How could he so desperately desire the one who could consume him, yet feel the same primal pull to devour her in turn?
Even with the dragon bracelet masking Alora’s scent, Rune could somehow still taste it on his tongue. He pictured her in the cottage, smiling beneath the sun. He loathed leaving her and this vast separation, but in the light she was safer.
From him.
The coming of Vorak did little to occupy his mind. The news had spread across the courts, and all were preparing for battle, though loyalties were strained. In truth, it would be a battle for survival.
For his and Alora’s.
But what hope did he have to defeat Vorak… if he did not consume her himself? It wasn’t solely her body that he craved. He wanted her soul, her power, her light and her darkness. He wanted to devour it all.
That terrified him.
Because there was nothing stopping him from taking it.
The heavy doors creaked open. Rune didn’t look up.
Deimos and Hadeon strode in the throne room, silent and stoic. They bowed in unison.
“My lord,” Deimos greeted, his tone already carrying the stoic edge of bad news.
Rune sighed. “What sedition do you have to report today?”
“More of the same, sire. Though I have not yet discovered who stole the siphoning array, a new development has surfaced. Inevitable, perhaps, if not predictable.”
He looked up.
“I am watching the prince as you commanded,” Deimos said. “The knight and the Vareth do well to guard him in the castle, but his mother’s confinement lasted hardly a day. She has persuaded a few disgruntled lords to withdraw their fealty for Alora as the Regent of Argyle. It didn’t take much convincing. Alora has yet to present herself at court.”
“An insurrection is imminent,” Hadeon stated. “It is clear the Queen Dowager intends to use her son in a coup.”
A boy-king they could puppet. Typical.
Rune clenched his jaw, pondering whether to settle the matter himself, swiftly and permanently. Shadows curled along the floor like serpents coiling around his boots. He cared not for ungrateful lords. He had returned their homes and their land, yet they cannot see past their greed to even be grateful.
But the thought of Alora stayed his hand. She would not take too kindly to have her people fed to his demons.
“And how did the Queen Dowager convince the lords to disregard my command?” Rune asked, because he had been explicitly clear with those old mortal sods the morning after he dismantled Calveron’s control.
Deimos and Hadeon hesitated.
Rune narrowed his eyes.
“She declared Alora is not fit to rule them…” Deimos said hesitantly, his tail lashing. “For she cavorts with demons and has been tainted by the dark.”
The shadows stilled—the only sign of Rune’s fury held tightly before the quake.
“They have made no effort to prepare for the battle,” Hadeon continued. “The Queen Dowager instead has ordered them into preparing their ships to flee for the United Crown in a fortnight.”
Rune kneaded his temples. It would be to their own detriment. The curse had already sealed everyone within the enchanted dome placed over the kingdom.
No one was leaving.
“The humans would make no difference in this war,” a voice said.
The doors to the throne room creaked open as Sal’vathar swept in. His carapace armor caught the candlelight, spider legs lightly scratching against the floor. His long white hair and gray complexion was stark against the black, stone walls. Beside him strode Ira, towering and broad, clad in armor worn by war and wrath, helm beneath his arm. His massive horns cast shadows on the wall. The others slipped in behind them.
The Dominion gathered like carved statues, ancient, immortal, red eyes glinting.
