52. Welcome to Haalbeg
Alistair
The moment Aleiraah crumples, my heart sinks.
I wasted precious moments fighting Raine's compulsion before realizing my brave mate had charged into the malicious fae queen's trap. After Aleiraah rushed out in fury, I struggled to my feet, feeling cherished and protected, but furious at her recklessness.
Raine’s particularly powerful summons made my heart feel ready to explode behind my ribs. I lay crumpled on the floor after puking my guts out, leaving Aleiraah unprotected.
Swaying on unsteady feet, by the time I reached them, two cloaked goblins materialized, one ambushing Aleiraah while she fought Raine.
The rest of the seven are away defending the brownie and nymph factions—a widespread attack too coincidental to be real.
The truth hits too late, they were purposefully drawn away, leaving only me, already compromised by Raine’s control.
And now, I'm losing my mate right before my fucking eyes!
Without thinking, I lunge for Aleiraah, tearing past the wards, my boots biting into the earth. But the fucking goblins are faster, their stench thick enough to choke anyone. They’re taking her to a portal undulating darkly, as her feet drag in the earth.
"NO!" The word tears from my throat, animalistic in rage. My claws rip from my fingertips, vision narrowing to the sight of Aleiraah's limp form. Raine’s compulsion claws at my mind, pulling me toward her, but it’s nothing compared to the wildfire panic flooding my veins.
"Aleiraah!" I yell, lunging at the nearest goblin, slicing through his throat. A spray of rancid black blood coats me. The remaining one growls rabidly, sprinting closer to the shadowy portal––dark, writhing, smelling of rot and iron, nestled between trees.
She’s bleeding from a head wound. With heart in my mouth I dash. Harder than I'd ever run in my life. My muscles scream, lungs burn, but I don't care, because she is slipping away.
One step. Two—the goblin's hand shoots out, scattering a foul-smelling powder into the air. It hits me like a boulder to the skull. My legs buckle and vision wavers. Exploiting my weakness, he leaps into the chasm, and the portal swallows Aleiraah whole.
She is gone.
Silence.
The world tilts. My knees hit the dirt, claws carving trenches into the soil as a broken, feral roar rips from my chest.
Raine's laughter drifts on the wind, taunting and smug. "You can't protect her," she sings. "Not from him."
I snap toward her, blind with murderous rage. "You fucking cunt! If anything happens to Aleiraah," I growl, my voice shaking with promised violence, "I will tear you apart piece by piece and choke you with your own blood."
Her smile falters, but only for a heartbeat. "Come pet, I will forgive this insolence only once. I wish to ride your cock, it's been so long that I have had a taste." She licks her lips like a serpent ready to strike.
Roaring, I slam my fists into the earth again and again—I should have stopped this.
But I’m powerless. The coronation oath binds every fae, physically preventing me from harming a reigning monarch.
She snaps her fingers. My mouth clicks shut as a crushing weight pins me to the earth, completely immobile.
Such is the absolute power of the Fae Queen over her subjects.
She limps toward me, the wound on her thigh still bleeding. Good that Aleiraah got her pound of flesh. She did what I could never do no matter how much I wanted.
"Oh, we'll have so much fun, pet." Raine purrs and I spit in her face.
She backhands me, while holding me immobile with her will alone and I spit at her ugly mug again, this time my saliva mixed with blood.
"You insolent mutt!" She screeches and grabs my hair, pulling my head back.
I know what will come next. She'll try to make me kiss her. I'd rather die than live through that.
Just as I consider ending my life before she can forbid it—anything to escape being violated once again—the air cracks.
Not with thunder or magic, but the raw burn of an angel's fury.
Azael appears in his true form, his pitch-black wings mantling so wide they seem to drink the light from the world. His eyes––once sapphire blue, now a fractured halo of white fire––lock onto Raine.
"What did you do?" His voice is unnaturally quiet, but carries across space with barely leashed malice.
Raine straightens her crown over ice-blonde hair, feigning calm. "Just came to fetch my pet. Not that I owe you any explanation, Azael, for we—"
She never gets to finish her words.
Azael's hand flares with angel fire—blinding, pure, searing hotter than the sun. He doesn't hesitate, doesn't blink. He thrusts his palm forward, and the fire leaps from his hand to her chest.
Raine screams, "You can't!" Not a delicate cry, but the shriek of someone feeling their very soul being stripped raw.
The fire races over her skin, melting silk and flesh alike.
She tries to shield herself but nothing works.
Bones crack, blacken, and then dissolve into ash.
Her crown melts to the dirt before vaporizing into nothing.
"Alistair?" Azael prompts, voice cold with controlled rage.
