8. KAINE
“What I struggle to comprehend is how you remain unaware of what has transpired in your very own court . . . it was not long ago that you left Summeira to live in Castle Terrin. Forgotten your roots, have you?” Lord Gulliver raised a sleek eyebrow, his voice thick with mischief.
Is twenty years ago considered not long ago?
The Lord of Summeira, a tan-skinned, middle-aged male sat stone faced in his war room in Daybreak Keep. His golden silks and sandals matched his pristine blond hair but despite his bright fa?ade, he looked less than impressed with Kaine who had sauntered into the Summer Court’s keep, requesting its allegiance to Queen Calliea.
The rebellion was rising. And they needed all the courts to swear their allegiance to the throne. In blood.
The Summeiran lord stood from his chair and wandered over to Kaine, who stood just a few metres away. Silken curtains billowed carelessly in the war room. The sounds of summer – water lapping, birds chirping and insects buzzing – were the only sounds that stifled the heated, hungry gaze Lord Gulliver raked over Kaine. The Summer Court’s lord was known for his greed. He had a harem of males and females and more servants than anyone ever needed. Gluttony aside, he was a renowned war general and a powerful one at that. At his beck and call was a garrison full of trained soldiers that would prove useful, should Queen Calliea need. Because that was who Kaine was here to appease. At least for now.
While decades stood between Kaine and the male before him, Kaine knew he was more powerful. He also knew that Lord Gulliver would do anything in his power to fortify his court and riches, both of which Queen Calliea and Kaine were willing to offer should the lord swear his allegiance to them.
Kaine stood squarely, hands behind his back. Relaxed. Nonthreatening. A guise. “I have been . . . preoccupied”—Kaine chose his next words carefully—“her majesty Queen Calliea and I swear on blood and bone that we will serve and protect Summeira like our own, so long as it willingly stands with us.” He fixed his eyes upon the lord. An offer.
“Ah yes, if I have heard correctly, you are blood-oathed to her . . .” Lord Gulliver said sweetly, raking a tanned finger along Kaine’s broad shoulders. “What are you getting out of this? I’m curious . . .”—the lord paused just behind Kaine, leaning in closely to his ear—“is it something I can offer?”
Kaine stiffened. He could feel the Summeiran lord’s sensuous breath brushing the shell of his ear. Kaine’s fist clenched, straining to refrain from breaking the lord’s neck. He bit out, “Revenge.”
“Sweet, sweet revenge,” Lord Gulliver sung, sauntering past Kaine, toward the marble chair he had occupied earlier. He sat upon his throne with the arrogance of a thousand kings and paused, smiling sweetly at Kaine. “I swear allegiance to Queen Calliea and the abomination that is Terr in return for protection and service, whatever form that may come in, but . . .”
That was baiting if Kaine didn’t know any better. The insolence. A low, warning growl began to rumble in the back of Kaine’s throat. “Say it.”
“Before you go back to your blood-oathed with the news of our allegiance, you must do something for me . . .” The blond male before Kaine spread his legs wide suggestively, his hands resting on the arms of his chair.
A tick started in Kaine’s jaw. He had to secure Summeira as an ally. Queen Calliea had ordered, under the blood-oath, that he do everything in his power to have them swear allegiance, even if it meant doing things he didn’t really want to. She needed to prove to Terr that her following was strong. Kaine had no choice in the matter, but this? This was crossing the line and the smug lord before Kaine knew exactly how to take advantage of it.
Kaine sent out a fraction of his mana. That was all he needed.
Lord Gulliver’s head swung back with a vengeance. His face crumpled in pain as Kaine’s mana dealt an invisible blow that would surely rearrange the lord’s nose.
Kaine’s mana sprung into the air in a rush of glittering magic, turning into giant clasps that wrapped around the lord’s neck with ferocity.
Feeble breaths managed to escape the lord, but Kaine did not relent. He pushed harder.
With hands clawing at his neck, the lord managed to let out a measly, “I . . . yield.”
At the words, Kaine released his mana.
The lord sagged with relief, a violent gasp for air.
“Try me again and you will regret it,” Kaine sneered.
Lord Gulliver rested his hands on his thighs, panting. He scoffed, “It turns out the loyal dog is not all bark . . .” Rolling his neck and shoulders, he wiped his brow and all but spat out, “Fine. I swear allegiance to the blood throne. I will stand with Queen Calliea and Terr.”
Lord Gulliver stood from his chair, attempting to tower over Kaine and said, “Just promise me that you’ll get rid of the hellhounds that are terrorising the outskirts of Pleasure Alley.” The mention of the Summer Court’s sin-filled district almost made Kaine laugh. They were on the verge of an uprising and that was all the lord wanted to protect. His reputation preceded him. He was a man of greed and gluttony indeed.
“Consider it done.” Kaine waved the request off.
The Lord of Summeira pulled a small silver blade from his waistband and made a quick incision to the inner part of his arm.
On bated breath, they both watched as three drops of blood fell ceremoniously to the ground, sealing the alliance between the blood crown and the Summer Court.
