22. Nyx
Nyx
I wake with Willow's scent still clinging to my skin, her heartbeat thudding in sync next to mine. For one selfish second, I lie there, letting myself enjoy this moment with my mate. I don’t worry about the next one, or what will happen when I inevitably open my eyes to face reality.
Right here, right now, it’s just us and the warmth of our love. The relief of finally being home with someone.
Unfortunately, it can’t last forever.
Vhalthor’s grating voice bellows through the cavern, reminding us all of our impending doom. “Time to rise, you lazy bags of bones! We need to get a move on!”
I crack open my eyes to find Vhalthor standing at the entrance to our cave, his lips pressed together in a tight line.
“Glad to see you’re feeling better,” I grumble. “What would we do without your charming self to keep us in line?”
Vhalthor clearly doesn’t understand sarcasm. “They did not make me king for no reason. You are wise to recognize my superiority.”
I roll my eyes. I’m about to snap back, but Dravik shoots me a look, and the words die in my throat.
“We will get our mate ready and meet out in the main cavern,” Dravik says.
This appeases the demon king, and Vhalthor nods, satisfied. He turns on his heel and moves back into the main cavern to be with his men. Just as well. I need to check on my mate.
By the time I get to Willow, Rhune has already claimed her. He's crouched in front of her, running his hands over every inch of her body, checking for lingering aches.
“I’m fine, Rhune.” She tries to gently swat him away, but he’s not having it.
“The healing pools can only do so much.”
“I didn’t even get hurt!”
“Your boots wounded you! You could be bleeding internally!”
“Again, I would like to remind you of the healing pools,” she grumbles.
I crouch down beside them, catching Willow's eye. “How do you feel?”
She gives me a deadpan stare. “Bleeding internally, apparently.”
I let out a soft chuckle, patting Rhune on the top of the head. “Relax, Rhune. You’re too paranoid. She is healthy and whole.”
“We do not know that for certain.”
I reach around and flick him on the nose. “Hey!”
“Pull yourself together. We have to get going,” I say. “Vhalthor’s on the warpath.”
Rhune lets out a pitiful whine, pulling Willow close. “But…”
“I’m fine, Rhune. I promise.” She curls her palm around his jaw. “Promise.”
She places a soft kiss on his cheek, and he shudders. “Okay,” he breathes. “But you will allow me to carry you for the first stretch of our journey.”
“Oh noo.” Willow’s voice drips with sarcasm, though a teasing smile is on her face. “How terrible.”
Rhune keeps his promise, carrying Willow for the first stretch with an arm hooked under her knees, her head tucked against his shoulder. Her eyes keep drifting shut, and I know she needed this more than she'd ever admit out loud.
She is not fragile, not in the least. But she is still a human, and her body has its limits. There is no shame in that. I am just proud of how long she has held on, proud that my mate is so very strong.
While Rhune walks ahead with Willow, I hang back a few paces, matching Dravik's slower stride. For a while, we don’t say anything. But I know we’re looking at the same thing, with similar worries niggling at the back of our minds.
Cin.
He walks along the far edge of the passage, close enough to the wall that his shoulder scrapes it every few steps, but he doesn't seem to notice. Truthfully, it doesn’t seem like he notices anything.
His face is a blank mask, fixed straight ahead into the darkness. His movements are stuttered and robotic, as if he’s locked in a trance, and his body reacts on instinct.
“It’s never lasted this long,” Dravik says under his breath.
“I know.”
“Do you think he’ll snap out of it?”
I gaze at Cin, the emptiness in his eyes. I haven’t told anyone, but a part of me worries Cin is gone for good. Like, a part of him broke when those things came out of the pit. I hope to all the gods that I’m wrong.
“For all our sake, I sure hope so,” I finally say.
He nods, facing forward once more, and we settle into a tense silence. I look toward Willow, watching her beam a smile at Rhune. I get a flash of jealousy, but then I remember how she looked on my cock last night, and the feeling eases. But not all the way.
Wanting to be closer to her, I quicken my pace. I stand on her opposite side, feeding my fingers with hers, and the bond thrums, relieved to be touching her.
But that relief only lasts so long.
Vhalthor holds up his hands, and his soldiers freeze. Dagny looks from her mates to Vhalthor, her brows furrowed in confusion.
“What’s wrong?” Malice demands, his one good eye glinting at Vhalthor.
“Up ahead.” Vhalthor’s voice is low. “I heard… something.”
“More creatures?” Dagny asks.
