Chapter 37 Prince Sloth #2
Pages flared open, flapping like wings, words burning themselves onto parchment as if written by an unseen hand. With every line etched, the air grew heavier, darker, until the book hovered fully formed above the ruin, thrumming with a power that bent the very air around it.
My breath hitched; this was no artifact anymore—it was alive.
The shadow warriors closed in, their blades whispering against the stone.
“Halt.” Lore’s voice brooked no argument.
The Nocturnas stopped at once.
For one heartbeat, time seemed to hold too.
The book’s whispering pages stilled, the shadows drew tight, and the silence pressed down like the weight of a world about to break. Only Lore didn’t seem afraid. Her expression was one of pure determination.
“Rise, Aurora.”
I stared at my mate, and suddenly I understood.
The pages snapped faster, a blur of gold and shadow, until the sound was no longer paper but the thunder of wings. Light burst from between the covers, molten and blinding, and the book tore itself apart in a storm of fire.
From the blaze, a shape unfolded. Vast wings stretching nearly as wide as the throne room itself, every feather a shard of flame edged in shadow. Its cry split the air, shaking the walls and damn near rattling the marrow in my bones.
I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. The original phoenix hadn’t disappeared from the world like legends and lore suggested; it had been imprisoned in the dark book this whole time.
The phoenix that had been trapped in the Liber Noctem rose higher, its body both fire and flesh, talons gouging through stone as though it were sand.
This was the very creature whose sorrow had broken a goddess.
Whose pain had turned Nyantha from the Goddess of Night into the Goddess of Nightmares.
Heat rolled across the chamber in waves, scalding the air, bending the blades of the shadow legion as if even steel bowed to its return.
For a moment, I could only stare, transfixed by the terrible beauty of it, the shimmer of gold in its inferno, the eternal hunger burning in its eyes.
It turned those fathomless eyes on my mate and recognition flickered there. Along with something much deeper and more tender.
Awe warred with dread in my chest as the bird lifted its head and cried out again, this time in victory.
This was no rebirth. This was a release. An ancient goddess of flame and ruin had been unbound, and we were all standing in its shadow.
Lore stepped forward, flames snapping at her skirts, but she didn’t falter.
She steadily raised her hand, and the fire bent back, collapsing into sparks that floated around her like falling embers.
I held my breath as the phoenix dipped low, its massive head bowing until its beak brushed her palm. Magic pulsed against her skin, fierce but tender.
“We’re free, my friend. Go. Live. I’ll dream up a world where your mate survived. I vow on my life’s blood.”
The bird’s chest swelled, wings snapping open with a sound like thunder.
A blast of wind tore through the chamber as it leapt skyward, crashing through the stained-glass mural of its own likeness.
Shards of crimson and gold rained down, glittering as light streamed through the broken window. For a heartbeat, the throne room glowed with its fire; then the brilliance was gone, carried with it into the night.
Almost instantly, the world around us began to fracture and shift.
The grotesque art melted from nightmares into dreamscapes.
The columns that had been carved with scenes of violence and brutality were replaced by devastating beauty.
Winged creatures, flowers, joy, and love.
This was what the Court of Fear had once been before Nyantha arrived: the Court of Daydreams. The walls turned opalescent and shimmered; the incense that burned now smelled sweet and inviting.
It was one of the most serene, lovely spaces I’d ever seen.
All because the Liber Noctem, the book I’d chased across realms, across time, was no more. A strange sort of peace settled in me.
The feeling didn’t last.
The Nocturnas turned their weapons on us, fury radiating out from them.
I swore.
“Maybe you should try calling them off,” I said, slowly backing away from the encroaching horde.
Lore flashed me an incredulous look. “They’re not like puppies. They are sentient, ancient beings and they are very upset right now.”
I snorted.
That was the understatement of the century.
The shadow warriors had only known fierce loyalty for their deity. And they’d expected her to feed their thirst for fear in payment for their blades.
Lore wasn’t providing them with sustenance. And they did not take the change lightly. They seethed with fury as betrayal burned in their eyes.
The Trials might be over, the Liber Noctem rendered inert, but we hadn’t survived the story yet.
Nocturnas surged toward Lore, their amorphous figures solidifying with each forward step, swinging weapons that glinted in the firelight.
