Chapter 21
Aimee
Time flows differently in the underbelly of a monstrous mountain. There’s no sense of day or night as we trudge on, walking until we can no longer stand, taking only small respites when our bodies betray us, succumbing to exhaustion.
Even vampires need rest.
Killian’s deep in slumber, his back against the granite wall, his head slumped forward while his hands clench his two faithful daggers, Kadirah and Alnashar. Even in sleep, he’s prepared to defeat his enemies.
My eyes trace the curve of his exposed neck, the angular lines of his stubbled jaw, dipping to the arch of his upper lip. He’s the most handsome male I’ve ever laid my eyes upon, and I don’t believe anyone else will ever measure up to that gentle, caring version of him.
Too bad he’s also the most insufferable, arrogant creature I’ve ever encountered.
Every time my rage dwindles to burning embers, I remember the callous way he treated me for weeks on end.
How he refused to give me the benefit of the doubt, how he discarded me, even knowing the trauma I carried around like an unwavering chain around my soul.
And yet, my body betrays me time and time again, surrendering to his possessive touch, to his lingering kisses.
My mind may not be ready to forgive him, but the rest of me longs for the soul-soothing way he held me in his arms, for those whispered words of fervor that made me feel worthy for the first time in my life.
I don’t know what’s worse. To have felt that level of love and devotion and lose it, or to never experience it to begin with?
You can’t mourn something you never had.
In the darkness and surrounded by uncertainty is where demons thrive. Not the flesh and bones kind, no.
The inner ones. The ones that take the shape of my sister, that hiss with hatred in her voice.
They remind me I was never worthy, no matter what sugared lies Killian dripped in my ears in the throes of passion.
They mock me for my weakness, even as the Foretold One. So much power wasted on a weakling that cracked under pressure the first time she had to prove herself.
We almost died in that first trial because of me.
I hug my knees to my chest, focusing on my breathing instead of the deprecating thoughts. I can’t let myself spiral into self-loathing.
Not anymore.
I’m not perfect and I never will be, but I will have to be enough.
Enough to end Aurora’s reign of terror.
“Where are you right now, little umbra?”
Killian’s voice floats in the darkness, rough from sleep.
“Right here,” I answer curtly.
“Or rather a million miles away,” he murmurs, reaching out to clasp my hand in his. “What’s wrong?”
“You mean besides a raging war, an ancient Goddess making us jump through fucking hoops and killer trials?” I ask deflectively, brushing off his intimate gesture as I use the wall for support to stand. “All is peachy. Come on, we’ve yet to reach the second trial, and time is running against us.”
I don’t wait for his response as I lead the way through the winding tunnel, praying in vain to whatever Gods might listen that I don’t fail myself and everyone else.
The deeper we go into the entrails of Saunoque, the hotter it becomes.
I’ve long shed the fur-lined cloak and gloves that did barely anything to protect me from the blizzard’s bite outside, and as sweat trickles down my spine—fusing my fighting leathers to my flesh like a damp layer of second skin, I’m considering shedding them altogether.
But, walking blindly in these pitch-black tunnels clad only in undergarments seems like a gamble I’m not ready to face. Not only because of the unknown trials ahead of us, but also because of the vampire walking behind me.
Killian’s been trying to spark a conversation for hours now, and I’ve been ignoring his attempts with unwavering determination.
I don’t want to talk about our situation, and I don’t want to fight.
All I need are answers from an immemorial being who’s playing games with us.
“Umbra, slow down,” he says as I pick up the pace, stumbling into an empty space ahead.
The tight tunnel suddenly widens into a vacant chamber similar to the first one, all polished granite and stifling heat.
Another ominous message etched in stone awaits us.
Truth unites; truth divides
What shall be devoured in the light of it?
“This bitch really enjoys being vague,” I huff in annoyance.
Killian’s already inspecting the walls for any cracks or sharp points on the surface.
“There’s nothing on this side,” he says, eyes roaming every corner. “Check on the other side.”
“It’s obviously not going to be the same as last time,” I answer, rolling my eyes, just as the entrance where we came from vanishes, and a low tremor shivers through the cave.
The walls echo with a muted rumble as water pours from the seams between the stones.
It spills over the rock, cold enough to erase the heat of the tunnels, deceptively refreshing.
At first, it’s nothing.
