Chapter 7 #2
As if in answer to my silent request, a gossamer golden thread appeared in the gloom. It shimmered in the billowing shadows — the only source of light.
Wrapping my hand around it, I followed the thread through the tunnel of darkness. But rather than leading me back to the dining room in Adraeis, I sensed him .
It was everything Kaden was. Everything he’d ever been.
The bastard prince.
Taker of Souls.
A youngling clinging to his mother’s skirts.
Murderer.
Lover.
Schemer.
Servant.
A king without a kingdom.
Then the shadows began to clear, and the world bent and contorted itself into a familiar scene. The edges of the memory were blurred, but there was no mistaking where I was.
Silas’s basement.
I was lying unconscious on the floor, but I was staring down at myself from above. White dust settled in my hair. My face was pale, my leathers torn. Blood pooled around me.
A loud rushing sound filled my ears — raw, unending rage. It barreled through me like a storm, destroying everything in its wake.
Not my rage, I realized, but Kaden’s .
A masculine roar shook the basement, punctuated by a scream. Wings of death and night swept me up in their embrace, whisking me out of the memory.
I slammed back into my seat at the table, gasping as my awareness snapped back to the present.
Kaden was staring at me, his eyes wide .
For the briefest moment, he looked shaken. But any emotion was quickly snuffed out, tucked behind a mask of cool indifference.
“Interesting.”
“What is?”
“That you were able to access that memory — access my mind at all.”
“You didn’t —” I broke off, floored by the possibility that I’d slipped into his mind and seen more than he’d intended.
Before I could ask, the door to the kitchen opened again, and a troupe of fauns appeared.
Males with furry lower halves and cloven hooves marched out with trays heaped with food: spring greens garnished with fig, red onion, salted pistachios, and goat cheese; the lemon soup Freydolf had mentioned; a basket of warm, crusty bread; roasted pheasant with a crisp, buttery skin; gold potatoes flecked with sprigs of charred rosemary; and cranberry relish.
My mouth watered at the sight, but I was too curious to eat.
What had just happened? Had I slipped into Kaden’s memory against his will?
“Perhaps you should try something besides brick,” he mused as Freydolf set a plate in front of him. “It’s too obvious where the cracks will appear. Shadows and mist have no beginning. No end. An intruder is more likely to get lost trying to access my mind than be able to penetrate my shields.”
“I did,” I croaked. “I made it past your shields.”
“Yes,” said Kaden, his expression darkening. I could tell from the wary edge of his tone that he was just as bewildered as I was.
Then he shrugged, seeming to dismiss the notion that I’d indeed found a way through his mental barriers. “It will take practice to shield effectively at all times. Few are able to maintain their defenses while they sleep, for instance. But with training . . .”
“I want to try again,” I said with more boldness than I felt.
Kaden’s eyes glittered with approval.
Without another word, I took a deep breath and visualized that endless shadowy abyss. It was cold in my shadows. Dark. Utterly impossible to find a way through, but then . . .
I felt him again, hovering over my shoulder. I whipped around, but there was no one there — just more shadows that carried the faintest whiff of charred cedar.
A dark chuckle reverberated through my bones. “Nice try, little huntress,” Kaden said into my mind, stepping out of my inner sanctum as easily as he’d entered.
I ripped my concentration back to the present with a snarl of frustration.
“Why would you try to protect your mind with shadows when shadows are my thing? The darkness bows to me alone. Therefore, you will never be able to use them to keep me out.”
“I thought you said —”
“Eat,” he said, nodding at my plate. “Later, you can consider a more effective medium to shield.”
I gritted my teeth and picked up my fork, stabbing a crisp, golden potato.
Kaden raised his goblet, muttering a benediction in an ancient fae tongue I didn’t understand. “That is how it’s said in Old Drathen,” he said. “Beautiful, no?”
“You’re the demon prince. Shouldn’t you toast to consuming my soul and devouring the realms? ”
Something dangerous flickered in his expression, but his cold mask didn’t waver. “I was raised fae,” he said quietly. “The Drathen fae are my people, just as they were my mother’s people.”
My stomach tightened at the mention of his mother, but I popped the potato into my mouth and chewed to give myself time to think. “I thought all fae were the subjects of King Alfrigg.”
Kaden’s nostrils flared. “My uncle has claimed the throne of Anvalyn, it is true. But not before his armies drove my people from their lands, burned their homes, raped their females, and slaughtered their younglings. The first step in his campaign to cleanse Aerdale of the warrior race who will be the only thing standing between his kingdom and the demon armies when my father invades.”
I set my fork back down, feeling suddenly sick. “And you mean to avenge your mother, even if it means defending your uncle’s lands?”
“No. I wish to avenge my mother and end my father to defend my people’s lands.”
“So you wish to become king of Anvalyn — not king of the demons. Or is it both?”
“Little huntress, if my father is not stopped, there will be nothing left of Anvalyn. There will be only a kingdom of ravenous demons and wasteland.”
A shudder worked its way down my spine.
“And if he were to succeed in destroying the veil, the mortal race would cease to exist.” He set down his goblet and met my gaze, those silvery eyes churning with a darkness I’d only seen once — when the apokropos stone had released the demon half of his magic.
