Chapter Forty-Seven King Herric The Evanescence The Second Age
“Can I get you a drink?” Zerra asked from where she lounged across the room, her elbow propped up on the back of her chair and her tanned legs bared by the slit in her dress. She rubbed her thighs together and licked her lips as she stared at Herric. “Why are you all the way over there?”
Herric pushed himself from the pillar where he was leaning, ran a hand through his hair, and strode over, settling into a closer seat. She reached over and adjusted the collar of his shirt.
“Hmm?” she prompted, and he nodded. “Anything, my dear?”
“Some water would be good.”
It had been years of capitulating to Zerra’s invitations, arriving to service her with his head or his hips between her thighs. While he hadn’t minded at first—he’d even enjoyed it for a time—he was growing weary of this mundane relationship. If that’s what one could call it. There was no passion here, only duty and necessity.
One of Zerra’s servants arrived with the promised drink balanced on a silver tray. She bent low, giving him an eyeful of cleavage.
That’s all this place was. Sex and drinking masquerading as this sham of the divine. Zerra was meant to be ruling over Ouranos, not partaking in the same vacuous entertainment she’d indulged as a mortal. For the millionth time, Herric wondered what the Empyrium had been thinking when they’d chosen her.
Soon, he hoped, it wouldn’t matter.
Today, he would test the theory he’d been working on for years.
Around his finger he swirled a ring made of the same glittering black stone his workers had mined from the mountain. The same enchanted material recovered after the collapse.
He’d spent countless hours testing its properties, and it hadn’t taken long to realize he could channel magic through it. Not only that, he could use it to amplify and control the gifts he’d received when he ascended to High Fae.
He had his crews working around the clock as they pulled up more of the material. Herric had built an entire castle from it, confident in the protection of the stone that surrounded him, which he had dubbed virulence.
On one of his visits to the Evanescence, he’d channeled a thread of magic through his ring, and shortly after, Zerra had complained of a headache. She’d then taken to her bed for the rest of his visit.
At first, he’d thought nothing of it. But then he began to notice a pattern. Anytime he made use of the stone while visiting the heavens, Zerra would take ill. Over time, he worked with the theory that somehow, it was affecting her.
“You’re quiet today,” Zerra said, dragging a hand down his chest, before she fisted her hand in his shirt and dragged him closer. Her touch was starting to make his skin crawl, but he would endure this for as long as it took. Today, he would verify his hypothesis with a larger surge of magic channeled through his ring.
“Just tired,” he said with a tight smile as he took a sip of his water.
“Poor baby,” she cooed as she slid off her velvet lounger and dropped to her knees, peering up at him with a coy flutter of her lashes. “Maybe I can help.”
She undid his belt, then the button on his waistband as he tried his best not to tense up. He’d loved this once—she was very skilled, and he’d never put much stock into love or feelings—but he was over it. She was pathetic and desperate, and he was mentally done with her and this entire place.
This all belonged to him, and he intended to take it.
He stopped her from proceeding, snagging her chin in the cup of his hand as she gave him a quizzical look. He channeled his magic out, spiraling colorful whirls of light as Zerra’s smile stretched.
“Your magic is so lovely, Herric,” she said.
“I’m glad you like it.”
Then he forced it through his ring as she continued to watch the patterns he sketched. It took several moments before Zerra sighed, pressing her hand to her forehead as she sat back.
“I’m suddenly not feeling well,” she said as he funneled more magic into the ring.
“Why don’t you lie down?” he asked, helping her back to her seat. “Close your eyes.”
She nodded as her lids drifted shut, and he used the opportunity to filter out a stronger thread of magic. He stood over her as she lay oblivious, more and more magic surging into his ring.
Gods, how he loathed her. He wanted to kill her. He wanted to end her.
He would destroy her and make sure everyone knew what a wastrel she’d been.
But this wasn’t working. While it was causing her plenty of discomfort, this wasn’t killing her.
He sliced off the source of his magic and watched her, his chest heaving with the effort of expending so much power. The sound of his serrated breaths roused her from her stupor, and whatever she saw in his eyes caused her expression to pale.
“Herric?” she asked, sitting up as she tried to scramble back. “What’s wrong?”
“Zerra,” he snarled, his hands balling into fists.
“Get out,” she said, her voice wavering as she tumbled over the back of her divan. “Get out!”
She clung to the furniture, screaming at him to back away. Terror rolled in her eyes.
He realized he’d made a mistake. He’d been too impatient. Pushed too far and revealed his hand.
A moment later, he found himself once again on the surface, standing alone in the middle of the wind-whipped mountains under the dark Aurora sky.
“Zerra!” he screamed at the stars, and he wasn’t surprised when no answer came.
She couldn’t reach him down here, but neither could he return to the heavens without her invitation.
But that was okay.
It was obvious he couldn’t kill her himself.
This needed more strength than he possessed on his own.
But now… he had a plan.