Chapter 12
VALEEN
T he last time Valeen was in Calladira, she’d snuck into the lord’s Manor where Thane had killed their ruler and Varlett had chased them out of the city by setting it on fire.
So much had happened between then and now.
She felt like a different person setting foot on the soft green grass below her feet.
For a moment she wondered where Varlett was.
The fountain at the town square was surrounded by children laughing and splashing in it. Their sacred tree that had burned the previous year blossomed with white blooms and new green buds, but the char covering the trunk showed the remnants of the fire.
Hel pulled up his black hood and turned to face her. “Wait here.”
Did he really think she came here to just watch from afar? “I’m not?—”
He vanished before she could finish. That prick.
She ground her teeth and stepped out from the shadows of the trees she hid amongst, searching for a sign of where he’d gone.
The white Lord’s manor waited at the end of the busy street.
A pair of guards in their green and brown uniforms strolled around the side of the three-tiered fountain.
She quickly slipped back into the shadows.
The gown she wore was not fit to blend into this place—a deep purple with thin straps and lace embroidery on the bodice.
Other than the ladies inside the Manor, the fashion was simple in earthy tones, greens, ivory, browns, and soft pinks. And most of them were fair-haired.
If she was recognized they’d immediately try to detain her.
A quiet hiss like wind dancing through reeds made her turn. Gray smoke swirled around Hel and beside him stood… a pale one. But not just any pale one, Mathekis.
The hairs on her arms and along her spine immediately prickled and rose.
Her magic ignited at the surface of her skin, and she itched to reach for the dagger tucked against her thigh.
But she wasn’t the elf he hunted anymore.
He wasn’t there to command her and drag her to the void.
That didn’t mean she wanted him or any pale one in close proximity. “What is he doing here?”
His black lips curled into a sinister smile, stark against his snow-white skin. His all-onyx eyes quickly gave her a once-over.
“He’s here so there’s no mistaking who I am.
” Hel’s hood shadowed his forehead and brow.
All softness vanished from him. That lovely smile she knew was nowhere to be found.
The severe set to his jaw reminded her of the dark dreams he chased her in.
Reminded her of the vengeful god who thought he’d been betrayed.
The only thing that resembled the person she loved right now were his bright garnet eyes sparkling with mischief.
“I doubt you needed him to make that a reality,” Valeen sneered.
“You have no reason to fear me, goddess,” Mathekis said. “I will not harm you. I never would have.”
Valeen glared at him and leaned closer. “Do I look afraid of you?” Her vines materialized and wrapped around his throat.
His white brows shot upward. “No.”
“Good. Because it would be that easy to end you.” She waved her hand and the vines vanished.
Out of the corner of her eye she caught Hel grinning.
He snapped his fingers, and her clothes transformed from the dress to her thick leather pants, a black corset with silver runes along the top and bottom hemlines, and purple bell sleeves.
Her dagger was still strapped to the outside of her thigh, and Zythara was now at her hip.
The boots were different than anything she’d worn in this life…
black with silver moon cycles going up to her knees.
On top of her midnight waves she felt the weight of a halo. “Is the crown necessary?”
“Yes, is it necessary for you to argue with me all the time?”
“I don’t argue all the time.”
He chuckled. “I beg to differ.”
“Oh, he smiles and laughs, very un Black Mage -like of you.”
Hel rolled his eyes, put a hand on her lower back and guided her out from the woods into the bark-covered path alongside him.
It smelled like rain had fallen recently despite the sun shining.
Woodland elves bartered and traded with the shop owners.
Giggling ladies under a booth with a white canopy were getting their hair braided.
No one seemed to notice them yet.
“Keep up the attitude Mrs. Black. I like it when you’re feisty. Start calling me names and you’ll give me a stiffy.”
“You’re unbelievable. And you better not kill these innocent children or their mothers and fathers.”
The children at the fountain stopped splashing, laughing, and playing.
The rush of the running water seemed louder now.
Their mothers snatched them out and that’s when the screaming started.
The crowd of people ran in all directions.
Tables were knocked down. Food spilled. Booths shut their curtains.
He certainly had an effect on people.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he drawled.
“I’m serious.”
“When have I ever killed children and their mothers? Why would you even think that? I thought we were past you hating me.”
