The Wrath of the Fallen, page 3
The only dark spot was when we went back to the town with the moonkrests to find that the town was gone, as were the people. Only burned buildings and skeletons remained. Or so we thought. We were attacked as we wandered through the forest, checking for survivors. It was an ambush neither of us had expected, and my side still ached from the bite of the two-headed serpent beast we had slain. Sure, my skin had mended, but it seemed Otherworld creatures made me sore. On the plus side, we at least saved the moonkrests.
I could feel Samkiel’s mind wandering the same as mine. The uptick in recent attacks had grown almost daily. It was as if something was sending them from the Otherworld to wreak havoc. I suspected that once Samkiel’s powers left the sky, and the realms knew of his return, it pissed off someone with more than a little power. It was another reason, among many, that we were headed toward our current destination.
Water dripped from my wings as we coasted the wind currents. The portal Samkiel had opened had dropped us straight into an ocean several miles from where we had intended to be.
“You worry too much,” I sent to Samkiel. “You’ll get grey hairs. It has been three weeks since you’ve had an episode, and we can deal with this stuff.”
Episodes was one way to describe Oblivion’s outbursts. On the plus side, he hadn’t had to live through any more brutal nightmares, and I hadn’t been awakened by roaring storms and howling winds tearing apart our home. Now, we were dealing with more issues that I didn’t know how to help him with. The only thing I could think to do was continue to support him.
Samkiel grumbled from atop my back. “Time is of the essence, and our most recent visits have not gone so well. I am expecting much of the same here.”
He wasn’t wrong. Not only had we had to deal with the increase in attacks from the creatures of the Otherworld and the ghost of his father popping in from beyond the grave, but we still had to visit what remained of the twelve realms. It was essential to see where the twelve rulers, lords and ladies, stood in their allegiance to Nismera. If we were lucky, maybe seeing Samkiel alive could shift their loyalties. Only seven realms remained, and of those we had spoken to so far, none of the royals had any interest in joining us.
Unir had shown up, and even if he wasn’t currently haunting me, it was a screaming omen to Samkiel. He was certain his father would never willingly leave the afterlife without his mother, and I had not seen Zasyn. Whatever had brought Unir here, whatever was his true goal, it had to be vital.
My wings parted clouds as we approached Shorerock. The realms here were not like Onuna at all. Some planets wouldn’t even register as such, no bigger than some moons, and this one was no different. An ocean spread as far as the eye could see, steely gray waves rolling one over the other. I wondered what lurked beneath the surface and deep below.
The sheer cliff face came up fast, a towering wall of stone robed in a heavy fall of water. I turned upward, feeling Samkiel’s legs tighten against my scales as my wings beat hard, racing through mist and clouds. The vertical climb seemed to take forever, and then the massive, sprawling city was before us.
It hung off the very edge of the cliff, water flowing all around it to fall into the ocean below. Blue and white stone columns topped with gaudy silver domes thrust toward the sky. Here and there, gardens graced some of the flat roofs. A towering city wall encompassed many of the smaller buildings. I suspected it had been created to protect the city from the violent storms the ocean threw at them.
The only visible road was a covered path outside the wall. It seemed to float in a horizontal arc, suspended above the water. Lord Orble oversaw Shorerock. It was a clever name for the city, considering it was supported by one of the few pieces of land on the planet.
We hadn’t tried to hide, and it would be hard to miss the giant, horned Ig’Morruthen that circled above the city. I assumed they were expecting us by now, and as we descended, I knew I wasn’t wrong. Guards stood straight as an arrow, backs taut as they watched us warily.
My thick, heavy wings separated the clouds as I settled down at the castle entrance. Blue and white flags snapped in the wind, a constant spray of sea salt misting the air. Shorerock was part of a large trade route, and one whiff told me what they traded. The smell of fish overwhelmed my sensitive senses, and a low growl left me as I sneezed. A small flame burst from my nostrils, singing the stone as I tried to clear my nose of the stench.
