Chapter 1
Kaden Moorgate, Heir to the shadowlands
The bodies are burning.
Charred flesh and singed hair billow up from the large pyres lining the black obsidian bridge. Bodies wither and scream as anguish coats the air.
It’s my childhood lullaby.
The sounds of those impaled, being cooked over flames is normal in the Shadowlands. My kingdom, my father’s kingdom, is known to be ruthless, worshiping the fire God Bel and his creation, using fire in all ways possible. Including torture.
For years, the Humans have sought to claim the Shadowlands, hoping to catch us off guard. They crave our power, our people. But every time they strike, they fail.
Dusting off my shoulders, I barely pay their screams any heed. They deserved their fate.
Today, they attacked us right at dawn. They hoped to steal a few people and flee. Unfortunately, they did not expect General Oslo to have me on the front lines.
With sure strikes, I sliced those cowards with my sword, pushing them back with my fellow Dark Fae.
It was only luck that the last man I killed had a crumpled letter in his palm. It was an intercepted missive, a letter sent by the Lone Human King Griffin, to my father, King Zelos the Wretched.
Sworn enemies do not exchange parchments. Whatever it was, it’s important.
That’s why I’m here, being reduced to an errand boy, as I run the note to my father, shadows dancing behind me, feeding off my aggravation.
I know the sight I make—a dark shape shrouded by magic, the red haze of my land obscuring the surroundings. I’m as much a monster as my enemies see me as.
The guards stationed at the palace step aside, keeping their eyes down. It’s best not to test me right now.
Calling on my magic—magic only I possess—I pull open the black doors and take off to the throne room. We don’t know how or why, since magic is not known to our continent, but it’s given me an advantage on the battlefield.
Battle still surges in my body and I have to fight the urge to return to the front as I hurry. It’s what I was trained to do—be the beast that destroys our enemies. But no, here I must be.
At the entrance of the throne room are twin onyx doors, etched with grotesque faces and a blood-soaked land shaped by my ancestors. Their fangs, long and wicked are carved into the stone, gleaming under the torches above.
It’s a battle from long ago. One forgotten to history.
Yet, it’s a reminder— of how we’ve always had to fight to survive.
Even now, centuries after The Great War of Neevea ended, we are still battling a foe that will not stop. The Humans, greedy and weak, steal my people away because all Dark Fae can do the one thing the Humans cannot - our blood can heal any ailment, any wound.
The doors groan and protest as my strength shoves them wide. The guards keep their eyes forward as I saunter in and stare at my father, sitting on his massive ebony seat. Shadows flicker over the smooth, cold floor like phantom ghosts.
My shadows. I have yet to release my rage and they flicker, ready to swipe everyone away.
“What is it?” my father barks, eyes narrowing.
With two fingers, I pass off the parchment to the guard with a practiced bored gesture.
King Zelos is almost three centuries old but doesn’t look a day past a human’s middle age. Whereas we both have long raven hair and burning amber eyes, he’s built for beauty and me for the battlefield.
He waits as the guard hands off the paper to him, shoulders strained. He wasn’t expecting me to return so soon.
It’s hard not to see his unease. I am my father’s heir, but I was trained from an early age to be his favorite weapon.
It’s made me dangerous and a threat. Even to him.
It’s why now, we rarely stand alone together. Not because we don’t get along—we don’t— but because he doesn’t trust me.
He’s smart. He shouldn’t.
Standing, I tuck my hands behind my back, legs opened wide in a neutral stance. My father reads the note, once, twice, before looking up at me, mouth curving into a baffled grin. “Am I to believe this is true?”
“Believe it or not, I took it directly from the scout’s corpse. Unfortunately killed before the white flag could be seen.” I’m not in the least bit apologetic. I’ve never liked Humans. “It’s from King Griffin directly.”
“It’s a declaration of truce.” He scoffs, tossing the brittle parchment to the floor. My jaw locks tight. “King Griffin has never wanted peace. Never before. Why send a scout now begging for it?”
“Maybe this sad excuse of a war has grown tiresome for the Humans?” War is too strong a word for what our kingdoms do.
We battle, the last two fractions on our continent who still fight. The Humans try to take our people, and I slaughter them. My father tries to assassinate the king and, yet, he continues to live. It’s not real war. “They tire easily of things.”
“As most things do, when they do not live as long as we do,” my father mutters, arrogantly. He sips from his silver chalice.
Inhaling, I catch the copy tang of blood in the air. All Dark Fae must ingest animal blood to survive, and my father is already partaking early today.
Luckily for him, he does not have the affliction that I possess.
I cannot sustain off of animal blood alone; I must ingest mortal blood to live.
