A Kingdom of Death & Darkness (The Dark Lands Duet #2)

Chapter 1

ONE

Crymson

I try not to look at him, but that radiating pulse within him seeps right into me, and I find myself side-eyeing the Thorn King once again.

Even among the smoke and ash, the thorns piercing his skin glint with a shine like daggers dipped in ink.

They frame his eyes like a peculiar mask.

His long hair is tied back with braids and bones, the locks as dark as a raven’s wings.

He’s enormous in size, his leathery wingspan giving him a godly appearance of height and power.

And I’m supposed to believe this man is my dear sweet kin?

No. That’s a lie. Whatever he is and whatever magic that binds us isn’t something I want.

Pain strikes my heart then. A pulse of heat and stabbing agony splits my chest, and I fold on impact, my hand bracing against my knee as I take one deep breath after the other.

Thorn halts immediately. As does Seven. And as does the entire fae army following behind us.

“Thorn,” the King’s friend says slowly, carefully, “It’s not safe to carry on at this pace.”

The Thorn King doesn’t reply. He keeps his cruel blue eyes shifting around the smoky land, looking for something, but what, I don’t know. Ultimately, his gaze drags back to me. I feel his concern as he stares, but I refuse to meet his gaze.

I push myself up and swallow down the lingering throbbing that’s fading in my chest. I ignore it. I have to. I don’t know what the pain is, but it feels strangely what heartache sounds like.

“It’s your mating mark resisting the distance,” Seven says on an absent breath. “I feel it too.”

My lips part, and I watch him walk on into the darkness, the heavens beyond him gleaming with a fiery hue that illuminates the dark hanging clouds above.

“Can we not take the dragons?” I feel ridiculous even asking that. I say it casually like we might take the train or the bus across town. Let’s just hop aboard a dragon to save a bit of time, you know?

“They are forbidden in the Blood Kingdom. They’re at the borders waiting for us.

” The King gives a slight glance to his fae friend, and the look alone sends the man into action.

He leaves the King’s side, and stark leather wings spread wide from his broad shoulder blades.

He kicks off from the ground with so much power, the dust and dirt swirl erratically around us.

The ashen smoke swallows him up. And he’s gone.

“Let me fly you there. It’s much safer,” the Thorn King says, stopping dead in front of me, causing my feet to scuff the toes of big black boots.

I peer up at the man who’s supposed to be my kin. Love should be between us.

Only rage resides there though. Hot tears sting my eyes from the ash-kissed wind, and I hate how weak that must make me look.

He didn’t care about leaving me in the foster system for the first seventeen years of my life.

He didn’t care about the men who would take advantage of me in every single house I was supposed to call a home. He didn’t give one fuck about me.

He’s not allowed to pretend he cares at all about my safety.

“If Seven has to walk the Dark Lands, then I will too.” I shove past his enormous frame, but both men are hot on my heels.

“Crymson, go with him. I’ll meet you at the borders in no time,” Seven whispers in a rush of words.

“I’ll walk.”

“Let me carry you then. Let me get us there faster,” the vampire offers.

“How do I know you won’t escape with her?” the King asks sternly.

“Because we came of our own free will,” Seven fires back.

“Is free will something Prince Christian gives to all of his slaves?”

Seven stops hard at my side, and in three big steps. the lean vampire is chest to chest with the Thorn King. The King looks down on the man who stands a full foot shorter than himself. But there’s a dark rage that thrums through both of them as their glares fully collide.

Jesus, how did every man in my life become so fucking exhausting?

The sounds of their heated words turn to muttering when I pass them by and carry on in the direction we were headed.

A few warriors, their faces painted in that same stark black war paint, eye me.

It’s like a mask of ink smeared across watchful gleaming eyes.

Their attention slips from me to Thorn and then back again.

Ultimately, everyone waits for their King to finish having a dick-measuring contest. I don’t know why he would because Seven is a hundred and ten percent a grow-er.

The hot smoke swallows me up, but I can’t help the smirk that touches my lips as I think about Seven’s magical cock abilities. I wonder if he’d let me test just how big he could get. If we fill a tub of water, will it just slowly turn into the most enthralling and useless submarine known to man?

The smirk grows larger against my lips.