Samkiel hopped off my back, his silver armor catching the stray rays of sunshine. His father’s symbol was still etched into the pauldrons. I’d wondered if he’d change it after everything he had learned and all that had happened, but it seemed he had decided to keep them.
The guards wore sea blue armor, their weapons aimed at me. I considered changing forms, especially since I had to wrap my damn tail around me to avoid squishing anyone, but I was a bitch who loved dramatics. If we needed to use little intimidation tactics to get our way, I was okay with that, too. I tossed my head to the sky and roared, the sound piercing the air. I mantled, spreading my wings wide, casting the people below in darkness. When I finally rested back on my haunches and tucked my wings away, the guards closest to us were trembling ever so slightly.
Samkiel stopped and turned to look at me. If I could have shrugged in my beast form, I would have. He shook his head in amused exasperation before removing his helmet. I swore I heard the whole city suck in a breath.
“I am here to speak with Lord Orble,” he said loud enough that all could hear.
Soldiers shuffled as we waited for the drawbridge to lower, the rusted metal chains screaming in protest. Nismera was such a bitch. She had all this power and technology, yet she let those who followed her so loyally go without. But, then again, maybe she fortified them elsewhere.
Two rows of soldiers, spears pointing upward with a shield on one arm, walked out first. A clap echoed off the stone walls, and they all stopped and pivoted to face one another. A tall, muscled man strode between them, his white and blue attire screaming wealth and power. The heavily embroidered cobalt blue tunic was adorned with silver chains that crossed his chest, and tufts of white fur sprouted from his shoulders. Silvery patches in the shape of fish covered his elbows, the scales catching and reflecting the light. There was a lot of flash to him, but it was his hair that caught my eye. It was white with sea foam blue tips that curled up, and all of it was swept to one side. Was this Orble? How could he have been one of Unir’s old acquaintances? This man looked to only be in his late twenties.
“Samkiel,” the man said. “You’re even more appealing in person. The marble statues and depictions I’ve seen did not do you justice.”
If I could have rolled my eyes in my Ig’Morruthen form, I would have. Please, don’t stroke his ego.
“Settle down.” His voice whispered across my mind.
I sent back a soft chuckle.
“My apologies. I am looking for—”
The man held up his hand, cutting my husband off, and I took a step forward out of instinct, wishing to bite it off. The soldiers near him pointed their spears, the energy emanating from them buzzing, but I had little fear they could do anything to me in this form. I was almost as large as the damn castle.
“I heard, and unfortunately, you have been gone a very long time.” His eyes cut to mine, then back. “Lord Orble had a terrible accident years ago. I am his son Iver. I am Lord of Shorerock now.”
AFTER THE WARM welcome, Iver ever so kindly invited us in. After a quick wash, we’d changed into matching black outfits Samkiel made for us. Now, we sat around a large wooden table as Iver’s council and guests continued to stream into the room through the thick double doors. The table was designed to elevate the end Lord Iver had claimed, putting him far above everyone else seated.
My eyes damn near stung with how bright the inside of the castle was. If I thought the outside of his castle was an eyesore, it was nothing compared to the interior. It was an array of the same bright whites and blues, varying in different patterns and shapes. Horribly garish decorations stood alongside fine art and stunning statues, none of it appealing.
Thick columns were embedded into the walls, supporting the domed ceiling soaring high overhead. On one side of the massive dining room hung a painting of a large oceanic battle, with ships clashing and an enormous serpent beast below. The large horned fish that hung on the wall behind Iver glared at us with dead eyes.
“This place will haunt my dreams,” I told him across our bond. “Do you think he has enough fish memorabilia? I get it. He rules a sea-born city.”
Samkiel’s humor fluttered across my mind, and I could feel his smile like the warmth of the early morning sun. “Trust me, I don’t wish to be here any more than you. I’d much prefer we were home in our bed with you sitting on my face and your thighs squeezing the sides of my head as my ton—”
I slammed my knee against his leg, stopping him from finishing that sentence and the illicit images filling his mind. Heat pooled low in my belly, fueled by his knowing, sexy chuckle that caressed our bond. Outwardly, he smirked at me with cocky arrogance, desire sparking in his eyes and turning them into molten silver. I knew that look. Perhaps he wasn’t in such a foul mood as I thought.