It’s a curse all first born royals must bear—usually succumbing to the beast within the first year of it’s manifestation, all my ancestors morph into a deranged, mindless monster that is compelled to take and destroy until sated.
My uncle was the first to learn to harness his curse. When I was born, and it manifested, he helped me do the same.
“What do you think of this, my heir?” Zelos asks, voice prompting.
Silently, I glance at the torches flanking his throne, watching the flames stretch toward the ceiling. My mind is always a storm of thoughts, actions, and consequences. But my father rarely seeks my opinion. Zelos only likes his own counsel.
Rigidly, I shrug. “I think we should attend.”
“The peace talks?” My father mocks. “That’s absurd. We cannot go into his lands, into his palace and hope to walk back out.”
My shoulders tense, shadows flickering off of me in heavy waves at the careless dismissal.
Zelos’ eyes glint with annoyance when he sees my shadows grow. “It’s a trap, my heir. He doesn’t want peace. He wants us.”
Under normal circumstances, I would agree.
“So?” I shove my hands into my pockets of my leather pants. Ash falls where I stand. “Do you think a few Dark Fae would not be able to withstand his attack directly? Besides, what better way to figure out his plans than to attend his peace talks?”
Zelos doesn’t look convinced, back straight as his goblet dangles from pale fingers. They press just enough to indent the metal. “What do you propose?”
Licking my lips, I shift my weight, back straight as I answer, plans unfolding quickly. I have to let him think it’s his idea otherwise he’ll never agree.
“We go with a small force so as not to raise suspicion. I’ll bring Serafina and Reid with me.
We see who else has received his summons, hear what they’re planning, understand their forces.
” My father’s lips tighten in thought, and I push ahead.
“I’m sure others have been contacted. This way, we can see how strong he truly is, how the rest of the world fairs, and find out any secrets we can exploit. ”
We rarely interact with the world. We trade with very few people and we have no knowledge of the Witch Covens. This could give us a good understanding of the dynamics of Neevea. Understand their strengths and weaknesses.
Maybe use it. Maybe I can use it.
Rubbing his chin, my father weighs his options. It’s a good plan and he knows it. A cunningness swims in his amber eyes, so startling similar to my own that my breath hitches.
“You may be on to something, Kaden.” He says my name, jolting me unexpectedly. Ever since I was a young boy, I’ve only ever been his heir. “If we can learn his weakness, his strengths, we can use whatever weapon he has against him.”
“That’s not what—”
“It’s perfect!” My father stands, walking the few steps down from his pedestal, stopping before me.
I see the glee in his wide smile and my hand drifts to my sword.
“Think about it. He’s a weak Human, somehow holding his own against us.
If not for the Crimson Army, we’d be even stronger.
He must have some kind of weapon that’s helping him.
Keeping him from falling to our forces.” He grabs my shoulder and I tense.
“We can finally stop all these unnecessary fights. End it. Once and for all.”
“To what end?” My one eyebrow raises. “What is the end goal, Father?”
“We can finally take the lands, conquer Neevea for all Fae. Get rid of the Humans. Without them, our people can flourish beyond the borders. We can grow.”
Shifting my stance, I nod slowly. “You want total domination.”
Zelos has always been power-hungry, but this more. It’s all consuming.
He’ll damn the world for this quest of power.
Unfortunately, all the other Fae kingdoms in the north will follow him. Dark Fae are not the only ones hunted.
“Total domination? No.” He shakes his head. “Peace? Our people safe? Freedom from those Humans? Yes.” His eyes harden, narrowing on me. “Don’t you want to keep our people safe?”
Safety is all I fight for, but to allow my father untapped power, would be foolish. I have to tread carefully.
“I only want our people to be safe,” I respond.
“Good.” He nods, pleased. “You’ll do as you suggested.
Attend the peace summit, learn all about Griffin and his allies.
But you’ll look for a weapon— a reason for his continual power.
” His lips curl in disgust as he continues, “It’ll be so satisfying to kill him and destroy his throne.
A Human in power bodes nothing well for the Fae, my heir. Nothing.”
Bowing my head, I nod. “Yes, Father. I’ll ready right away.”
Turning on my heel, I stalk across the throne room, mind already turning to preparations. As my hand lands on the heavy doors, my father calls my attention again.
“Do not fail me, Kaden.”
For one brief moment, I’m transported back in time. To a dank cell with the heaviness of chains on my wrists and dried blood stuck under my nails. Of a howling beast inside my head that urges me to take and claim and feed.
My father stands before me, eyes hard and mouth sneering in disgust as thick bars separate us.
He had spoken those same words to me in the dungeons all those years ago, as I struggled to tame the beast within my soul. I had wanted to please him, to become the heir he demanded.
I sacrificed much to do it, but I didn’t fail.
I won’t now.