And then I follow the three beautiful strangers into the unknown.
The real mystery is: will they still want me when they know all of my secrets?
FOUR
THE KINGDOM OF HELL
“Is there a hell hole somewhere?A pit? A hand basket perhaps?” I’ve trailed along in silence for so long I just can’t take it anymore, and the word vomit spews from my lips with all the things I’ve been thinking for at least an hour.
The attractive lines of Zilo’s muscular back deepen, and he turns to me with a disturbed glare in his pale green eyes.
“What the f—what are you talking about ‘a basket’?” he growls.
“Hell. How will we be getting to hell?” I blink at him, but it’s Romey who makes the first comment. Or sneer, I should say.
“You think you get to hell in a hand basket? You’re a fucking goddess blessed beautiful mess, aren’t you?” That carving smile of his is nasty in a way. Cruelty stings his words like that smirk kisses his lips. Even if he says the most lovely thing, it’s stained in abuse. I don’t know what hurt him, but he seems adamant to return the favor to every single person who so much as looks his way.
“Once we’re far enough away from all civilization, I’ll be our maker,” Avian explains, not noticing Rome’s dark demeanor one bit. I know he’s blind, but…he must feel it right? Does he know how much his friend hurts?
Do any of them even remotely care about each other in that way? Or is the plan to overthrow a ruler just a job to them, just as High Hell is a job to them? Are their relationships a job to them?
“Maker?” I ignore all their flaws among one another and try to understand.
“The magic of hell is fueled by the realm itself. Men like Roman and Zilo, they’re impossibly strong within the realm of hell. But I’m a maker. I can carry that magic with me. I’ll make our entryway for us. It’ll be safe and easy. You do not have to worry.” His hand lifts toward me, but he doesn’t touch. He’s polite and considerate.
How the hell did Avian end up with these two obtuse alpha-holes? They have the emotional capacity of a burnt hotdog. The personality to match too.
“Just do it here. I haven’t heard a single footstep in miles.” Roman’s serious for once. A thin line of concern is between his dark eyebrows. And stranger than that, his long fingers touch Avian’s upper arm in a comforting way I didn’t even realize he was capable of.
It’s then that the light of the moon brightens the white lines that cut across Roman’s back. They’re jagged and harsh. Deeper in some places and longer in others.
They’re scars.
My stomach jolts at the sight of the viciousness marring his golden skin. My insides crumble, but the men don’t give me time to process the thousands of wounds this man carries with him every day.
“If I’m caught, they’ll singe my magic,” Avian whispers, his silver eyes big with concern as he looks up at the man at his side.
I want to look away when Rome’s thumb brushes back and forth along the smooth, sun-kissed skin of Avian’s lined bicep. I want to. But I don’t.
Roman doesn’t reassure his friend. He doesn’t seem to be the type to understand or offer that kind of comfort to anyone.
But he does keep his hand gentle against Avian. It’s the smallest connection. It’s an unspoken passing of comradery.
And it seems to be all that the maker needs.
For he lifts his index finger just above his head. It sparks with golden and charcoal colors that burn into the night air. He cascades his magic down in one long arcing line that turns to fire right before my very eyes.
Within a matter of seconds, a perfect circle is burning in glittering sunbursts like a tunnel into the depths of pure shadows and emptiness. It’s nothing short of incredible artisan magic.
“To enter, I’ll have to lower our wards, and you’ll have to be in your true form.” Avian turns to me, and my heart dead falls right into the deepest part of my turning stomach.
“I-I can’t do that.” I shake my head so fast my pale blonde locks shift along my face.
“What?” Zilo’s rumbling tone is hinting at aggression as it seems to always be doing.
It isn’t fucking helping right now.
“Shift. Every second of our time that you waste is another chance for Avian’s magic to be spotted. Fucking change. Now!” Roman takes a hard pounding step into my space, and my nails bite into my palm at his storming closeness.
