Chapter 9 #2
Anger ignited inside me, roaring to life at the realization that Aedric didn't care. That he would condemn another person to death today without a sliver of hesitation or remorse.
But I could stop him. I could—and I would if I had to.
My magic answered. It flew upward from that deep place within me with frightening force, drawn to my outrage, my fear, my desperate need to protect Veylan.
It drank greedily from those emotions, swelling into something vast and untamed before I could rein it in.
And as it fed, the fire inside me slowly guttered out, replaced by a strange, creeping numbness that spread through my chest until I could barely remember why I'd been so angry at all.
My arm drove forward, and the air seemed to rupture around me, power rippling outward in a silent, concussive wave that struck Calantha and sent her hurtling backward across the chamber. She hit the wall and crumpled to the ground.
Voices rose around me but I barely heard them.
Heat kindled beneath my skin in thin, searing lines.
It spread quickly, growing hotter and hotter as it coursed through my veins.
My magic gathered at once, spreading, pressing outward to smother the fire raging through me even as it searched for the source of the attack, the force that threatened to boil me from within.
I turned, the heat cresting into something nearly unbearable—and found him.
Sairus—his hand outstretched, fingers curled like claws, his gaze fixed on me with quiet, dangerous intent.
The sight of him broke something inside me. My magic spiralled upward with terrifying force.
End him.
End all of them.
My fingertips glowed silver, power gathering there, ready to be unleashed—
Aedric stepped between us. The heat vanished.
In two long strides he crossed the distance, his hand closing around Sairus’s throat as he slammed him back into the wall, lifting him clear off the ground. Smoke curled where their skin met, Sairus’s flesh sizzling beneath his grip.
“Do not touch her.” Aedric's voice dropped to a dangerous growl, his hand tightening.
“Aedric! Aedric—please!” Calantha's voice cracked as she staggered to her feet, one hand pressed over her ember eye, the shattered remains of her circlet clutched in the other. Blood seeped from a gash in her scalp, staining the roots of her hair a shade darker.
Aedric held him there for one more breath, something dark and vicious coiling beneath his restraint—then released him. Sairus dropped, coughing, his skin blistered and red where Aedric had touched him. He pressed a hand to his throat, the hatred in his eyes so intense it seemed almost tangible.
“Apologies, my Lord,” he rasped. “A father’s instinct.”
The words sounded like they cost him.
Calantha moved to his side at once, gripping his elbow as she helped him to his feet.
“Take him to the Healers,” Aedric snarled. “All of you—out.”
Calantha guided her father to the wall and led him through, the guards following close behind. Hamish lingered only long enough to cast a brief glance in my direction before slipping through after them. The chamber fell quiet.
Broken only by the sound of laughter.
Veylan.
Low at first, then rising into something sharp and grating that scraped along my nerves.
Aedric turned to me. His expression was controlled, the anger beneath it banked but unmistakable. Not directed at Veylan.
But at me.
My magic receded quickly, retreating into the hollow at my center. The numbness ebbed with it, and as sensation slowly returned, one emotion rose above all the others.
Fear.
I was afraid of Aedric.
I reached out, my fingertips brushing his sleeve as I fought to steady the tremor in my voice.
“I'm... I'm sorry, Aedric. I couldn't... after the healer...”
For the briefest moment, something softened in his face.
“Let me talk to him,” I pleaded. “Please.”
He didn’t answer immediately.
“Please, Aedric,” I repeated.
He loosed a long, controlled breath.“I won’t leave you alone with him.”
I nodded, and we turned back toward the cell, my heart pounding.
Veylan lay sprawled on his back now, one hand resting loosely over his stomach as his laughter echoed through the chamber.
“Veylan.” My voice cut cleanly through it. The laughter died at once.
He pushed himself upright, dragging the back of his hand across his mouth and smearing the blood there. Slowly, his shadows began to return, slipping from his body in thin, wavering tendrils. They hovered close, restless and wary, as though reluctant to stray too far from him.