Two guards ran toward them with swords drawn. Hel waved his hand and sent them flying until their backs slammed into the outside wall of a cottage with a sign above that read “apothecary”.
They didn’t get up.
“I don’t hate you,” she snapped. “I think this morning was proof of that.”
“You can still hate me and fuck me, love.”
“Ugh.” Her cheeks warmed and she glanced at Mathekis walking on Hel’s other side.
He didn’t react but he was certainly listening.
Did pale ones even have those urges? Valeen shoved her wedding ring in his face.
“I don’t hate you. I’m wearing this, aren’t I?
If I hated you, I’d throw it into the aether where no one would find it and tell you to go to the underrealm. ”
“Like you did last time?” He leaned down and his lips touched her ear. A pleasurable trill rolled down her spine. “Because I found it.”
She glared at him. “You didn’t go to the underrealm.”
He chuckled. “No, I did not. I wouldn’t be able to find you there.”
“I love you, Zaurahel.”
“Good. There’s no changing your mind now. You’re mine.” He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed the tops of her knuckles. But there was something about his cold expression that sent a shudder through her. What was he planning?
With weapons drawn, a set of three guards ran at them.
“Pale ones! The Black Mage! Kill them!” They looked as terrified as they were angry.
The screams only got louder with the guards running in.
She might have felt bad if these weren’t the same people who locked Thane in a cage, tossing rotten food at him all while laughing.
They’d taken turns cutting him while he was helpless.
“Bring everyone!” More guards came from the woods.
“No, hide!” someone else shouted. There was confusion and chaos among the people running and the guards.
An amber-haired male charged at her, screaming wildly. Valeen quickly pulled her sword but before she could bring it up to block a strike, everyone within a fifteen-foot radius went flying backward.
Bodies rolled and slammed into trees lining the roadway. A canopy toppled. The rest of the guards out of range of Hel’s magic stilled.
“I’m here to speak to your Lord. No one needs to die,” Hel announced. “Let us pass and you won’t.”
Most of the civilians were hidden now but those that remained backed off, clearing the way for them. The guards stared now.
“Oh good, you’re not all stupid.”
With his hand still on her back, they marched up the front steps of the Lord’s Manor. With a flick of Hel’s fingers, the guards crumpled to the ground, unconscious or dead, she wasn’t sure. She didn’t think about it, or guilt might start eating at her.
A breeze from Hel’s magic threw the doors open, slamming them against the wall with a crack, and they strutted inside.
“Stop right there!” A set of guards stood at the center of the red rug running down the entry to the stairs.
They raised their spears and slowly marched forward.
A couple of scantily dressed ladies squealed and darted out of sight.
She remembered all too well wearing something similar to sneak into this place.
“Where is your Lord?” Hel asked as if he’d just arrived for a dinner party. “He has guests.”
Without anyone summoning him, Aldrich emerged from a room under the stairs with an elf wearing scraps of black that barely covered her private parts, hanging on his arm.
By their laughter and general lack of acknowledgment, it was obvious he had no idea that she stood in his home with the Black Mage and a pale one.
He palmed the elf’s breast and shoved his hips against her.
“Is he drunk?” Valeen said, arching a brow.
“Well, now he’s ruined my entrance.” Hel threw his hand toward him, and Aldrich was ripped away from the maiden, slammed into the stair railing and dragged toward them like he was pulled by an invisible rope around his neck.
A vein in his forehead popped out as he struggled to breathe.
His arms were splayed out to his sides as he hung a few inches off the ground before them.
Hel stroked the side of Valeen’s cheek with the back of his hand. “Do you recognize this beautiful face?”
“Layala?” He panted. Whatever magic Hel used to hold him was cutting into his air supply. He looked at Mathekis and then back to Hel.
“This is my wife. I warned your father what would happen if she was harmed.”
“Your… what?”
“I’m sure I didn’t stutter.”
His wide eyes shifted to Valeen, full of questions and something that looked like guilt. “It’s true,” she said. “Waking him turned out to be much different than I previously thought. How are you even Lord here? You were a Prince of Palenor.”
“Because of my experience as a Raven and Lord Brunard was my cousin.”
“And?” It didn’t add up.