“My Queen.” His voice is soft and sultry.
I slowly push myself up.
“Spark,” Aurelius whispers like he can’t stop himself, as I step past him.
This time, however, it is me ignoring him.
Mesmerized, I step toward the Shadow Vampire King, my future groom, and am swallowed by his shadows.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Borderlands, Blood Kingdom
Freya
Jostledon the back of the demonic lion, I curl my arms more firmly around Daire’s waist. I rest my cheek against his downy, white wings. Beneath my legs, the flanks of the fearsome demonic lion burn like the flames of hell.
I tremble.
I am being carried into the Bloods’ kingdom for the first time in my life, and it’s on the back of a creature that looks like it would rather savage me.
As an Omega in the Fang Kingdom, I wasn’t even allowed to ride a horse.
I wish that King Ulf could see me now.
Is this an honor?
Ahead of me, the beautiful Shadow Vampire King rides straight-backed on his own demonic lion, leading our procession.
A portal had appeared, dragging Lanlin, Daire, and me out of the Silver Banquet Hall and into the desert Borderlands
All my life, I dreamed of escaping my life of scrubbing floors and peeling potatoes, while being tripped down steps and slapped by the elites. I wished for adventure and the magic of the fae.
For King Daire.
I have what I’ve always wanted, right?
Then why do I think that this is a case of the old wolf saying: When the Shadow Gods give you what you pray for, they are laughing at you?
I glance around myself, fascinated by this new kingdom.
The stars are unnaturally bright in the sky, but the moon is sickly and thin.
Daire’s ravens are silhouetted like feathered bats amongst the real colony of bats, which have swooped around them as guards, ever since we appeared through the portal.
I don’t know if the bats are protecting the ravens or holding them prisoner.
But then, I have the same fucking question about the squad of Shadow Vampires who met us in the Borderlands.
I glance at the light, flexible chariot, which is being pulled by two horses next to Daire and me. It is built out of bent wood, which is lashed together with rawhide strips. The horses’ manes have been woven with the black bat emblems of Sin’s army, the Eternals.
Inside the chariot, one soldier holds the reins, while another elegantly stands as an archer in a pleated skirt and chest bands. The archer is carrying a long bow as possessively as if it’s hisbaby. A leather quiver of reed arrows is slung across his back. The arrows appear to be tipped with bone.
The wheels of the chariot kick up clouds of sand.
My eyes water.
The Eternals who march on the other side of Daire and me wear the same emblem on their leather caps. Their bronze scale armor is small and overlapping, sewn to a vest and painted black. Weaving through the pale desert, they look like scarab beetles swarming over bones.
