Chapter 38
Alora
For one awful heartbeat, the air vanished from Alora’s lungs. As if the space had shrunk around her with impending doom.
Bound.
The word drummed against her chest. Rune had said they were, but she didn’t know it meant she would never be safe from him.
Her first instinct wasn’t to run. It was to protect.
Caelum.
Zinnia.
Everyone in the borough who had no idea what kind of nightmare could step out of the shadows at any moment. Her stomach turned cold and tight. She should never have come here.
The candle flames shivered, and the shadows deepened.
She could feel him like a prickling on the back of her neck. The bond beat like a warning bell she couldn’t un-hear.
Alora whispered, barely breathing, “He’s coming.”
Nexus hissed, fur bristling.
“Go,” she whispered and the kitten dashed out of her open window.
The candle flame thinned and went out. Cold rose from the floorboards like breath from a tomb as the doorway blackened, shadows peeling from it in slow ribbons. The smell of ash and winter iron flooded the room.
“I have what I need to stop him,” Alora told the others as she drew out the Sunstone dagger from her pack. “Leave! Now!”
Lady Zinnia wasted no time. She dashed out of the cottage, running for her carriage. The reins whipped and the wheels spun with magic, vanishing into the fog.
Alora pushed Caelum outside toward the clover horse as the black clouds swept over the moon.
The wind died.
“Caelum,” Alora said, barely a breath. “You need to leave, now.”
He stepped in front of her instead, shield up, blade drawn, the sigils along its spine waking with a dull silver glow. “I cannot leave without you.”
The atmosphere cracked with Rune’s arrival, dragging darkness with him. All light snuffed out, blinding Alora for a moment. Her breath came in rapid bursts, trying to see in the pitch black. Alora fell still when she sensed the heat of his presence behind her.
Her heart jolted at the cold grasp of Rune’s hand taking her throat, and he growled low in her ear. “Did you think you could so easily escape me?”
The question, the animalistic sound in that otherworldly voice, sent cold shivers down her spine.
“Kenaz!” Caelum shouted and his blade blazed with bright light. He cut through the darkness like slicing through a curtain, unveiling the yard.
The shadows lashed at Caelum, tossing him against a tree with a violent thud.
“Caelum!” Alora tried to go to him, but the claws tightened on her neck. Not to strangle but to warn her to stay. Then he released her.
A demonic creature stepped out from behind her as if the night had birthed him.
Horns curled like polished onyx above his brow.
Two immense draconic wings unfurled behind him, each crowned with a hooked crest-claw, the membrane stretched taut between ribbed spans tipped with wicked talons.
Shadows clung to him like living things.
Scales dusted his cheekbones and traced the hard planes of his chest. His claws flexed slowly at his sides, as though testing the air.
Alora’s breath stuttered. “Rune…”
He looked at her with eyes were as black as a starless void, reflecting eerily in the dark. Deep within that darkness, crimson burned like eternal flame as his gaze swept from her to Caelum.
When he spoke, his voice reverberated, layered, as if the shadows themselves carried his will. “You dare take my wife?”
“She deserves better than you, demon.” Caelum lifted his weapon and the blade blazed white, the brilliance searing against Rune’s cheek until smoke curled from his skin. “Even the light spurns you.”
He swung.
The sword struck Rune’s palm and stopped with a ringing clang, as though it had met ironstone. It hissed against his flesh. Smoke rose. The scent of scorched shadow filled the air.
“How brave,” Rune murmured. His claws tightened. “And utterly pathetic.”
The silver glyphs carved along the blade flared once in defiance, then guttered as Rune crushed the sword in his grip, splintering it cleanly in two.
Shadows snatched Caelum’s throat and lifted him into the air. He thrashed, clawing at his neck, fingers swiping through smoke. His face turned purple, gasping for air.
“Stop it!” Alora cried. “You’re killing him!”
The shadows tightened around Caelum like a noose, his eyes rolling.
“Rune.” She took a step, the wind howling as her own voice echoed. “If you kill him, I will never forgive you.”
His gaze cut to her. The atmosphere seemed to tilt around that burning stare, flickering with flame. Her heart pounded wildly. But despite her fear, she stepped closer.
“I left of my own accord,” Alora murmured. “Should you desire to punish someone then let it fall on me.”
Rune laughed softly, bearing his fangs. “Oh, I most certainly will.”
Alora swallowed at the dark promise. She continued and forced steel into her voice. “To harm him is to harm me.”