Taking my first clean breath in centuries, I watch Raine's ashes scatter in the wind. Yet the loss of Aleiraah skewers my soul. “The goblins took her, Azael,” I choke out, fury and grief twisting together. I’m finally free from years of abuse, yet my raison d'être is missing.
“Raine was working with Vroc,” I choke out, suffocating under my own helplessness.
“The goblins hurt Aleiraah, then snatched her through a portal between those trees.
I was too late. I couldn't reach her.” Bitter tears blur my vision as the crushing realization that Aleiraah is in mortal danger upends my world.
Azael’s features tighten with fury, eyes glittering with the promise of death. The angel fire flares brighter in his palms reacting to his emotions. "Azizam..." He breathes, visibly controlling his ire. "Pull yourself together. We're getting Aleiraah back," he grits out after several moments.
"I'm so sorry." I whisper brokenly.
"Not your fault, Alistair. It was clearly a set up." His voice is flatter than usual as I rub my hands over my face, trying to stem the flow of tears.
"I'll get to her even if I have to burn down every realm until there's nowhere left for them to hide." He promises as he heads to the location of the now-gone portal.
Cold resolve replaces blinding despair. I won’t stop until I get my Delight back.
Free of Raine’s control, I hurry toward the mansion with a newfound lightness.
We are going to war, there’s no other alternative.
Azael has likely already mind-linked the others to gather.
If only they had been here. We were clearly being watched, and the goblins conniving with that bitch made their move the moment Aleiraah and I were alone.
Vroc has crossed the final line in the sand and we won't rest until his evil presence is eradicated.
Aleiraah
I wake to the sensation of being dragged across a cold stone floor.
My wrists ache, iron cuffs biting into my skin, runes carved deep into the metal. I have a killer headache and my mouth tastes like copper. I might have accidentally bitten my tongue.
As my head lolls to one side, it all comes rushing back in a tumble of memories. That bitch Raine mouthing off, the goblin lackey hitting me on the head and dragging me toward a tree line? I clench my jaw in raw fury that shoots a sharp pain through my skull.
Blearily I look up, the blood dripping from my head obstructing my vision.
And then I notice them. Rows and rows of goblins.
Each one ghastly in their appearance—too long limbs, too many teeth, eyes like shards of dirty glass, yellow, greedy.
They stare at me with open curiosity, some with malicious leers.
The ones holding me up bow and announce in a proud chorus, "We brought the succubus, my Liege."
Confused, my gaze is drawn to the far end of the hall. On a throne made of twisted roots and bones, a solitary figure sits, half cloaked in shadows.
An invisible vortex of dark energy swirls around the seemingly male figure.
He leans forward, features coming into sharp focus while the roiling energy turns violent for a moment. I flinch involuntarily.
Muted dark-greenish skin, long pointed funnel-like ears, hair the color of raven's wings with a sharp widow's peak, and luminous yellow eyes. It’s like staring into the soul of a venomous snake ready to swallow you whole.
The Goblin King, Vroc. Which means I’m most probably in Haalbeg––the goblin pocket dimension.
No! No! Fuck!
"Welcome to Haalbeg, Aleiraah," he purrs, his voice akin to a rusty blade encased in velvet. "We meet at last. You've been very difficult to acquire."
With the last dregs of my energy I struggle against the guards' grip. But with a flick of his hand, the chains tighten on their own, nearly crushing my wrists and ankles as they force me to my knees. I lift my chin anyway, eyes blazing despite the fear curling in my stomach.
The goblin soldiers snicker and catcall. I remain silent, enduring their insults and lewd gestures until Vroc finally dismisses them, leaving us alone in his ghastly throne room. They shuffle out slowly, casting strange glances. Some spit at me, but it falls short. Small mercies.
Vroc lounges back in his throne, one leg draped lazily over the other, studying me for long, silent moments that makes my feeling of unease grow. His green fingers tipped with black claws trace the curve of the armrest, the motion strangely hypnotic—like a spider stroking the strands of its web.
"Don’t mind those uncouth minions. You're even lovelier up close; they simply couldn’t help themselves," he says, his raspy voice unhurried. Disgust curls inside me at his pleasant tone. "I see the fire inside you. That's good. I'd hate it if you broke too easily."
He smiles, slow and deliberate, showing pointed, serrated teeth. A predator savoring the moment before the kill. "Tell me, how does the improved ‘Chain of Chastity’ feel? I've perfected it over the years." He flicks his yellow gaze to the cuffs at my wrists and ankles.
My heart stutters as one more piece of the puzzle settles. The shackles sap my energy at an alarming rate, weakening me before an excruciating agony rattles my bones, crawling up my spine. Biting my lip does nothing to stop the scream that erupts from my throat as my body arches painfully.