Chapter 46
Korithax
The second we land, I finally let myself breathe.
Not because we’re safe—we aren’t. But because we’re no longer within arm’s reach of the Divine Six. And that has to count for something.
I have no idea how the fuck they found us, but hopefully they have no idea where we’re heading, and why. Even if they did, I didn’t think they’d follow us here. This is the only realm they don’t bother with. They gave up a long time ago on trying to police this realm, and I couldn’t fault them.
“Are you okay?” I ask, catching Daisy before she stumbles.
Her legs wobble from the sudden transition, but she steadies herself, clinging to me like I’m the only stable thing left in her world.
She nods, taking a deep breath. But the second her eyes take in our surroundings, they widen.
And unlike the other realms, it’s not a pleasant look that follows after.
“This is Noxthrallia?” She whispers.
“Yes,” I answer grimly. “Welcome to the final realm of our journey.”
A shiver runs down her spine, and I feel it in my bones. The atmosphere here sinks into the skin like rot—thick, humid, and laced with something so heavy and dark it makes the hairs on my arms rise. It’s a realm that doesn’t just want to destroy you; it wants to know what you ache for first.
“Gods,” she murmurs, eyes scanning the murky bogs and twisted trees. “This place makes Hell sound like a fairytale.”
I can’t help but smirk. “Well, it is, isn’t it? After all, your Prince Charming came from there.”
She scoffs and lightly pushes at my chest. “Prince? Sure. Charming? Not even a little.”
“Rude.” I scowl, and she just winks back at me.
I take her hand in mine as we start walking, the action just instinct now. Never in my twenty-thousand years of life did I think holding hands would be something I would enjoy, but the feel of her tiny palm in mine is a comfort I’ve grown to crave.
The ground beneath us is spongy with black moss that’s coiled around ancient roots of gnarled trees. The air smells like wet earth and death. Whispers cling to every gust of wind, brushing against the backs of our necks like cold, dead fingers that we can’t slap away.
“This is the realm of dark magic,” I murmur. “Where corruption is currency, and desire is poison. The creatures here… they don’t need to hunt you. They just wait until you want something badly enough to beg. Then they give it to you, for a price.”
We follow the narrow, half-submerged path winding toward the northern swamplands, where Maelkar Vyre—the Shadowtongue—keeps his throne made of stolen souls and blackened bone.
A palace sits there, built from the broken bodies of his victims. Some of them human, some of them creatures of the realms, some of them mine.
I grit my teeth at the thought of seeing him perched upon the bones of my people.
This isn’t about me though; it’s about her.
Turning her immortal. This is the place she becomes stronger, less fragile, less breakable.
And I’ll ensure that here, nothing hurts her.
I will burn this entire fucking realm to nothing but blackened ash before I let it harm her.
We pass a bog that gurgles as something shifts beneath the surface, causing ripples to spread across the murky water. We’re already being watched. The whispers seem to grow louder the further we walk, coming from the bogs and the bones beneath our feet.
Daisy flinches beside me. “What was that?” She gasps, pressing close to my side.
I follow her gaze. In the bog, just beneath the veil of darkness, a pair of eyes gleam—dead, glassy, and completely void of thought.
“That,” I say grimly, “is a Vyreshade. Creatures made by Maelkar from corrupted beings—mortal, fae, demon, even gods. They come seeking desires, and when their deals run dry, he strips their souls and twists them into those things. Now they drag others into the dark and feast.”
Her grip tightens on my hand as I feel her fear vibrating around her.
“They’re not just here,” I continue. “He sends some into other realms disguised as temptation. A perfect lover, a lost child, a promise of peace. They’re all the same in the end—bait.”
Her voice is small. “So… he’s worse than you. No offence.”
I nod once. “So much worse. I take souls in trade for their wants, with no trickery. He takes everything, the deals lasting as long as he wants them to. I await death before collecting. He collects whenever he likes.”
A beat of silence. Then, quietly, she asks, "Was this really the only way to make me immortal?”
My jaw clenches. “Only dark magic can turn a person immortal from mortal. And Maelkar is the only dark magic wielder that I know of. Although I’m sure it won’t come without a price.”
Her swallow is so loud it’s audible even above the whispers. I grip her close, hooking her chin up to look at me. “I’ll keep you safe, Daisy. I won’t fail you again.”
She frowns. “You have never failed me, Korithax.”
