And what a chilling, dark sound it is.
“You know how the Layer Lords can be,” he argues with a sigh.
A warm hand on the small of my back surprises me as Ryc steps in beside me, his eyes fixed on Vaelyn. Rowen appears beside him, and Fenryn beside Eve.
Vaelyn’s gaze sweeps the line and he smiles.
“Impressive line up,” he teases in Malbolge. “I promise I’m not a threat.”
“The god of death is always a threat,” Eve counters and Vaelyn laughs in surprise.
“Contracted?” he asks me, pointing at Eve. His stare turns scrutinous. “Yes. Contracted and to a thorn in my side no less.” He scoffs. “If Druka ever becomes brave enough to step out of hiding, you won’t be contracted for long.”
Vaelyn holds out a hand, his palm upturned, and in a blaze of hellfire an obsidian box with a large black ribbon bow appears. Tucked between the ribbon and the box lies what appears to be a folded note. Gods only know what cursed item sits housed within.
“It’s a mortal tradition, right?” Vaelyn asks, meeting my stare. His eyes flick between Ryc and me. “To bestow gifts of prosperity to newlyweds?”
Silence.
No one answers.
“Ves,” he says, sounding pleading and disappointed. “Take it. Call it an apology for doubting your dream fae existed.”
How easily the lies roll off his tongue.
He never doubted Ryc existed.
He’s used Ryc as much as he’s used me.
“I don’t want it,” I reply, my voice utter ice. “We both know gifts from demons never come without strings.”
“Don’t give me that,” Vaelyn says, quick to counter. “Don’t give me the cold and distant Ves of the hells. We both know you’re nolonger her.”
“You want to leave a gift of prosperity?” I ask, bitter. “Then leave the Sovereign Kings alone. Leavemealone.”
Vaelyn heaves a tired sigh as he pulls the box close. “I can’t do that.” Healmostsounds convincing in his regret. “Youchosemortality. You chose to be likethem.” He glances at Rowen, at Fenryn, at Eve. “It’s my duty to collect powerful souls.”
The blaring truth sitsbetweenthe words he’s spoken.
He’s not going to neglectduty… and he’ll continue to collect powerful souls, mineincluded.
“Rest assured,” Vaelyn says, the smile returning to his face. “No Sovereign King has taken my offer thus far.”
Thus far.
He sets the box upon the floor, stepping back.
“Regardless, congratulations,” he says in common tongue. “I’m sorry things couldn’t be different.”
In a crimson blaze ofhellfireVaelyn vanishes, leaving a scorched ring upon the floor. Heaving a shuddering breath, my fingers curl into trembling fists. Before my darkened thoughts rush up to consume me, I rush forward, crossing the small distance to the box.
“Ves, is that a good idea?” Eve asks, trying and failing to keep the worry and concern from her voice.
“Not opening it right now,” I reply, pulling the note from beneath the ribbon. “Just reading the note.”
I open it.
And my jaw sets tight.
