Chapter Fifteen
Nina
Aloud knock at my door jolted me awake.
I sat up, disoriented. The sheets pooled around my waist. They didn’t give me much relief in the heat. I could feel loose tufts of hair stuck against my forehead, and sweat drenched me.
There was no sunrise or sunset, and no way to know how long I had slept. The steady, constant red-drenching light from the arched windows illuminated the obsidian walls.
The knock came again, but faster this time.
I flung my legs over the edge of the bed and hurried to the wardrobe. I opened the drawers, where I had seen thin pullovers the previous time. I grabbed the first piece I saw, a black silk robe, and threw it on.
When I pulled my chambers’ door open, I found Leander on the threshold. His gaze swept over me, taking in the robe and my ruffled braid. A glint of amusement flickered in his eyes.
“Um, hi,” I said. “I wasn’t expecting to see you today.”
“I have something to show you.”
I hesitated. “You’re not going to lead me back to the Letheling, are you?”
“If I wanted to lead you into a trap, I’d have already done it.” He grinned.
My eyes dropped to his lips. A strange, tingling sensation overcame me, and I forced myself to look away before he noticed.
Since when do I go weak-kneed over a smile?
This had to be the Domain of Temptation working its tricks. I narrowed my eyes. “What’s in it for me?”
Leander leaned in and whispered. “You said you wanted answers, didn’t you?”
I shot him a sceptical glance. I’ll admit, I wanted to go with him.
Leander was proving to be one of the more charming characters in Temptation.
Not only had he saved me from Tolliver, which I still hadn’t thanked him for, but he was also teaching me to fight so that I wouldn’t fail (or die a miserable death) in some hellish landscape.
“Are you coming, or would you prefer to stay locked away in the dark?” He simply looked at me and didn’t budge. “I’ll wait, if you want to change first.”
“Fine. Hold on a second.”
I closed the door and dashed to the wardrobe once more.
I pushed the gowns aside. They were too sparkly and provocative for a walk with Leander.
My gaze fell on an indigo blazer with a high collar and velvet lining.
I paired it with a cotton shirt and tan relaxed trousers that were comfortable and stretchy.
I snatched the clothes from the wardrobe and rapidly put them on.
When I opened the door to Leander once more, I noticed the slight tug on his lips when he stared down at my outfit. If he liked my choice, he didn’t say a word. Instead, he turned and started down the hall, no doubt expecting me to follow.
And, of course, I did.
***
Leander led me through the palace, his pace effortless in the quietness. But the silence didn’t last. The whispers crept in again as we walked, stirring at the edges of my mind. I couldn’t catch the words, only the urgency of their tone, fluttering, frantic.
We left the palace, headed into the city, and soon reached a bustling market bursting with commotion and colour. Merchants yelled over one another, and laughter flowed between stalls. Most voices had the familiar lilt of Lotharia, my homeland, but some spoke in tongues I didn't recognise.
My chest was already tense with anxiety. Too much noise, too many people. Leander gestured towards the chaos with a sweeping motion. “Welcome to the Market of Desires.”
I hesitated on the threshold, my instincts screaming not to join the buzzing crowd. Leander noticed my hesitation and leaned closer.
“Everyone here is bound to Temptation by the choices they made.” His voice was a soft murmur. “Deals struck. Games lost.”
I watched as people moved through the market. Buyers with hungry eyes, merchants spotting their prey. Did souls barter away slivers of themselves for something fleeting? I had no idea what to expect of this place.
I swallowed hard.
The whispers surged louder, insistent. Were they trying to warn me? I glanced over my shoulder, but there was no one there.
“What are you trying to tell me?” I muttered.
Leander raised an eyebrow, amused. “Talking to yourself already? That’s never a good sign.”
I glared at him, then motioned for him to continue on, and I grudgingly followed.
We wove through the market, the crowd parting for Leander like water around a rock.
The souls here knew him – or, at the very least, knew better than to get in his way.
Perhaps the General of the Thorns was a mighty figure, bringing fear to even the dead.
As we passed, I peeked inside the stalls, only to find leering eyes and beckoning hands.
Under black silk canopies, tables were overflowing with wares.
The air was full of clashing scents: cinnamon, salt, and something foul that turned my stomach.
Merchants shook glass jars and waved lengths of fabric and sparkling necklaces, trying to lure me closer.
One stall offered glass figurines, their delicate faces twisted in pain.
The next stall sold neat squares of cake and truffles, the sweetness of which made my mouth dry.