Iver paid us no mind as the servants entered and placed steaming plates of food before each of us, starting with him. Iver smiled greedily and lifted his hand, allowing the others of his court to indulge. He and Samkiel soon began exchanging pleasantries.
I was listening to their conversation, but I smiled softly at the woman who sat next to Iver. Her thick blonde hair was artfully twisted into two separate buns, and she wore a white and blue dress that gathered at her shoulders. She deftly took a fork from the small child on her lap. The little girl couldn’t be more than a year old. Undeterred, the baby squealed and reached for a spoon, her bright blue eyes filled with curiosity. The woman glanced at Iver and then offered me a small, quick smile in return, nervously tucking the little girl’s dark curls behind her ears. I got the feeling she was afraid of the consequences of being caught interacting with me.
The woman didn’t reek of salt and fish scales. Instead, I caught the scent of a comforting floral fragrance surrounding her as if she were a flower plucked and plopped in this oceanside city. She had positioned the baby on her knee furthest from Iver and had subtly shifted her body to shield the child. She was obviously apprehensive, and I soon learned why.
“If you cannot shut her up, then I request your presence to be elsewhere,” Iver snapped without looking up, fish scales clinging to his bottom lip.
The woman pressed the child closer to her, but it only caused the little girl to struggle and squeal louder. Iver raised his hand, and the guard standing to his right flinched. I saw it, and I felt Samkiel’s awareness sharpen. The guard’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly on the woman, not in anger but in defense. I wondered if, under his blue-tinged armor, his hair was as dark as the small girl’s curls Iver’s wife held so lovingly. The guard relaxed a fraction and quickly volunteered when Iver only waved an imperious hand, indicating he wanted his wife and child escorted out. No one else paid any mind to the interaction.
“Your face.” Samkiel’s voice flooded my mind.
I didn’t need a mirror to know that my expression was twisted into a snarl of disgust at how he spoke to her.
Iver seemed to have a gift for being oblivious because he let out a throaty chuckle and said, “I guess I am lucky to even have that brat. The last two she could not keep.” He stabbed the steaming vegetables on his plate, food spraying from his lips as he said, “I wished for a son, you know?” He shrugged. “I can always try again.”
He spoke of her as if she were just some broodmare. I already hated this man, if he could even be called a man.
I refused to look at Iver, instead watching his wife’s retreating form. Tears welled in her eyes, but the child seemed to ease at the nearness of the guard, even reaching for him. As they left the room, I wondered how long it would be before Iver lost his life to the man sworn to protect him.
“If I ever give you children and you speak to me or them that way, I’ll cut your cock off, fry it, and feed it to you.”
Samkiel coughed around his hand at my very vulgar threat.
“Is everything all right?” Lord Iver asked, turning fully to us as his wife and young child left.
“Yes,” Samkiel said, his leg brushing mine.
“I’d kiss the ground you walk on if you gave me such a gift.”
“You already do. Do something else.”
Laughter drifted across our bond, his foot playfully nudging me under the table.
“Can I burn him?” I said. “Just a little. Maybe he’d be nicer.”
“No,” he said. “You promised no maiming.”
It was my turn to grumble. “I am regretting that decision.”
Silverware clanked as people continued to feast, but Samkiel did not touch his food. We had decided that after the Jade City queen poisoned him, he would only eat what was prepared for him at home by me.
“I noticed when we flew in that your city has grown substantially,” Samkiel said.
“Ah, yes, the consort you rode in on,” Iver said around a mouth of steaming fish meat. “Do you usually ride your consorts into battle?” he asked, snickering at his own joke. A woman on his right gazed at him coquettishly from behind her wine glass, giggling along with him. Others at the table joined in. It was obviously forced, but it was becoming alarmingly apparent that his so-called advisors were more interested in pleasing the lord of the house than advising.
“Can I burn him now?”