I hadn’t known they could turn corporeal in this realm.
This was not good. But I was aching for a fight.
I gripped my dagger tightly, its cold hilt pressed against my palm, and launched myself into the advancing line of shadow soldiers.
I navigated the deadly dance of combat the way I always had. Each strike was precise, every controlled stab landing a lethal blow for maximum impact.
Every time one opponent went down, I spun to take on the next. My mind locked onto battle strategies, clear of all other distractions.
The clang and clash of steel meeting steel reverberated off the walls of the throne room in a symphony of violence.
I fought my way to Lore, felling soldiers and taking hits. I ignored the sting of a strike landing, knowing my healing magic would take care of the worst blows.
Now that the Liber Noctem had been excised from my body, I already felt stronger.
I had no idea how Lore pieced together the cause of my draining magic or that the key to removing it was the dagger and phoenix tear, but I wasn’t surprised by her brilliance. She loved mystery novels and had solved this one in the nick of time.
Soon my mate and I stood side by side, our backs pressed together, creating a defensive circle as our enemies closed ranks around us.
I thrilled at the fight, throwing elbows and launching kicks.
My blade cut through the air, leaving trails of destruction every time I brought it down. And as the shadow warriors fell, their bodies dissipated into nothingness, swept away on an invisible wind.
Lore released a battle cry and moved with lethal grace as she stabbed, retreated, and pivoted in her own brutal dance of death.
The warriors attacked with the unstable force of an enemy that knew they needed to give their all now or suffer defeat.
They charged me, roaring their fury, their swords crashing against my blade with all the power they had, pushing me backward with each frantic blow.
The lead Nocturna of this final bid for annihilation dove at me. I just managed to sidestep it and went to drive my blade into its chest but missed.
It doubled back, its sword slashing a line of fire down my chest.
Blood splattered across its face, its black lizard-like tongue swiping it away.
“Sick fuck.”
I swung at it with all my might, delivering a powerful blow that severed its head cleanly.
The next group was on me before I’d recovered.
Their eyes burned with rage, and the desperation of having nothing left to lose made them even more perilous opponents.
I drove my fists into their jaws with the full force of a Prince of Sin’s powers, feeling the jarring impact as they crumpled to the ground, unconscious.
While they were dazed, I sliced my blade cleanly across their throats, the sharp edge leaving a trail of crimson in its wake before they vanished to nothing.
Another Nocturna lunged at my shoulder with a snarl, its fetid breath hot against my skin.
I spun quickly, driving my elbow into what remained of its disfigured face.
The next wave of Nocturnas didn’t fully form into physical beings. But with my magic at full force, that didn’t stop me.
I unleashed my wings from where I’d magicked them and knocked several shadow wraiths back.
“You do have wings! We’re going to have so much fun with them.”
I spared a glance at Lore. She was still carving her own swath through her former army, her eyes bright and her face split into an infectious grin as she took in my true form.
Lust was going to lose his mind when he met her.
I thrust my blade into the shadowy chest of the nearest wraith, feeling its half-spectral body fully form before yanking the blade free with a spray of dark mist.
The next Nocturna lunged at me, its glowing eyes flickering with malice, but I was faster, slicing through its insubstantial form with a single stroke.
The battlefield was still a blur of motion as I continued fighting my way through the legion of warriors. Each fallen wraith dissolved into nothingness at my feet, and soon the chamber was nearly emptied.
I caught glimpses of Lore and had never been prouder to call her my mate.
I’d been distracted and didn’t notice the last of the horde coming for me.
Lore didn’t miss. She spun around, expression like that of an avenging angel, and unleashed a torrent of magic that burned a hole through the remaining warriors; they evaporated into nothing.
The sudden stillness that followed was almost oppressive.
Her chest heaved with exertion as she glanced around at the silent chamber. Sadness permeated the space around her.
“I’d been trying to avoid killing them all. It didn’t feel right… all things considered.”
She closed her eyes, and I watched, transfixed, as her shadows—now glittering, multitoned, and beautiful—swirled around us and shot through the broken windows and raced across the world.
I glanced outside and noticed the changes to this realm—the soft blue sky, the pillowy clouds, the winged unicorns soaring in the distance.