever glancing down to watch them. “Three deaths within the realm this evening. Three souls in my hands, two tainted and one devotedly unblemished.”

  Allianna froze and paid more attention to the tiny globes spinning through Lucifer’s fingers. The closer she looked, the more she noticed how the green ball was a perfect match to Kian’s eye color, as was the gray to Islador. A hand slapped over her mouth in denial before she could do something irreparable like scream and bring the Shadow warriors down on her.

  “Islador was safe,” she insisted. “He was here. Alive.”

  There was no humor on the dark face, no mischievous light in the devil’s gaze that told her he was enjoying the sadistic benefits of a death. “Antzel found him in his chambers after Islador led him away from your hiding place. There was an altercation. Did you not take note of your vision, Allianna, and give your warrior comfort in the last minutes of his need?”

  Grief sliced through her gut as she remembered how lifelike Isla’s cheek had felt against her palm, his skin warm, stubble pricking. The feel of his hand around hers, sticky with drying blood. Tears slipped free and dripped down her face as she thought of the love that had been in his eyes as he stared at her, the way that beautiful gaze had gone glassy and blind before he slipped from her reach. “I was there. How could I be there?”

  “You have many gifts now, my queen. Your warrior reached for you and you answered.” Lucifer sighed and patted her shoulder gently as her composure broke, leaving her screaming into the pillows. “I don’t envy people in general, Allianna. What I want, I get, with no exceptions. But I find myself envious of your men, which is something hard for me to admit.”

  “What the hell is this? Just leave me alone!” She stiffened as he stroked the raw gashes on her back, bleeding as openly as the one
s in her heart. Through her sobs, she felt her skin tingle and twitch, the edges pulling together and knitting closed beneath his caress. “You’ve given me the worst news of my life, Lucifer. I don’t need to see your face as a reminder.”

  “To my honest displeasure, there is no time for grieving your lovers, Allianna. The demon is weakened but he will regenerate back to full health. You appropriated some of that ability from him, but he controls the skill with more finesse. Closing the book on this nightmare is in your hands.” His fingers tapped under her chin, lifting her face to his. “Take back your kingdom, little queen, if you still want it. I will help you rule your people. I will take you for my own if you will allow it.”

  Stunned, she blinked at him. Thoughts bounced through her head without rhyme or reason, leaving her breathless and drowning in a flood of emotions she couldn’t control. “Was this part of your master plan, Lucifer? Kill Isla and Kian so you could have me to yourself?”

  “I can see why you would believe that to be true.” Long fingers stroked his chin as he nodded. “Both Kian and Islador were more valuable to me alive.” He flipped the three orbs into the air and watched them dance. “Much more than they are like this. I give you my word, I had no hand in what happened today. You could never love me if I had.”

  She pressed her fists to the flat landscape of her stomach, envisioned the son she carried. Islador’s blood would carry on and he would be remembered forever not just as the best Shadow army commander in the realm’s history, but as the sire to the realm’s fiercest and most compassionate ruler. She would go to any lengths to ensure her son learned how to be his father’s pride and joy and guide the kingdom the way both Kian and Islador would want him to.

  “You will not raise my son, Lucifer.” Inch by painful inch, Alli sucked in her grief and shock, shoved it behind a thick steel door. Her emotions were private, for her eyes only, and she would mourn her lovers away from untrusted eyes. “He’ll be the best parts of Islador and I, and I won’t have another man raise him.”

  The devil hummed thoughtfully, looking unperturbed by the fact she’d just shot him down. He brought the spinning orbs down to hover above his palms. “For the chance to bring one of these back to life, Allianna? What would you give me for that? The privilege of bringing up the next Lord of Shadows in my image. Not too much to ask, is it, for one of your lovers to return to your side?”

  Sneaky fucking snake. Allianna bared her teeth at him. “Surrender my son for a dead man. Doesn’t seem like a fair trade, Lucifer. Kian is already damned, you’ve told me so yourself; how do I know Islador didn’t suffer the same fate when he died?”

  “Kian’s fate is product of his actions, little queen. Islador was nothing but true to you, and a damned fine warrior. He will serve me well, but he would serve you better.” The floating balls began to slow, to circle lazily. “Say you keep your son, your firstborn. Could you be persuaded to offer me your second child in exchange for Islador’s soul, Allianna? If and when you conceive again, that is.”

  She didn’t trust the glint in his eyes. They were dark and sympathetic, yes, giving the illusion of a man truly troubled by her plight, but the edge in them, lurking beneath that soft façade, held the cunning of the devil in his true form. “Maybe I should just sign over my soul. That’s what you’re really after, isn’t it?”

  Lucifer smiled and ran his fingertips over the heavy bags beneath her eyes. “Kian was a fool, Allianna. He welcomed a demon into his body thoughtlessly. Unknowingly, yes, which makes him all the more a fool. From that moment, he didn’t deserve you. His choice cost you more than you should have been asked to pay.” His head cocked slightly, watching the orbs jitter in his thrall. “Ah, he doesn’t like that. Never mind, what’s done is done.”

  Her attention latched onto the balls. “They can hear us?”