“I’m contemplating the fallout as we speak,” Samkiel said, glaring daggers at the man’s jest.
A slow smile spread across my face. “How badly do we actually need allies?” I replied, but kept my physical mouth shut, my hands resting in my lap.
“My wife,” Samkiel said, throwing that last word at Iver like a dagger. It was a challenge to see if he would disrespect me once more and present Samkiel with an opportunity to show him what he’d lose if he did.
Finally, Iver seemed to remember who was sitting at his table. He swallowed hard and dropped his gaze, unable to meet Samkiel’s glare, much less hold it. The council members surrounding us murmured soft whispers of disbelief.
“I don’t find quips or innuendos about my wife humorous, Iver, and if you make crude comments about her again, I will no longer concern myself with being your ally. I will have your head, and then I will have your city.”
The silence grew, only broken by an audible gulp from an older gentleman to the fair right, but no one spoke. Samkiel had addressed Iver without using his title, and it seemed to have blown their minds. They kept their gazes fixated on their lord and away from us. Everyone watched as Iver slowly lowered his fork back to the half-eaten redfish on his plate.
“My apologies to you, Your Highness,” Iver said, and I didn’t detect a hint of sarcasm.
“Don’t apologize to me,” Samkiel said, his lethally calm tone at odds with the powerful storm building outside. “Apologize to her.”
The wind grew, pressing against the glass of the dining hall with enough force to make them creak. The atmosphere shaped itself, preparing for his command to split the skies. My mind reached for his, hoping to calm the growing storm, but I was not met with a maelstrom at all. I blinked and dug deeper. The silence and stillness I found were scarier than the chaos I had expected. Instead, I met Oblivion, hungry and waiting. It was pure darkness, coiling upon itself like a serpent, glaring through Samkiel’s eyes and waiting to strike in my defense.
I blinked and reached for his hand under the table, his thumb worrying over the emptiness on his finger where Oblivion’s ring had been. He squeezed back, completely unaware of what I’d seen. At my touch, the temper he hid so well slowly dissipated. If he were lightning and death, I was the grounding rod.
Iver bowed his head toward me. “I apologize. My comment was in poor taste.” I nodded, and his gaze flicked toward Samkiel once more. “I was unaware you had claimed one in such a manner. Please forgive me. This is so shocking to us all. You must understand, given your reputation,” Iver said, his previous sass restored to his tone.
“My reputation,” Samkiel said. He said it as a statement, but the question was there.
“If I may speak freely.” Iver folded his hands in front of him. “You are the Slayer of Beasts, Peacekeeper, Unir’s bright and dutiful son. You are a legend among the realms, and now you’ve returned from death with not only a wife that is not your betrothed Imogen but an Ig’Morruthen one at that. She is the same breed of being who destroyed Rashearim. But if this union offers a greater allegiance than the celestial beauty, I would understand. The power she possesses could make Nismera falter.” His eyes cut to mine. “With all due respect, of course.”
I had forgotten our return would raise the question of his betrothal. I had honestly forgotten about it after interacting with Imogen and seeing her and Samkiel together. It was painfully obvious that there was no romantic love between them. The betrothal had been forced upon them, and Samkiel had more than proved his love for me. Thinking of Imogen filled me with sadness, not jealousy or anger. I desperately missed my friend.
“To answer your first question, my union with Imogen was strictly political and orchestrated by my father in an attempt to temper my wild ways. My marriage to Dianna was not arranged. I married her because I love her. Whether she be Ig’Morruthen, god, celestial, or mortal, my love and devotion to her would not change. So, no, it is not for power. And might I remind you, my sister and her rebellion destroyed Rashearim,” Samkiel said. “She and other traitorous gods who wished for Unir’s throne, not my wife.”
I knew it wasn’t the time or place, but my heart thrilled whenever Samkiel proudly claimed me. Even when the allies he wished to recruit to his side turned up their noses at the very sight of me, he never faltered. Warmth seeped into every cell of my very being. Treasures and gold and artifacts seemed so meaningless when being loved so wholly was far more valuable.