“The power he has amassed by devouring souls . . . it is cursed magic, accompanied by an insatiable hunger. He will not be content until he has devoured every living soul.”
This time, I could not hide the chill that racked my body. I took a bite of the pheasant, but the succulent game turned to ash in my mouth.
“And your father still thinks that you are hunting for me?”
Something like fear flickered in Kaden’s gaze, but it was gone before I could be sure of what I’d seen. “If you have managed to curry favor with any of the gods whose statues you neglected to deface, I’d suggest you pray that he does.”
“And what of those demons?” I asked. “The ones who found me at Silas’s?”
A muscle in his jaw ticked. “They have been dealt with.”
“They’re dead?”
“No. Ending their existence, while satisfying, would have been difficult. Moreover, it would have raised suspicions. It is one thing for a half-huntress with a witchwood blade to take out a few of my father’s foot soldiers in a dark alley.
But for an untrained Coranthe witch to defeat two of his strongest .
. .” He trailed off, draining his goblet and setting it down.
“I wiped their memories and sent them scampering back to Dorthus with their tails between their legs. Soon I will have to return and answer for their failure. For my failure.”
Because his father had sent Kaden to capture me. Adriel had said as much when he’d interrupted those demons in Silas’s basement.
“Why keep up the ruse?” I asked. “You said you only returned to Dorthus when you came of age to spare your mother’s life. But if she was killed, why do your father’s bidding?”
“That’s my business,” said Kaden coldly.
“I thought you wished for me to help you. ”
“Is this you agreeing to help?”
I pressed my lips together. Kaden was the Taker of Souls — the monster who’d stolen my mother from me. Was he any better than Semphrys, the demon king whose greed was slowly destroying the realm?
“My father has been plotting to take Anvalyn for centuries,” said Kaden. “I am not foolish enough to think he would concede defeat if I renounced him. This way, I know of his plans before he puts them into motion.”
I set down my fork, no longer hungry. It made sense for Kaden to conceal his true motives, but was it worth the price of contributing to the destruction of his people’s lands?
I felt that there was something he wasn’t telling me. I just didn’t know what it was.
“You said before that my blade would not be enough to kill him. That his power must be diminished.”
Kaden nodded.
“How do you propose we do that?” I asked. “If that was something you could have done without my help, I’m guessing you already would have.”
“You are correct.”
I lifted my eyebrows, urging him to continue, but Kaden merely nodded at my plate. “Eat. You’ll need your strength if you plan to help me end my father.”
“I never said I planned to help.”
“Perhaps not with your words.” Kaden raised a dark brow.
“But I saw that murderous gleam in your eye the moment you learned what I was. You are half huntress. It is in your blood. You cannot resist the temptation to slaughter the entire royal line of demons, and you cannot defeat my father without my help. I have no doubt you’ll hold off on putting a dagger through my heart if it means ending him first.”
I swallowed, unnerved at how easily he’d guessed my plan. “Do you even have a heart?”
Kaden leaned forward in his seat, close enough for his elbow to brush mine. “I’m half Drathen, remember? I have the heart of a warrior, just like you.”
My skin heated at the light contact, and something like satisfaction ghosted across his face before he leaned back in his seat, tore off a hunk of bread, and stuffed it into his mouth.
“Adriel tells me you’ve done well, both in your lessons with Gaeldric and in weapons training. You should continue to learn everything you can from the old witch while we’re here. He cannot accompany us where we are going.”
“To Anvalyn?”
“To Dorthus.”
If I had been eating, I would have choked on my food.
“But you said —”
“I have been absent too long. We must pay a visit to Dorthus to reassure my father that I am still his loyal dog.” Kaden’s expression tightened. “Although I do not relish bringing you there before you are fully trained, it will be good for you to see what you are up against.”
My mouth went dry at the prospect of traveling to the demon kingdom. “Then I want my dagger back.”
“Which one?”
I glared at him. “You know which one.”
“That is one request I cannot grant, little huntress. At least . . . not yet.”
“When? ”
“When I can be certain you will not do something foolish.”
I rolled my eyes. “At least tell me how you plan to weaken your father.”
“All in good time, love.”
Fury thrummed in my veins. The entitled royal ass expected me to risk my life to help him, and he wasn’t even going to tell me how to defeat Semphrys?
“Leathers then,” I said. “I want my fighting leathers back. I hate the clothes here.”
“Done.”
It was a small victory, but it still felt gratifying. “And better curtains to block out the sun. I sleep like shit here.”
Kaden nodded. “I’ll arrange it.”
I chewed on my bottom lip, wondering what else I could negotiate. “And Freydolf will not be punished for bringing me food.”
The demon prince rolled his eyes, though a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I will tell Adriel that the beatings should cease and that the faun is to be released from the dungeons.”
My jaw clenched. If I hadn’t seen Freydolf with my own eyes, I might have questioned whether he was serious. Now, however, I knew he was fucking with me.
Kaden’s eyes gleamed. “Is that all?”
“Yes.”
He made a note of surprise in his throat and poured himself another glass of wine.
“What?” I demanded, annoyed by his smugness. By the few minor concessions he’d granted so I would feel as though I’d won .
“Nothing.” That faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, so wicked that I was tempted to throw my own wine in his face. “I only hoped you’d drive a harder bargain.”