Dragon-like beasts with long necks screeched overhead. Below them, hundreds of demons stirred in the dark. Demons of every size and shape had gathered. Horned beasts slithered, crouched, and towered, shapes shifting between flesh and smoke. Some were hideous, grotesque things born of nightmare. Others were terribly beautiful, graceful, with curling horns, with pretty merciless smiles.
Thousands of glowing eyes watched her.
Their growls echoed through the cavern like the groaning of the mountain itself. A hiss of hunger passed through the crowd like a wave.
Her chest tightened, her breath thinning. Rune’s arm tightened around her waist. His expression was calm, if not as hard as the stone beneath her feet. But the reassurance in his touch calmed her racing heart.
At the base of the stairs stood the Harbingers in black armor.
Calla, Deimos, and Hadeon were poised like statues carved from war. The first line of defense. Hounds circled the dais like guard dogs, with exposed skulls and eyes glowing like living flame.
He had prepared protection.
And on the dais, a throne waited.
It wasn’t a chair. It was a jagged monument carved from volcanic rock, twisted into sharp angles and cruel edges, as though forged from the ribs of a dead beast. It smelled of basalt, and the surface was still warm, as if lava yet stirred beneath.
The chamber quieted as Rune took a seat, pulling her onto his lap. Alora stifled a gasp, sitting stiffly. A knowing smile played on the corners of his mouth, but his gaze remained fixed ahead. His voice whispered through her mind in warning.Don’t move, little bird, or they will hunt what they deem prey.
Her chest tightened with a trapped breath. She straightened her shoulders, composing herself.
Rune leaned back in his jagged throne of black stone as shadows swarmed around him. He growled a command, a single word that vibrated through her core.
“Kneel.”
As one, the demons lowered to one knee.
Not a second of hesitation. Her heart thundered with this grand show of power.
Rune’s voice turned casual, almost amused. “Pardon my absence,” he drawled, trailing a clawed finger lazily down her arm. “I was rather… preoccupied last night.”
Alora shot him a glare and tried to rise, but his arm tightened around her waist.
Rune continued aloud, his tone sharpening like a knife splitting silk. “As most of you have already caught her scent, the rumors are true.” He looked at her now but spoke to them. “I have at last claimed my bride. Your Shadow Queen.”
The title struck like a whip.
Alora flinched, breath catching as a dozen eyes locked on her. The crowd hissed, teeth bared in sharp grins.
“Quite the stubborn one,” Rune went on, idly playing with a coil of her hair. “But the court always claims what it is owed.”
Laughter rippled through the throne room, low and sharp, predatory. The stone beneath her feet vibrated as voices rose together, a chant rolling through the chamber like thunder.
“Ver nocthra vi’ignis va’karr!”
The words struck something deep in her chest, foreign and heavy. A flush crept up her neck as more demons joined in, red eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. Their attention pinned her in place, weighed and measured by a language not meant for her.
The shadows surged around the throne in answer to Rune’s dark grin.
Suddenly, it all felt like mockery. The crown on her head held no more value than rotten mushrooms and twigs. She clenched her gown in trembling fists.
“I trust you will show her the same fealty you owe to me.” Rune’s gaze swept the chamber before fixing on the covered balcony above where six figures sat apart from the others. Watching. “Irrevocably.”
The demons below hissed and muttered like restless beasts, yet those six did not stir. Their stillness alone made Alora’s skin prickle. Shadows clung to them thickly, as though darkness itself bent in deference.
Whoever they were, they were not like the others.
“For you know what I do to those who covet what is mine,” Rune finished, the words curling like smoke.