Without a word, Lord Gulliver, with his now ruffled blond hair, walked to one of his windows and gazed out into the distance – a dismissal.
“Lord Gulliver, your allegiance to the blood crown is valued and celebrated.” Kaine bowed swiftly before turning on his feet.
He tried his best not to smirk at the small win. As he walked out of the war room swiftly, he swore he heard the lord scoff.
Pleasure Alley. Dirty. Dingy. Dark and seductive. Narrow alleyways lit by red glass lamps teemed with travellers seeking their moment of ecstasy. Seductresses of all shapes and sizes draped across doorways and beckoned those who dared step close.
With his hood fastened over his head, his dark black cloak billowing behind him, Kaine stormed through Summeira’s red light district. His short spear glinted in the moonlight and Fae of all kinds shrank in fear as he charged through the alley’s chaos.
Dark. Menacing. Unwanted. That’s all he was.
He finally reached the alley’s end – the only exit.
He took cover behind a dark building wall, out of sight. Without a shred of remorse in his immortal heart, Kaine reached into his pocket and pulled out a vial the size of his palm. In it was a thick dark red substance that sent his mana curling away in disgust.
Oh how things had changed.
Now he needed it. Depended on it even. For the substance brought him closer to what he wanted. Power, revenge and justice. The vial filled with the blood of the promised children felt heavy in his palm. He pulled the cork off the top, dipped his finger in it and crouched low, his cloak completely concealing him in darkness.
Like he’d done many times before in this very alley way, he drew an ancient-Fae symbol of various swirls and curves. Queen Calliea had taught it to him after he took the blood-oath. Kaine swiftly moved to the other side of the alley and repeated the same thing. Dipping his bloodied finger into the vial, he drew the symbol that represented how far he’d come in possessing a power that transcended realms. As he drew the last curve, both symbols burned to life in a show of red anger. They pulsed several times before guttering out.
Then, it began.
A sonic boom sounded, then a crack in the air. The smell of sulphur and decay began to rise and slowly, a deep red portal began to rip apart the fabric between Faery, opening a temporary gate to the Shadow Realm.
From his crouched position, Kaine watched it all unfold with unbridled pride rumbling through his chest. For his attitude and advance, Lord Gulliver would pay – just one more time.
Kaine drew his hand toward his mouth, curled his tongue and blew a sharp whistle. The sound of paws padding the soft earth grew to a crescendo. Black dust rose from the ground, spilling over onto Summeiran soil.
From the portal came a pack of hellhounds. Twenty of them. They barked, yipped and growled, waving their flaming tails and baring their razor-sharp teeth.
Kaine used to fear them. Hated them even. Perhaps he still did but what he hated more was the Tienthan. The good-for-nothing angels took away his Sophie, and if this was Kaine’s only way to secure the alliances he needed to win this war, he’d do it. He’d do it in this lifetime and every other lifetime the Fates allowed him.
For fear was leverage. Kaine’s allies needed to understand that he was their saviour. Many were convinced the hellhounds had slipped through as the fabric between realms weakened. But no, Kaine was also the male responsible for setting the rabid dogs upon them – but they didn’t need to know that.
Kaine stood from where he crouched and leaned against the edge of the alley way. He watched, arms crossed over his broad chest as chaos ensued.
The hellhounds did not hold back tonight. As the hounds mauled and terrorised Pleasure Alley’s patrons and the sorrowful sound of agonising screams overtook the sounds of pleasure, Kaine turned on his heel and smiled.
“Well done, my pet,” Queen Calliea said proudly upon her throne.
Kaine remained on his knees, his head bowed in respect. Silent and ever obedient.
“With Wrenntia unoccupied and Summeira now sworn to us, we have secured the northern courts,” the queen continued.
“That’s correct, my oathed.” Kaine hated the way that word curdled on his tongue. Oathed. It was rough and unruly. Something he didn’t want yet needed all the same because his soulmate was waiting for him. He knew it.
“Very well.” The red queen stood up from the blood-red throne. “Now see to it that Seaspun Bay swears their allegiance by whatever means necessary. I command this.”
Kaine didn’t miss the venomous uptick of her mouth.
The invisible collar that tethered him to the queen tightened ever so slightly. He hated the feeling, but he only had to endure it a little longer. He had to persevere because there was one being that surpassed her in greatness. Terr. Ruler of a realm filled with demons, hellhounds and creatures no one dared to even imagine. Commander of undead army with a posting strength of hundreds, if not thousands worth of tortured souls. There was an opportunity there. Kaine could smell it. All he had to do was lie in wait.
“Yes, my oathed. Your will is mine.”
Seaspun Bay. The undersea court was one of opulence and extravagance, but historically had remained neutral in all Faery conflicts. Ruled by Lord Zavis, a mer-male of centuries old, the court was known for being cut-throat, demanding and insufferable. Prideful would also be a good word to describe them. Kaine had better things to do than tread in waters where he was most likely unwelcome, but he had no choice. The blood-oath that chained him yet provided him with so much power, commanded that he do this much.
Kaine bowed his head lower.
And that was the thing about soulmates. They never gave up on each other and by the Fates, for Sophie, he would do it all.