But then . . . chilling laughter trickles around me. Their haunting amusement starts low and slow. Like a secret.

My steps halt. My gaze drifts slowly around the open nothingness. I can’t see five feet in front of me. But I definitely heard it.

“Seven?”

I turn fully, looking out and searching the smoke for him or the King . . . or anyone. It feels incredibly isolating now. It’s a crawling, scratching feeling across my skin. Because it may seem that I’m alone, but it doesn’t feel like it.

Someone’s here.

“Seven?” My voice shakes unintentionally, and I have to swallow down the sudden sensation of being watched.

I’m being ridiculous, I know. An entire fae army is just behind me somewhere.

Of course, I don’t feel like I’m alone. The cast of my shadow before me is somehow distorted, the strange light from the burning forest only adding to the illusion that I’m alone.

I glance behind me, looking for those I came with .

. . to see the swirling smoke and nothing else.

“Thorn?” I say hesitantly. Normally, I wouldn’t call for the Fae King asshole, but . . . unease trickles down my spine. Something feels off. I take a step back, unsure what to do, when I hear it.

A soft scraping sound like that of someone dragging their feet.

“Seven?” I say, tense, peering through the smoke in hope of seeing the vampire I know.

One sound turns into many and then comes from every direction. I don’t know what it is, who it is, and I spin, searching for the source, hoping it’s just the army coming closer. But the army had a more uniform gait. This? This sounds chaotic.

“Seven?” I repeat louder, a little more frantic. Even I can hear the fear in my voice, and I hate it. I’m a badass bitch. I survived in the Vampire Court long enough to get here. There shouldn't be anything out in the Dark Lands that scares me.

But . . . it does.

This is a new unknown. I don’t know what’s coming through the smoke. I don’t know if it’s the Thorn King, Seven, the whole army, but my instincts tell me that this is wrong, that whatever is coming is bad.

Very bad.

The smoke swirls in front of me, and I narrow my eyes, trying to peer closer at whatever is moving.

At first, all I can see is the haze swirling from whatever moves within.

And then a leg appears, shambling forward with aching slowness.

My eyes trail up from the leg as the . .

. creature . . . steps fully forward. I get a good look at what it is and realize that there are indeed things in the Dark Lands that I should be afraid of.

“Seven!” I scream, my voice scraping with fear so loudly, it echoes out into the nothingness.

I hope they’re close enough to hear me, that they can maneuver within the smoky Dark Lands better than I can. I turn, prepared to run, only to realize there’s another creature behind me. Slowly, they break out of the smoke, closing in, and my heart seizes.

I thought vampires were the worst thing I had to worry about. Maybe the dark fae. But these things? They’re horrifying. Skin gray and rotting, eyes black as night . . . it feels like I’m in a horror movie as they amble toward me, their gaping maws clicking open and shut over and over again.

A flicker of movement appears at my side and I scream before I realize it’s Seven.

Relief fills me, washing through my chest and calming the thrashing of my heart all at once.

Oh. Oh, good. I’m safe now. But Seven’s expression is anything but relieved.

In fact, there’s a hint of fear in his eyes that makes me rethink my own relief.

“What are these things?” I grunt, pressing against his side and refusing to leave him for a single second. He keeps his arms cautiously out in front of me, his lips peeled back in a warning of a snarl at the things closing in.

“The Dead,” he answers, like that’s not the most terrifying thing I’ve ever heard, and then proceeds to lurch toward them, a blade in his hand I never saw him holding. The sleek fae metal gleams as he arcs it high above his head just to bring it down in one swift move.

I shriek as he cuts the first down, but there are so many.

The thud of the first body barely hits the ground before another one is right there to take its place.

We’re surrounded by an easy two dozen of the creatures, all ambling closer with a speed like death.

I guess because they’re actually dead. I don’t know. I don’t know what these things are.

“Stay in the middle!” Seven shouts at me, and I try to do what he says even as he starts to swirl around the clearing, trying to cut them all down. The problem is, for every creature he drops, two more appear out of the smoke, until I’m not sure we’re going to make it out of this.

I shove at the arms that reach for me, wishing like hell I had a stolen fae sword of my own to try to do something with. Anything. Anything is better than the kicking and flailing I’m doing now.

Seven’s back hits mine, and he stumbles.