And that was a debt he’d never forget.
12
July 20, 5654 BC
Thorn knew the minute the Malachai entered Azmodea. There was a disturbance so profound that it felt as if the entire realm had been ruptured. It shook his castle like an earthquake.
Before he could rethink his actions, he went to his father’s palace.
Sure enough, he heard Adarian’s shouts and demands for release long before he reached his father’s throne room.
Somehow, they’d done it. They’d captured the uncapturable.
And the Malachai’s full powers were on display. Demons were dropping dead all around while Azura and Noir did their best to corral the beast.
Falling back into the shadows, Thorn knew better than to make his presence known at this time. Having gone up against Adarian already, he had a healthy respect for the demon’s abilities. Simi wasn’t here this time to pull him out of the fire. And he had no desire to be beaten that badly ever again.
While he might not care if he lived or died, he definitely didn’t want to be in pain.
“I won’t serve you!” Adarian growled at Noir and Azura.
Thorn could respect that.
Noir cracked his whip at the king of demons. “You will do as we say.”
He’d give it to his father, he was …
Remarkably stupid.
And it took an entire team of their demons to get the Malachai out of the throne room to where they intended to keep him stashed for the rest of …
Eternity.
Unless the Malachai had a son who would replace him, he’d live here in their dungeon forever. That was the theory, except for a prophesy that said there would be a Malachai born one day who would destroy the world.
Or one who might save it.
Competing prophesies because the gods never made sense, and they never wanted to make anything easy on anyone.
All this because his father and Azura were jealous over Apollymi. Jealous because she’d been lucky enough to find someone to love her in spite of her flaws. For that alone, they’d sought to punish her by killing her husband, Kissare, and cursing their son Monakribos—the first Malachai.
Adarian was an innocent victim of that curse.
As were all the Malachai. Conceived in violence to do violence and to die violently. All cursed to die by the hand of their own son once he reached adolescence.
The only way to avoid that fate was to kill the son before he hit puberty. What an awful fate to be condemned to.
Thorn couldn’t imagine anything worse. And all caused by his own father’s jealous cruelty. The fact that he was descended from that beast wore at him.
How could anyone be so vicious?
No wonder Apollymi had hesitated to save him. It was a wonder the goddess was even sane after everything they’d put her through.
“What are you doing here?”
He jumped at Jaden’s whispered question. He hated whenever someone snuck up on him.
And honestly, he hated the god who’d bargained for his birth. Just being this close to Jaden made his skin crawl. But at the moment, he had more important things to concern himself with. “I’m spying. You?”