Then came a table packed with crystal vials pulsating with liquid light.
Some of the labels read: Joy, Grief, and Ecstasy.
When we wandered by another potion stall, a merchant grabbed my wrist. His complexion was pale, and his bony fingers were bitterly cold. "Be careful,” he croaked. "What you want may not be what you need. I have just the thing to soothe a troubled heart.”
I snatched my arm back, cringing at his touch.
Leander cleared his throat, and then placed a firm hand on my lower back, guiding me away. “Ignore them. No one will force you to buy something against your will. This might be Hell, but we’re not all monsters.”
I raised my eyebrow. “I call bullshit,” I whispered. If Leander had heard me, he didn’t take the bait.
The path of stalls curled like a spiral, looping inward, and we followed it all the way until we reached a square at the centre of the market.
Around the edge stood ornate obelisks. Their sides were inlaid with diamonds. At their bases, dozens of stone hands reached upwards, as though the obelisks stood atop them.
I stopped, glancing around the circle. “What is this place?”
Leander’s expression softened. “Monuments to the demons of Hell.”
My gaze traced the ring of statues until I noticed a crater in the ground, where an obelisk might have once stood but had been ripped out. I quickly counted six remaining obelisks, and the question was burning on my tongue.
I turned to Leander. “What happened to the seventh demon?”
He didn’t answer. His gaze flicked briefly toward the crater, then back towards the market.
“Who was the seventh?” I pressed.
Leander’s voice came quietly. “His name was Salazar.”
“So, he’s gone now?”
“Yes.”
I hesitated. “What happened to him? Is it connected to The Cycle?”
His eyes met mine, and for a moment, the playful veneer cracked. “You’re the most curious cat in all of Hell. Why all the questions?”
I watched him, searching his face. “Well, you were a Champion once, weren’t you? I thought you’d have some answers.”
Leander’s laughter broke the tension. “No,” he said lightly. “I was never a Champion. I was here before The Cycle began.”
I blinked. “Before? How long ago was that?”
He smiled faintly. “A hundred years, perhaps more.”
Ohh . . . Leander is old.
Before I could ask more questions, he flashed me a grin. “Come. Let’s head back.” But even as he led me away, my mind stayed behind with the obelisks. Most of all, I wondered what became of the demon they called Salazar.
Merchants heckled from their stalls, their voices shrill and irritating.
Some hissed, others sang, each promise slick with temptation.
Nights of passion, pleasures beyond flesh, a false memory, a lost memory, anything my heart desired, all for a price.
A tooth. One lock of hair. An eye. The cost was never coin.
“What good is a piece of my hair?” I asked Leander.
“Why did you bring me here?” My voice came out harsher than I intended, but the market pressed in on all sides – heat, a crush of bodies and voices.
“Even in Hell, people crave comfort. That’s what you’ll get here. Everything has its price, but you can negotiate.”
“It’s quite . . . magical, I guess.”
“This domain is not the worst place in Hell. Lots of souls choose to be bound here over the others because here they can still feel pleasure, instead of pain.”
Staying here wasn’t the worst idea I’d had lately. But Tobias wasn’t here, and Hell wasn’t home without him.
“Corruption devours. Fear distorts. And Torment?” His eyes darkened. “That one doesn’t need an explanation.”
I hesitated. “So you’ve been to the other domains?”
He nodded slowly. “That’s why I know you belong here. Temptation offers what you crave. If it consumes you, well . . . is that truly worse than the alternatives?”
I hated that his words made sense. I glanced up at the Palace of Temptation and wondered if I might survive here.
From a balcony above, a figure stood watching. It was Elise, her silky dark curls framing her face. She looked envious and twisted with rage. I wondered if it was my presence to Leander, or just my presence that had irked her.
I turned back to Leander. “You seem intent on making me comfortable here. Why?”
He smiled, but something in his cobalt-blue eyes darkened. “Is that such a crime?”
The way he said it, light and teasing, made something twist in my chest.
The merchant from the stall of mirrors stepped forward, grabbing me by the wrist. “A glimpse of a loved one’s fate?” She lifted a glass shard, its surface rippling like water.
I stepped back instinctively, wrenching my arm free. “No . . . no, thank you.”
She reached for another object, a vial filled with silver smoke. “Rewrite a mistake. A single moment, undone. All I ask is—”
“You should know by now when you’ve been given your answer.” Leander’s voice was firm, cutting through the air like a blade.