Ankle-deep water creeps around us until it starts to rise dangerously fast, and it becomes blatantly clear that this chamber is meant to be a watery grave.
“Fuck, we’re going to drown,” I say with a start as realization hits me.
“Technically vampires don’t drown; more like lose consciousness until we’re able to breathe again,” Killian corrects me, as if that piece of information would appease my growing anxiety in any way.
“Great. I’ll die and you’ll faint underwater for eternity. Just a random Tuesday.”
The water reaches our waists now, the floor vanishing beneath black swill that climbs, swallowing our bodies like a hungry beast. There’s no time to squabble, to panic, to do anything but search for the clue hidden in those damn words carved deep in the wall.
I start treading water; the level rising with each passing second, pushing our bodies toward the ceiling in a desperate search for precious oxygen. Soon there will be no air left, no answers, no salvation.
“Think, Killian, if the sacrifice of truth demanded our blood, what of ours can truth devour?”
“What?” He blinks at me, perplexed, while reaching out to touch the ceiling, scanning it like he did with the walls.
The water surges even higher, slapping against my face, and we’re moments away from being swallowed whole. Panic claws at my chest with razor-sharp talons, but I can’t afford to succumb to it. The trial demands precision; the answer glaring at me from just outside of reach.
“Unite, divide, devour, light,” I keep repeating loudly, pushing my hand against the ceiling, just as Killian dives underwater to check the floor.
Every second steals more from us. More air, more life.
He comes back up for air, water splashing my face as he resurfaces next to me, eyes blown in apprehension.
“There’s nothing on the floor either,” he says between ragged breaths.
“Devours light, devours light. What fucking light? It’s dark as fuck in here,” I say as water covers my mouth.
I press my cheek to the wet stone, an idea forming in the back of my mind.
“Darkness devours light, Killian. But how can darkness be united or divided?”
Understanding hits like a horde of galloping beasts, and I see the flicker of recognition spark in Killian’s eyes in the same instant.
“Shadows,” we whisper with the last breath of air, as water covers us whole.
My lungs scream for air as I float in the oppressive murk. Killian grasps my fingers, pulling me toward him, just as I notice a faint light pulsing behind him.
Glowing a reddish hue, symbols appear on the floor and ceiling in opposing corners. I tug at his arms, pointing behind him, right when he does the same.
I turn to see the same diffuse glow behind me.
Runes.
Four of them, engraved in different corners of the chamber, barely glimmering in the tenebrous waters, like dying embers mocking whoever dared to venture this far below ground.
We part, swimming on opposite sides to reach the runes, and I unleash my shadows just as Killian releases his from the confines of his skin. They swirl, gravitating toward each other like wisps of ink, before our shadow selves take form and reach the runes on the floor.
We move as one, taking our positions and slamming both hands and shadows over the runes at the same time.
My eyes meet Killian’s, blurred by the distance and the somber underwater haze, but the emotions burning there are so bright, so desperate, like a beacon in this gloaming.
For one suspended heartbeat, there’s nothing but a gaping chasm between us, filled with all the things we left unsaid, all the unspoken words and feelings.
Then the runes intensify their luminescence, like a blazing wound that festers, before a whooshing sound erupts and a violent whirlpool yanks us toward a crater in the ground.
There’s nothing to hold on to, no reprieve from the asphyxiating tentacles squeezing my lungs. I let my body go limp and get carried away with the torrents in a free fall toward uncharted dangers.
The cascading stream throws me from the suffocating tunnel into a new cave, and I’m suspended in air, limbs flailing, before I plunge deep into a bioluminescent lake.
A hand grabs me from the back of my neck, and I’m dragged forcefully to the surface, spitting mouthfuls of water as I cling to Killian’s powerful frame.
He swims us to the shore and helps me up the granite slab, and I turn on a side, coughing so hard it feels like my ribs might crack.
My lungs seize as if I’ve forgotten how to breathe, and all I can do is choke on the flood I’ve swallowed.
Killian brushes my wet hair from my face, holding me while I retch more water—my body shivering, my throat raw—as the sound of my heaving echoes in the wide cavern.
It feels like forever before I suck in the first sharp breath of air, slumping in his embrace.
“You’re okay, umbra, you’re alive,” he says in a shaky voice, holding onto me for dear life, as if I’d slip through his fingers if he relaxed.
“That was a close call,” I croak, my voice like shattered glass.