  “Yes.” Lucifer frowned and tilted his head further, puzzlement etching over his features. “Apparently they would like me to tell you that they’re sorry for failing you.” His shoulders sagged by a fraction and he blew out a sharp breath. “Men and the loves of the lives,” he muttered. “They want you to know they’ll be with you until it’s time to meet again. They’re proud of you, of who you have become and will be in the future.”

  Allianna reached out, lips and hands trembling in equal measure. “May I?”

  “Queens and their ability to make me bend my own rules,” Lucifer said with a chuckle. He added a little tsk on the end that gave the impression he was as baffled by his good graces as she was, but he ushered the green and gray orbs into her possession with care. “Five minutes, Allianna. That’s all the time I can spare before destiny knocks on the door.”

  She curled her hands around them, drawing them toward her chest and the heart so damaged by loss she was surprised it still beat. Protectively, she hunched around them, keeping them close, and felt the soothing warmth of their presence against her breast as though she clutched their heads to her instead of their souls. “I’m sorry. I cost us everything.”

  Words whispered over her skin, soft and reassuring. Tears flowed freely as she listened to the two men she adored murmur quietly, telling her how they loved her, how she would never let them down, never give them any reason to be disappointed in her. And all she could think was that they spoke lies, because she hadn’t been able to save either of them.

  “They say—”

  Allianna cut Lucifer off with a sorrowful look and a short shake of her head. “I know what they’re saying, Lucifer.”

  His look of astonishment spoke volumes. “Oh really? How...intriguing.”

  Allianna ignored him, cuddling her two balls of energy possessively. How could she let them both go? What Lucifer asked for was so ridiculous she was loath to take his offer, but what were the chances of her conceiving again? She couldn’t bear to have hands near her, to be touched.

  There would be no coming together of bodies to create another life.

  The red orb fluttered angrily in Lucifer’s palm, a trapped bird frantically trying to escape. Allianna knew who it was, could feel Itzel’s ire emanating in thick pulses of fury. That demon was one angry bitch. “Why have you brought her along?”

  The devil’s smile was not warm or reassuring. It was distinctly disturbing. His teeth were so white against the black of his skin, he reminded her of a panther ready to pounce on prey. “Itzel broke several fundamental rules, Allianna. That sort of behavior sets my temper on edge. The necromancer will remain with me for some time; it’s quite convenient that she is now pocket-sized. I can take her out and berate her anytime I please.” He lifted the orb to eye level and glowered. “No one plays hard and fast behind my back and gets away unpunished.”

  Allianna swore the orb looked repentant. Like a mama bear guarding her cubs, she urged the souls in her hands to her skin, wishing she could just absorb them and make the three of them whole once more. Because she took Lucifer’s words as a warning.

  Serious and deadly.

  “Let’s be honest here,” Allianna stated quietly, easing away from Lucifer as his gaze whipped to hers, still burning with disgust for the demon he controlled in his palm. She didn’t relax even when his fierce scowl abated and left him looking calm and eerily sexy. “We have different agendas in progress. Fuck knows what yours is, but I don’t trust you, or it.”

  “Wise. Understandable.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “There is a huge possibility I won’t have another child, Lucifer. By huge, I mean pretty much guaranteed. The odds won’t get any higher regardless of whether Islador comes back or not.”

  The reigning deity of hell gave Itzel’s orb a vicious look before he shoved it back into his pocket. He folded his hands on top of one another on his knee and regarded her with patient calm. “Fearing intimacy is something you can overcome, little queen. I can assist you with that if you wish.”

  Shit, he was serious. Allianna wriggled away a few more inches as her skin prickled with unease. The thought of sexual contact sent
her stomach into anxious spasms. “You’re not a qualified therapist, Lucifer, and I’m not spilling my thoughts and feelings for you to pick through and use to your advantage.”

  His expression didn’t flicker. “I’m aware of what happened in the altar room, Allianna. Itzel was quite forthcoming with details upon her return, filling in what I didn’t already know.”

  Nausea rose up her throat, and it dawned on her how susceptible she was at that moment, naked and on the verge of cowering against her memories. She swallowed thickly, taking comfort in Kian and Islador pressed to her heart. Vehemently, she shook her head. “I will not talk about it.”

  “Therein lies the problem. Until you can, and do, talk about what was done to you, fear will keep you locked away, a prisoner in the cage of your mind. Right now, I’m all you’ve got, Allianna. Let me help you.”

  Shattered inside, Allianna pulled her hands away from her chest, her mouth quivering into a broken smile as she watched the souls of her lovers hover in the bowl of her cupped hands. She was all she had, all her son had, and she was all they needed.

  Risking her soul or an impossible second child was too much to lay on the line when her son needed her. Saving Islador’s soul was a dream come true, an opportunity she never thought she’d get, and one she could never accept. Bowing her head, she touched her lips to first Kian, then Islador, and whispered everything she needed them to know.

  How much she loved them. How much she missed them. Promised in a broken voice to tell their son about his fathers and what brilliant, brave men they had been. And she swore she would find them when her life ended so they could be together once more, their unit brought to completion on the black wings of death.

  With shaking hands, she offered the orbs back to Lucifer as silent tears streaked down her face. A sob escaped when he took them with care, hiding them away in his pocket with the necromancer. “My answer is no. Thank you.”