Chapter 63 #2
Sal’vathar’s smile turned sharp as glass as he regarded her. “When Elyōn sealed the Primordials, he made them the pillars that hold up the realms. Do you know what will happen should they break free as well?”
The collapse of the world.
Inwardly she shivered, though Alora didn’t allow any sliver of fear on her face. “I know what is at stake, Sal’vathar.”
Balgor grunted, gnawing on a slab of meat. “Thus, I repeat—folly.”
Beside him, Morvenna reclined in her chair, the thin silk of her gown slipping scandalously as she stretched with a languid sigh. “We succubae are not bred for war, regardless.”
Calla rolled her eyes to the ceiling.
“No, you prefer to breed,” Nexia intoned, and Morvenna sneered
Their useless bickering only made Alora’s temples tense. “If only the kingdom wasn’t sealed in by the curse. Then we could have sought aid. The elves and the mages or even other fae courts surely have the magic to help us fight.”
Deimos’ mouth twisted. “The Vale of the Elves is currently in civil war, my lady. Two princes claw at each other’s throats and would sooner see their kingdom collapse than kneel to one another.
As for the Magos Empire, it takes years to debate the raising of a single levy, let alone a battle. And the fae…”
“The fae do not march to war lightly,” Zinnia said at last. “But we remember who stood when others hid.”
Lord Zuma grunted in agreement, while Zinnia’s pink eyes flickered briefly to Commander Caelum.
The motion was small. Intentional. And for the briefest moment, something cold slid through Alora’s chest as she recalled Delphi’s reaction to him as well.
Why?
The thought barely had time to form before Caelum cleared his throat. “The humans are brave when it counts,” he said evenly, clamping a fist over his heart. “The people of Argyle have bled to regain their land back from invasion. They are not going to bow to another.”
Alora nodded, the doubt slipping away as quickly as it had come… though the unease lingered.
“Of course…” Caelum added evenly, briefly glancing at her. “The odds would be in greater favor with better numbers.”
Her stomach sank. More than two thirds of the kingdom’s population had fallen to the Sleeping Curse, and it could not be broken until Vorak was destroyed.
Regardless, she couldn’t shake the feeling they were all headed to their doom.
This wasn’t enough.
The Goddess of Death had all but confirmed she would return to gather the souls of the dead. Likely hers. Alora was not ready to think about that yet.
The thought of Sunneva drew a thought, unbidden, to her mate. At this current point in time, Jokull still ruled the Everfrost in the east. That was a day’s flight away on dragon back.
Two gods against one Primordial may improve their odds.
Hesitantly, Alora suggested through the bond. I know you and your brother did not part well, but perhaps we might seek his aid—
A muscle in Rune’s jaw flexed.
She had already braced herself for refusal, but when his voice brushed her mind, it carried quiet resignation. I did attempt to contact him, but his kingdom is also sealed. I suspect it is Fate’s way of guarding his destiny.
Her heart faltered. That one glimmer of hope had been extinguished before it could even surface. But if they could speak now, would Jokull come?
I have given him every reason to refuse me, Rune replied. I spent years as his enemy, allowing my demons to terrorize his kingdom merely out of spite. I marched against him twice and nearly siphoned his son. He owes me nothing.
The truth of it settled between them. This was not pride but consequence.
Jokull will not meet Sunneva for another century, Rune added. She would not allow anything that might endanger their future.
Understanding stirred in a quiet ache. Perhaps the seal around the Everfrost was more than Fate’s doing. She could not fault Sunneva for guarding her future.
Alora had done the same.
“Mortal armies and fractured kingdoms cannot stand against Vorak.” Sal’vathar’s limbs twitched. “It would take a god to defeat a god.”
“Gods cannot kill their own kind, Sal,” Nexia snickered. “You know this.”
Sal’vathar’s eyes caught the firelight as they lingered on Rune for a beat too long. “Yes, you are right, my dear.”
Alora’s breath caught, though her mate remained indifferent.
Does he know that you are not a trueborn god? she asked through the bond.
He suspects.
“The answer may lie in the Rift,” Ira cut in, his deep voice rumbling in the chamber. “There must be a way to seal it. Then Vorak would remain chained.”
Rune stilled beside her.
All eyes landed on Deimos. They had left the task of researching the ancient scrolls to him. Yet the spy shifted on his feet, and his gaze flickered to Rune.
Alora looked at him too. He kept still, refusing to meet her gaze.
You know.
His jaw flexed. It is not an option.
“The Rift was opened by a soul’s destruction,” Morvenna mused as she cuddled Ira’s large arm, nuzzling him. “Only the anchor of a powerful soul could bind it closed.”
“Would you offer yours, Shadow King?” Sal’vathar’s eerie eyes fixed on Alora. “Or hers?”
The chamber went still.
As did Rune.
Shadows ripped through the chamber like the arc of a scythe. Sal’vathar did not move nor flinch as a cut sliced past his throat. Black blood leaked down his chest.