Vhalthor shakes his head, his expression hardening. “No… I don’t know what it was. But…” He shudders but doesn’t elaborate.
He continues the march, but I notice that he’s moving more cautiously, his eyes scanning the shadows in his paranoia.
What creature has the power to terrify Vhalthor with a simple noise?
I realize at that moment that I don’t want to find out.
We keep walking, the passage sloping steadily downward. Suddenly, the ice-rock walls fall away on either side, and the tunnel spits us out onto a ledge.
Vhalthor’s soldiers split, allowing us through them to the front of the line. I stand next to Vhalthor, looking out, and my breath catches in my throat.
The cavern opens up around us, so vast it doesn't read as a cavern at all. It's more like a miniature Far Place carved out beneath the real one.
I look up, trying to see the ceiling, but it seems to go on forever. Another passage to the surface? It’s difficult to say.
The whole space is cast in an ominous shade of red, emanating from the thick veining roots covering every inch of the walls. They writhe and twist, as if they have a life of their own, and I have the horrible feeling that they’re aware of our presence.
Hundreds of feet below, a Welwig forest sprawls across the cavern floor. Trunks packed tight together, drooping canopies tangled together so thick I can't see the ground beneath them, except, of course, for the pit.
It’s situated at the far back of the cavern, several miles from our current position.
It’s just as wide as the one in Dagny’s lair, but unlike the other pit, this one isn't crawling with roots.
In fact, nothing grows near it. The forest stops several feet short of the edge, leaving a bare ring around the gaping mouth.
A shudder runs the length of my spine. I know, inherently, that's where we have to go.
For once, Vhalthor does not seem so fearless. “I do not like this place. I do not like it at all.”
I nod, sharing his sentiment. “The pit. That’s where the core is located. It has to be.”
“Indeed…” Vhalthor turns to his men, chin held high. “This is the last chance to turn back. I will not hold it against any of you should you choose to abandon this mission. In fact, I think it would be wise.”
His soldiers gaze at him, their expressions hard. One by one, they fall to a kneel, their heads bowed in respect. The one at the front is the only one to speak, though I know all of them share his feelings. “We would never abandon you, my king. Where you go, we follow.”
Vhalthor's cool eyes light with pride. “Very well.” He turns, schooling his expression back into one free of emotion. “To the core, we go.”
Vhalthor drops off the ledge, wings snapping wide, and glides out into the cavern's open air. His soldiers pour off the edge behind him in a dark wave, filling the space with the whoosh and crack of wingbeats.
As the last soldier steps off the ledge, they attack.
The roots come off the wall all at once, thick red coils ripping free of the ice-rock and lashing out across the open air.
They move faster than should be possible, and in the blink of an eye, they snatch up two of Vhalthor’s soldiers.
There’s a scream, a chorus of cracks, and the demons vanish into the tangle.
"BACK!" Vhalthor screams, his eyes wide with fright. “Back to the tunnels!”
His soldiers wheel hard, and several collide in their desperation. They claw and scrabble over each other, terror gripping their minds and causing them to lose all sense.
Through the cloud of chaos, I can make out Vhalthor, his blade held high and teeth bared in a ferocious roar. Holding the line, he allows as many of his men as possible the chance to escape.
“Come on!” he roars, blade swinging wildly.
He cuts through the first root in one stroke, and it recoils, spraying dark fluid across his chest. Another comes at him from behind, and he twists midair, catching it on the backswing.
A third wraps his ankle and yanks him sideways, but it doesn’t faze him.
He hacks it inches from his own foot, drops several feet, and beats his wings hard to recover.
He casts a glance over his shoulder as the last of his men retreat to the safety of the tunnel. Only then does he turn and flee as dozens of thick coils chase, brushing at his heels.
“Make room!” Dravik roars, causing the soldiers to scatter farther into the tunnel. Vhalthor flies through the opening, his momentum so powerful that he smashes into a wall several hundred feet back.
Amazingly, the roots stop at the entrance to the tunnel, as if some invisible barrier exists between the passage and cavern.
They coil in the open air just beyond it, twisting, searching.
Realizing their pursuit is pointless, they slowly withdraw back to the walls, curling up within the tangles like hungry vipers in the grass.
Some of Vhalthor's soldiers rush toward him, hands outstretched to help him up from where he landed. He brushes them away, waving them off before they can touch him. “I'm fine. I'm fine. It would take more than a few roots to take me out.”
He shoves himself upright, and I watch him bite back a wince. Fine, my ass.