I look away from her gaze, knowing damn well that her words weren’t true.
“Look at me,” she says.
I look down at her again, her ocean-blue eyes glowing with purity, even here. “You saved me, Kori.”
She chews her lip, like she’s nervous for whatever she’s about to say next.
But before she gets a chance, a loud screech sounds from the sky, and I drag her back against my chest instinctively, my wings exploding from my back with a loud whoosh.
My magic reserves are low—dangerously low—but I know exactly what’s lurking above, and if I need a quick escape, by foot wasn’t going to work.
“What the hell was that?” Daisy asks, eyes darting skyward.
“A Velgrithon,” I mutter. “A flying predator that looks similar to a gargoyle with venom for blood. And no, it’s not friendly.”
She groans. “Of course it isn’t.”
“Nothing here is, little flower,” I say. “Not even Maelkar. Especially not Maelkar. Remember that.”
I don’t put away my wings, even though they feel like they’re carved from stone now. We walk deeper into the mire, the path ahead winding into shadow. Daisy presses close, and I feel her tremble. I wrap an arm around her, trying my best to make her feel as safe as possible.
“I won’t let anything happen to you,” I promise. “Even if I have to rip out my soul and hand it to Maelkar myself.”
Just as I finish my sentence, the whispers halt, and the sudden silence feels so much worse.
Because now we’re being watched, but not by the dead—by something very, very alive.
We’ve reached the edge of Maelkar’s domain, the bones beneath our feet glowing faintly violet, like veins of corruption threading through the land.
The Shadowtongue knows we’re here. And he’s waiting.
“Fuck” I breathe, frustration biting into every word.
“What? What is it?” Daisy asks, her voice laced with panic.
“He knows we’re here.” I clench my jaw. “I wanted time to build my reserves before facing him. But I guess we don’t have that luxury today.”
The whispers suddenly start again. This time, much louder, more frantic, and coming from every single direction. My heart pounds against my ribs as I brace myself, forcing my mental shields up. I lock every desire, every weakness, behind a wall of impenetrable stone in my mind.
Daisy throws her hands over her ears, her breathing turning rapid.
Her eyes squeeze shut as she whimpers, stumbling into me to bury her face into my chest as she shakes her head violently.
Shit. I should’ve prepared her better and taught her how to shield her mind before ever bringing her here.
It’s too easy to forget that she’s mortal, that she’s untrained.
And this realm is poison to the unguarded mind.
I wrap my arms around her, then unfurl my wings, pulling them tight around us like a shield. We’re wrapped entirely in me now—a cocoon of bone, leathery skin, and muscle.
“Shh, you’re okay,” I whisper, my mouth at her temple. “Daisy, listen to me. I need you to picture a door in your mind. A heavy one, okay? Put every want, every need behind that door and slam it shut. Hard!”
She shakes her head again, her entire body trembling as she whimpers softly against me.
“Try harder, Daisy. Slam that fucking door.”
Her body stiffens, her whimpers turning more frantic as her breaths coming in fast and hard.
I grip onto her tightly, my heart racing in panic, but slowly, she stills as a calmness takes over her.
Her breathing begins to slow, and I watch her eyes screw tight as a faint furrow forms between her brows.
I watch her intently, not wanting to break her concentration.
Come on, little flower, you can do this.
She slowly lifts her hands from her ears and blinks up at me, her face glistening with sweat.
“I did it,” she whispers, her voice trembling slightly. “I slammed the door.”
A slow, wicked smile curves my lips as I lower my mouth to hers. I kiss her gently, letting my wings begin to unfold. “Well done, my sunshine.”
“Well, well, well…” A smooth, velvet voice cuts through the air like a poisoned blade. “Look at what the cat dragged in.”
I glance up, immediately placing the source. Maelkar Vyre.
He stands barefoot on the murky path, dark purple robes swirling around him like smoke.
His shoulder-length inky waves glisten, drenched like he’s just emerged from the bog himself.
His skin is slick midnight, laced with glowing violet veins.
Bone and silver trinkets sway from his ears and neck, clinking faintly with every movement.
And his eyes—pitch black, with a thin glowing ring of violet—lock onto mine with amusement.
A too-perfect, chilling smile stretches his lips. Warm yet wrong. Kind yet predatory.
“Keep your walls up,” I murmur to Daisy. “Keep that door locked tight.”
She nods once, stepping slightly behind me.
“Maelkar,” I greet, voice cold.