Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 75457 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75457 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“I was going to make her immortal, wasn’t I?” he demands.
I don’t answer but instead ask, “After the potion was destroyed, did you spend the rest of her days with her?”
Rune blinks at me in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean. Were you like Carrick, utterly devoted to a mortal woman even though she would die? Because Carrick was going to stay with Eireann—Finley—until she took her last breath.”
“That’s beside the point,” Rune mutters. “It’s enough I would give her immortality.”
My heart sinks. He didn’t love his woman.
“What was her name?” I ask softly.
Rune scoffs. “Who can remember things that long ago?”
I stare at him, willing him to give me one tiny glimpse of hope. He’s the only god out of the five that I know claimed to love someone.
Instead, his gaze drops away and he starts to pick at what might be a bit of food on his pants.
With a sigh, I prepare to leave, longing for the comfort of my small house in the Swiss Alps and the weight of furry dogs on my lap.
“You’ve got more things to worry about than love,” Rune says.
“Excuse me?” I step closer to the sphere, and the smelted streaks of power that contain him glow brighter. It causes his eyes to glitter with what looks to be madness.
“Big things on the horizon, sweet Zora.” His tone is secretive and taunting but sounds so assured. “Big things.”
“You’re going to get a new waste bucket?” I taunt.
“I’m going to kill all of you who have offended me,” he sneers, leaning forward again. He’s brought up short by the power of the sphere, and a line of spittle falls from his mouth. “Going to kill you all.”
I force myself to stand still, a mask of bland indifference on my face. He watches eagerly, wanting to know if he got to me.
“I imagine with all this time on your hands, you’ve built up quite the imagination. Good story, though.”
I don’t give him a chance to reply, flinging myself back through dimensions and distance to my home. I feel immediately better in my safe space, but my hands shake like leaves in a storm.
CHAPTER 4
Maddox
Inhaling deeply, I have to admit I’m impressed by the lack of decay and sulfur here in the Underworld. The last time I was here was with Carrick and Finley to mount a rescue operation for Zora, and the place was depressing.
Dark, dank, and it smelled of tortured souls.
I look around the streets of Otaxis, the capital city that sits across the Crimson River from the castle, and admittedly, the Dark Fae turned king has made some major improvements to this place.
When Kymaris ruled, it was all dim caverns and slithering demons in back alleys while the fires of the Crimson River belched poisonous fumes. Now Otaxis is clean, the buildings in full repair and whitewashed, the streets cobbled and dotted with glowing lampposts. While the Crimson River still flows deadly as ever, it doesn’t smell.
Most interesting of all is the overhead sky, which is set to perpetual evening. It’s like black velvet with crushed diamonds scattered across and in the distance, a simulated glow of sunrise. There’s so much ambient light from the magical new day dawning on the horizon, the city lights, and the molten river, it almost seems inviting. Moreover, the residents who walk the streets—which, granted, are mostly evil beings—look happy and content.
I know Zora gave Amell more power than what he’d normally have as an original fallen angel turned Dark Fae, and it appears he put that power to good use in making this place habitable. The power to do this is immense, and I felt it when he and I fought at her home. We were crushing trees and boulders in our zeal to kill one another, and Amell is only the second creature I’ve come up against in my thousands of years of existence who was not a god or demigod who had that type of strength.
Sadly, I won’t be able to kill him, not because he’s indestructible but because Zora doesn’t wish it to be. Quite the opposite. She’d be hurt if Amell died so I unfortunately can’t rip off his head like I’ve dreamed of doing since I learned he had a relationship with her.
Not in any rush to meet my nemesis, I wander the streets of Otaxis, taking in the various open vendor stalls and shops. I wander into a bar, have a few drinks, quell a few Dark Fae interested in taking me on. Once they realize I’m a demigod, it’s all apologies for assuming I don’t belong.
When I can’t put it off any longer, I bend distance to the end of the Bridge of Judgment, which leads directly into the castle’s main doors. Having never actually been in the castle, I don’t have the requisite knowledge to pull myself to a particular place inside through the magic of bending distance, so the bridge is as close as I can get.