Chapter 24
Soren
The sound of metal chains chiming was my only warning to the intruder in my trove.
Consumed by reclaiming what had been stolen from me, I missed the subtle change in the air that warned me I was no longer alone.
Snarling, I twisted toward the newcomer, my magic pooling out of me to block the razor-sharp lash of water.
Hot liquid splashed across my face, burning my skin, but I pushed through the pain.
Baring my teeth, white horns gleamed before I lunged, clashing against the intruder.
Zarina let out a deep, rumbling growl, her lips curled, revealing her sharpened canines. Her forehead slammed into mine, our horns crashing together. “Why were you in Nemos? What evil did you bring to the upper realm?”
Pain radiated through my head, making my blood come to life.
I thrived off the rush and chaos. I pushed Zarina off me, and my magic circled my legs, slowly whirling up my body.
The dark shadows filled with violet lightning morphed into twin swords in my hands.
Pointing a blade toward her chest, I glared at my sister.
“I was there on orders from my queen; however, I brought nothing to that realm.”
“Why, then, are there rumors of shadow folk roaming free in Nemos?” Zarina hissed, her face contorting with fury. “Why has one attached itself to a halfling?”
“A halfling?” A soft voice drawled out. “What halfling could control one of the shadow folk?”
“There is none,” I hissed to Morg. Morg’s lips twitched as she stared at me with a raised brow. Silently, I cursed myself for letting my emotions get away from me.
“Don’t spit out lies now, Soren,” Zarina threatened, the blue and amber galaxy in her eyes flaring.
I let out a deep growl, letting my power fill the air, colliding against hers.
She may be strong, but her strength was nothing compared to mine.
I was far older, and my power flourished from the turmoil of this realm.
My strength was twice that of hers, and I refused to allow her any leniency in my realm.
“As I said, there are no shadow folk in the upper realm. The magic between the realms would not allow them to survive, let alone attach themselves to anyone.” Turning back to Morg, my nose curled.
“I saw the shadow that she speaks of; it was not a part of that clan, nor did the shadow belong to me.”
“Lies,” Zarina spat out. “It has been seen, and it has attacked twice now. Two high fae lords have been killed. What else could it be but one of your revolting children?”
A vicious snarl echoed from my lips as I struck, disappearing into shadows and smoke until I was before her.
Pushing my forearm into her neck, I slammed her into the stone wall, holding her captive.
Growling, I leaned in close. “The shadow folk were created from my magic, not by me. Call them my children again, and I will throw you in their caverns and let them have their way with you.”
“Soren,” Morg sighed. “This is not how we handle diplomatic affairs. Though you really should have waited for permission to set foot in Dubnos, Zarina. You know the rules.” Turning to leave my chamber, Morg flicked her hands toward us. “Let her go, Soren. We will talk about this in the main hall.”
I bared my teeth at Zarina, bristling with agitation from both her and Morg daring to enter my territory. Zarina returned the gesture, letting out a low growl of warning.
A flash of rose gold caught my eye, my focus zeroing in on the gilded charm that held a sizable labradorite in its center, hanging between her pale horns. Letting my shadow swords fade away, I reached out, yanking the charm from her horn.
“This was mine,” I spat out. “I don’t know when you took this, but I’ll be taking it back.”
Zarina huffed, rolling her eyes, but was smart enough to keep silent.
She knew better than to argue with a dragon about their treasure.
Letting her go, I pushed her to the entrance of my chamber, forcing her to follow in Morg’s wake.
Holding the charm up, I glared at the crystal before shoving it in my pocket, mumbling threats of violence toward both females.
Zarina rolled her shoulders, letting out a soft snarl in my direction before trailing after Morg.
Frowning, I eyed Zarina carefully, taking in her proud stature.
I hadn’t seen my sister in many centuries, not since her mate and my wife perished in the human wars.
A sadness still lingered in her features, one that I knew would never disappear, but she looked stronger.
The despair that kept her from wanting to live seemed to be replaced with a quiet determination to be as irksome as she possibly could be.