“I thought not.”
The torches flickered, as though the mountain itself had drawn a breath.
Soul Anchor? Alora sent the thought to Rune, but he did not answer. His crimson gaze burned like coals, fixed on the Dominion.
“There are many demigods roaming about who may serve well enough,” Morvenna suggested uneasily, though she was wise enough not to look at Lady Zinnia.
“Let us find a divine soul to anchor the Rift. Even a mortal one will hold it long enough for the Netherworld Gate to open. Then we can go home while Vorak takes his due.”
The words made Alora’s stomach curdle with fury.
They would be so callous as to throw away another life for their security. The Mortal Realm be damned.
Alora rose from her seat, magic flaring white beneath her palms. “No.”
The word cracked through the chamber like a whip. Shadows stirred, restless, answering her fury.
“I will not abandon my people to slaughter. If you would hide while the world burns, then I will drag you into the sun myself.”
Her voice rang with such conviction that the chamber fell silent.
Then Ira threw back his head and laughed, the sound booming like thunder. “Ha! She speaks with fire!” He slammed a fist onto the table, leaving a fractured web in the polished glass. “For you, I will ride to my death, my queen.”
The Harbingers murmured approval, tension easing.
Rune let their voices fade before rising. “We have called on your legions, and you will answer. Prepare to march to the Hydell Hills in three days’ time.” His gaze swept over the Dominions, crimson eyes burning. “Vorak may be a Titan, but even Titans fall.”
Dinner was an abysmal affair.
The Court of Sin and Ruin feasted and rutted with an urgency that bordered on panic. Wine spilled. Demons danced around a roaring fire. Music carried like a hypnotic hum. Laughter drowned out the moans lingering in the shadows, entwined bodies finding pleasure in the dark.
Alora’s stomach churned as she watched from their table in the dining hall.
This was the way of demons, and Rune carried on with no reaction.
But she could see from his blank expression, he was present in body only.
She wanted to retreat to their bedchamber so they could discuss the Soul Anchor or even work up the courage to tell him about Vorak haunting her like a chill in her bones.
But before she could gather the words, Rune rose from his seat.
“I must step out for a moment,” he said quietly.
He glanced at Hadeon and Calla and they dutifully stepped forward, already taking their places behind her chair as her personal guards. Though she really didn’t need protection anymore.
“Where are you going?” Alora asked, her brow furrowing with worry.
“I will be back later tonight.” Rune kissed the top of her head, then slipped away into the shadows.
That was all.
No reassurance. No explanation.
The air beside her cooled far too quickly.
She sighed down at her plate of untouched mortal food. There was no point in staying here then.
Rising to her feet, the Harbingers followed as she slipped into a dark hallway. The torches lit up at her presence. She descended into the mountain’s hidden veins, where the displaced had been sheltered from sight and flame. The mountain’s heart breathed with shadow the deeper she went.
Tunnels opened on their own for her, Karag D?r already sensing what she wanted.
Alora knew she was close when the cavern walls glinted with Moonstone crystals embedded in the rock. Ore to keep demons at bay. Here, Calla and Hadeon halted and took their places guarding the opening of the tunnel.
Alora strode further in until she reached the carved stone door at the end.
It stood sealed with glowing glyphs, ancient wards etched deep into its surface, each sigil pulsing with quiet intent to bar demons from passing.
Alora pressed her palm to the cold stone, and the magic yielded at once, the light dimming as the door gave way beneath her touch.
Warmth greeted her on the other side.
The dining hall beyond was hushed and welcoming, long tables set with simple fare, the low murmur of conversation threaded with soft music. Laughter drifted gently through the space, unhurried, unafraid. Her people moved through the space with careful purpose, tending wounds, sharing food.
It was nothing like the revel above.
The banners of Argyle and the Seven Suns hung from the vaulted ceiling among the torches, their familiar coat of arms stirring something tight and tender in her chest. Guards stood watch along the walls, alert but relaxed.
Stairwells led to many floors with several halls leading to the hundreds of chambers where more moved about as they settled in.
Rihan sat not in the lord’s seat prepared for him, but at a crowded table among children, laughter bright on his face as they stroked Nexus’s wings and scratched his ears. The Vareth purred in contentment, tail flicking lazily.
Caelum stood nearby, vigilant as ever.
At another table of Minotaurs, Theia laughed freely, Zuma’s deep voice rumbling in response as he told a grand tale.
For a moment, Alora simply stood and breathed.
“Alora!” Rihan’s eyes lit up when he saw her.
He ran over to take her hand, pulling her to the tables. Her people cheered and waved as she passed, bowing and praising her for saving Argyle, though Alora didn’t feel worthy of such praise while so much was still left uncertain.
But she stayed at their request, longer than she meant to, anchoring herself to the reason she could not falter. These were the lives she would die to protect.
So, she let herself briefly rest in a fragile peace, carved out by stone.