The words struck. For a heartbeat the rage flickered, revealing something raw and wounded beneath. The shadows immediately loosened and tossed Caelum aside. He hit the damp earth, wheezing for air.
Then Rune made a promise that chilled her to her bones. “I spared you twice, knight. I will not spare you a third if you return.”
Alora trembled. “Cal…”
He looked up at her, panting.
“Don’t look back.”
Affliction creased Caelum’s expression, but both knew he would die if he didn’t leave now. Caelum dragged in a ragged breath and staggered to his feet. He cast one backward look she wished he had not. Then he bolted for the clover horse and galloped away into the trees.
Her heart thudded wildly, relieved he escaped and wishing she could go with him.
As if sensing her thoughts, Rune caught her wrist and pulled her toward him.
The world narrowed to the hard line of his body towering above her and the iron of his grasp.
All she could smell was smoke and ash. He hauled her onto his shoulder, marching for the cottage.
Alora didn’t fight, her eyes wide as she took in the detail of his wings before they vanished beneath a veil of glamor.
He’d been hiding his true self from her.
They went inside and he kicked the door shut before setting her down against it.
His horns and scales had also been hidden again, but his fangs were still long, his features sharp as if he was barely holding on.
After a breath, his dark pupils returned to a glowing red that flickered with flame of the Netherworld.
The ward-sign Caelum had drawn above the lintel thrummed defiantly.
Rune glanced at it and let out a soft, humorless sound.
His deadly claws raked through it, scattering shards of wood. The silver sigil tore like parchment, sparks spitting and dying as the mark split and bled dull light. Shadow ran over the wood like ink and swallowed the chalk whole.
“Your cottage is no sanctuary,” Rune said. “Not from me.”
The room dimmed to his breath and the sound of the trees outside holding still. Alora swallowed, mind clawing for ground.
He leaned in, the cold of him seeping through her bones. She could feel the bond roaring under her skin, a drumbeat out of time with her own.
“Did you think wards would keep me out?” Rune asked, voice almost tender, “We are tethered, Alora. I feel you, no matter where you are.”
Her breath shook but she forced her chin high. “I am not yours to cage.”
His hand slid from her wrist to her jaw. Her markings flared with light at his touch. “But you are mine.”
She tore from his grasp with a hiss, flattening herself on the door to put space between them. A stillness settled between them.
Seeing this, Rune let his hand drop and for a moment his anger faded. His glowing red eyes searched hers. “Why do you despise me so much?”
The question was raw. An unexpected, rare vulnerability seeping into his gaze. He truly wanted to understand. She hesitated, a flicker of pity sinking in her stomach.
“Because you lied,” Alora whispered. “Because every truth I pry from you cuts me open. Because my people are dying while you play king of a grave. Because you care for nothing and live for nothing but yourself.”
Something in his expression flinched. Rage returned to cover it.
“I suppose that’s true. But I will not suffer you running off with another man.” He leaned down, nose grazing her cheek. “I gave careful thought to all the ways I would punish you, Alora.” He nipped her jaw. “And how thoroughly I would remind you of who you belong to.”
Goosebumps sprouted on her skin, her heart pounding wildly. She set her palm against Rune’s chest, feeling the cold, feeling the thrum that was not her own. With her other hand, her fingers slid toward the Sunstone strapped to her thigh, the blade sleeping against her skin like a held breath.
“Will it hurt?” she whispered.
His glowing red eyes met hers and she saw the feral need in them. “Oh yes… and I will enjoy it.”
Alora stared at him, something inexplicable coiled in her chest as she took in her husband. Glamor had hidden his features again, but it flickered as if he struggled to maintain it. She could glimpse horns, the leathery wings, the dragon scales.
He was a demon.
She knew as much but to see it… Alora didn’t know whether she feel fear or thrill. She had to escape and there was but one way to do that.
She yanked out the Sunstone dagger and sprang at him with a cry.
Rune caught her wrist in his iron grip, chuckling softly. “Ah, if you wish to kill me, songbird, don’t shout it in your thoughts.”
His shadows wrenched the orange blade away and it struck the wall across from them with a twang.
“Then kill me!” Alora hissed. “I would rather die than be with you.”
Rune stilled for a breath, shadows curling like snakes beneath his feet. His sharp sigh fell over her scalp, making her shiver. Then the moonlight streamed into the cottage, and she saw what she had missed before.
The burns.