Clenching my jaw, I ripped my gaze from her, letting my eyes adjust to the darkened stone hall. There were no windows here, no way for prey to escape from my clutches if they dared enter my space. Zarina let out a low curse from the lack of light, but this—the darkness—was where I thrived.
Finally, entering the Grand Hall, two thrones sat on a raised dais, so their occupants could look down on their people—a reminder of who was in charge.
My eyes flicked up to the king’s conveniently empty chair.
Only Morg sat on her throne, leaning back, her legs crossed one over the other, while wearing that proud, smug look of hers.
Fortunately for her, she fought alongside me in the wars, saving my reckless ass more times than I could count.
That was the only reason stopping me from wiping that look off her face.
“It seems that you have left out certain details from your visit, Soren,” Morg glowered. “Tell me what you kept to yourself. This time, leave nothing out.” Lifting her chin, Morg peered down at me.
I bowed low, making a show of it, earning a hiss from Morg. “Of course, my queen. After following Cassia’s sniveling court advisor, I searched out the soul-meander at Cassia’s request. She said that there was something he would show me. There, I ran into the shadow that I believe Zarina speaks of.”
“And?” Morg pressed, though her face was blank. “What did you discover about this shadow?”
“Nothing,” I grumbled, my nose curling at the memory of the girl crying on the floor and how my body screamed to comfort her. “It’s not one of the shadow folk, though I don’t know what it is.”
“It attached itself to the girl,” Zarina hissed in my direction. “What else could it be? What else but the shadow folk could have the mind to behave the way it has done?”
A warning growl rumbled deep from my chest as my gaze slid toward Zarina. “The shadow folk were created from the chaos of my magic, which meant my power should have recognized it. This was different. It was something more.”
“What girl?” Morg said, her head tilting to the side in curiosity. Her voice sounded soft and friendly, but I knew her well enough to recognize the trepidation hidden within.
I swallowed my agitation as the dangerous glint in her eyes set my mating bond thrashing, a violent urge roaring inside me to destroy the threat she posed. But I needed to fight against it. I would not allow myself to fall into the snare of this bond. I refused to let it control me.
“A female the soul-meander has been hanging around,” I said as calmly as I could. “From what I could tell, the shadow is attached to her, though I’m not sure why.”
“What do you know about her?” Morg asked, her eyes narrowing on me like she could tell I was keeping more from her.
“Nothing,” I growled, my hands curling into tight fists by my side. “I left as soon as I saw her.”
“Zarina?” Morg kept her eyes on me, glaring.
I ground my teeth together, letting the pain keep my head clear.
This bond between the girl and me was repulsive, and I’ll continue to reject it until one of us dies.
There was no reason to bring up what she is to me, to explain what she’s supposed to be to either Morg or Zarina.
“Her name is Sybil,” Zarina said flatly, as if she were reciting a list of information.
“She was born in Mide and brought up as a human. Her magic was bound as a child by the soul-meander, but later released from it. Since then, she has become less human. The leader of Nemo’s rebellion requested information regarding her bloodline.
From what he has explained, she has blood cells that pulse.
We have been investigating this information for a few weeks now. ”
Morg’s hand twitched on the armrests of her throne, a small indicator of recognition of what the cells could mean.
“Is there anything else?” Morg inquired. She tried to hide it, hide the tightening in her voice. But having known her for centuries, it was easy for me to catch. Morg’s eyes flicked to mine for a moment before returning to Zarina’s. A warning to keep quiet.
“No. We are still searching for information; however, that is all we know for now.”
Morg nodded, her brows pinching in thought.
“Thank you, Zarina. You may leave now.” Zarina moved to return to Nemos when Morg called out her name again.
Zarina slowly turned around, tension gathering in her shoulders.
“The next time I find you in my court without my permission, you will be punished. Is that clear?”
Zarina studied Morg, her throat bobbing. “Yes, Queen Morgiana.”
When Zarina disappeared in a ball of water, Morg let out a vicious curse. “I need you to return to Nemos.”
“No.” I stared at Morg, my lips pressing into a thin line when her gaze slowly found mine. Black veins crept up along her neck and jaw.
“I will not ask you again, Soren,” Morg breathed, her voice beginning to sound otherworldly from her control loosening on her magic.