“I said just you.”
“That’s not going to happen.” I folded my arms across my chest. “Aedric is my mate. What you say to me, you can say to him.”
Aedric stepped closer, the heat of him brushing along my side.
“Last I checked,” Veylan said, voice roughened but no less amused, “you had two mates.”
Aedric went rigid, rage flaring immediately at the unspoken name.
“One true bond,” I said evenly. “And one that was stolen.”
Veylan gave a low, rasping snort. “It doesn’t work that way, girl.”
“I chose Aedric.” I held his gaze, unflinching. “He is mine. And I am his.”
For a moment, something in Veylan’s expression shifted. Then his mouth contorted, the humor draining into something uglier. “Stupid human.” Aedric’s growl rumbled low beside me. “Stupid, foolish little—”
“Shut your mouth.” Aedric slammed his hand against the wards, the impact ringing through the chamber.
Veylan didn’t so much as glance at him.
“You have no idea, do you?” he continued, his voice slick and slithery. “No idea what was done. What was stolen. What was corrupted.”
“I’m warning you, Veylan—”
“I’m not interested in the ramblings of a madman,” I cut in. “Talk. Tell us why you were found in the Flamelands.”
Veylan tilted his head, considering me. “Why do you think?” he slurred. “I was looking for you.”
My blood turned to ice. I kept my face carefully calm.
“To earn favor with your master?” Aedric spat.
Veylan’s lips pressed together as though in mild contemplation. “In part. Yes.”
“That seals your fate,” Aedric snarled. “You won’t leave Dheren alive.”
Veylan's brows lifted, interest stirring faintly through the ruin of his face.
“Ah,” he murmured. “So this is Dheren. Subterranean.” His gaze drifted, taking in the stone around him. “Interesting. Fitting, really—that your Court sits as close as it can to the bowels of Hell.”
Aedric’s mouth curved into something brittle and humorless. “You’ll find out just how close when I send you there.”
Veylan snorted, shaking his head. “Idle threats, lordling. You’d have to kill me a thousand times to end me.
I have quite a number of souls bound to mine, in case you hadn’t noticed.
” He lifted one hand, palm up. From each fingertip, a shadow slipped free, curling into the air like serpents made of smoke.
I stepped back. Veylan noticed.
“What did you think these were, girl?” he gestured to the formless silhouettes around him. “How many shadows must one gather before you begin to suspect something… unnatural?”
I wet my lips nervously. “A Soul-Eater. What is that?”
He huffed, almost amused. “Exactly what it sounds like.”
“The Shaedr-Kyn feed on the souls of the living,” Aedric explained, pushing off the wards with a look of open disgust. “An abomination.”
“Please, Aedric.” Veylan’s gaze slid to him. “From one abomination to another—do not presume to judge my nature. Besides, I haven’t consumed a soul in hundreds of years.”
A strangled sound escaped me before I could stop it. I couldn’t seem to look away, my gaze caught on the way the shadows drifted and hovered around him, restless but contained. As though they were listening.
Veylan went very still. Even the shadows stilled with him, suspended midair.
“Magic always demands a price,” he fixed me unblinkingly. “And when the bargain was struck… my ability was the cost.”
A chill slid down my spine. “Bargain?”
“With the Dark Prince.” His teeth flashed in the darkness. “An eternal thirst. A hunger that will never be sated.” His mouth curved, but there was no humor in it. “Endless torment.”
His eyes darkened.
“He will deliver Elantis from those who have stolen it. He swore it.”
“Zealot,” Aedric muttered.
Veylan ignored him. “I accepted the bargain,” he continued, his attention fixed on me. “Therefore I’m the one who bears the mark. Or, in my case—marks. I have many souls bound to this pledge.” He gestured to the tattoos winding across his skin. “All magic leaves a trace.”
His eyes dropped—to my collarbone. Something cold slid down my spine.
“Careful, girl,” he murmured, another grin oozing across his face. “Or soon you'll look like me.”
My gaze followed his.
Ink.