Gold coins sat scattered on the heavy, long desk. A pile of jewels took up the entire right side of the desk, some having tumbled onto the floor. A sick feeling washed over me, and I wondered if the riches had belonged to the owners of these skulls. My question was quickly answered when I noticed the two skeletons standing guard behind him. Their worn and tattered clothes hung from their bones. One was missing a jaw, and the other carried a dented shield. They were unlike what Tobias made. No flesh hung on their bones, and no life remained in them. It was as if the only thing keeping them upright was whatever dark magic this being willed.
Kaden was standing on the other side of a circular dais. What appeared to have once been an altar rose from the center, but it looked like someone had been using it as a workbench. Ancient texts, bones, and strange vials were scattered over its surface.
“Welcome, Ayla Deyanira,” the powerful stranger said, “to the Otherworld.”
My breath caught as I truly looked at him. This man possessed an alien beauty that was almost painful to look at. His dark hair was cropped close and spiky. Stubble dusted a jawline I feared was sharper than Samkiel’s. His dark tunic blended with the shadows, and I hadn’t realized how tall he was until he stepped from their depths.
I hated that I had to lean back to look up at him. It made me feel submissive to a predator who thought he had an advantage over me. His tunic was open almost to his navel, displaying a sculpted chest and far more abs than you would expect to find on a man. Necklaces encircled his throat, some short, others long. The gold made his tan skin almost gleam, the bracelets around his wrists heavy and thick, the rings on his fingers matching. He was devastatingly handsome in an Otherworldly way, and he moved with the confidence of a being who knew his place in the world, and it was at the top.
“Deyanira?” I said. “That’s not my last name.”
He reached out, curling a long strand of my hair around his finger. “Oh, but it is, and my gods, the power you hold.” His nostrils flared as if he were inhaling my scent, and he flicked his gaze toward Kaden. “Does she always smell like this?”
I didn’t want to look behind me to see his answer, but the way the man’s smile widened, I knew Kaden had nodded in affirmation. I scowled and swatted his hand away. Shock flickered in his eyes as if no one had ever raised their hand to him, much less popped him.
“How about we keep our hands to ourselves,” I said, glaring at him. “And I may stink, but it’s only because we’ve been trekking through this insane realm filled with disgusting swamps.”
His smile made my gut turn. “Oh, I meant no insult. You smell of power, Ayla Deyanira. Pure raw power.”
“That’s not my last name,” I gritted out. “It’s Martinez.”
“Oh, but it is,” the man said, gesturing toward the massive ceiling above. “They whisper your name like a curse through these realms, Ayla. The babe that, against all odds, survived and returned. You were destined for such greatness that the gods themselves feared it. Celestial born, Ig’Morruthen turned.”
My jaw set as he tossed my lineage and my past back at me, and he was doing it in the same room as the bastard who had turned me. “Glad to know I have a reputation.”
“That you do.” His eyes flicked from mine to Kaden’s. “And you? You brought your most prized possession here. For what?”
“I am not his,” I snapped.
Both ignored me as if I were beneath their notice or attention.
“That is not why we are here.”
“Oh?” The man’s brow flicked. “Do tell? Is it because you wish the crown for yourself? I heard you proclaim yourself King of the Otherworld on Onuna.”
I watched as the undercurrents between them turned tense, their gazes locked, fire meeting fire. Kaden had proclaimed that, and people had fallen into line so willingly on Onuna. I imagined that to those who truly held the title, it would seem nothing short of traitorous. I swallowed, not ready or willing to have to fight this beautiful bone man. If I died because I had to fight for Kaden’s life, I would be seriously unhappy in the fucking afterlife.
“Yes, a mere title that made mortals bow. They tend to love the theatrics,” Kaden responded.
The tension held, thick and suffocating. Fuck. I willed my talons forward. If a fight broke out, I would definitely take the three skeletons on the left first, two with chipped swords and one with a brittle-looking spear. Doable. I could probably use some of the things off the altar as weapons. The biggest threat was going to be this strange man, and my instincts screamed at me that fighting him would be an issue.
Unconsciously, I shifted, putting myself in a better defensive position, but then the man smirked and his eyes flickered. “And here I thought you were attempting to replace the crown you’d never have because your father saw you more as a pet than a child.”
Kaden bristled. The man didn’t catch it with his cunning gaze, but I did. I knew Kaden. If I had a heart, a ripe, unbruised one, that hadn’t been shredded and used for so long, that he hadn’t broken again and again, perhaps I’d feel pity for him. Fortunately, for us all, I did not.
“And you’ve since dropped that title, I’d assume,” the man asked, and I noticed that the skeletons ringing the massive carved room were all staring at Kaden. An eerie magic flowed from them. It wasn’t like Camilla’s, but I still felt it. They all moved on his whim, and I wondered how many he had surrounding us that we couldn’t see.
“Of course,” he said. “I meant no disrespect.” Kaden swallowed, and I noticed the apprehension in his voice. Whoever he was, he had enough power that even Kaden was backing down. It was something I had never seen happen.
“I know you don’t. I’m fond of you, Kaden. You gave me Dahlia.”
“Dahlia?” I asked, looking at Kaden.
“One of his wives,” Kaden said, not bothering to cast a look my way. No, he kept his attention on the beautiful man who apparently didn’t know how to button a shirt. What was it about this guy that made Kaden react like a predator meeting another? Afraid to expose his throat in fear it’d get torn out. “It was a very long time ago.”
“Indeed.”
My head spun. Wait. “Wives?As in plural?” I asked the beautiful stranger. “How many do you have?”
