CASPIAN
An unexplainable energy slithered through the streets of Veilmar, one composed of ancient wisdom and a malice that warned of the darkest force in our realm.
It clung to the air with an unrelenting determination—an unquenchable thirst—to snuff out any living organism. To eradicate the essence of life and all it entailed without an ounce of consideration for what would follow. Even though instinct called for me to flee, something rooted me in place—something commanding, somethingevil.
The rainfall slowed overhead, but the screams rolling from the docks continued. While I knew the royal guard had ported, and likely a fleet or more of backup approached, a deep knowing stirred within me that each shout of fear belonged to those who had intended to infiltrate the island. Whether it was an entity responsible for protecting those of Veilmar, or the clash with the crews manning the docks, I didn’t care.
Not when there were far more pressing concerns.
The lightweight metallic plates and luminescent inlays came into view first. The azure, silver, and vibrant plum linen beneath solidifiedthe crown's presence, but it was the cloaked individual who walked amongst them that immediately instilled a sense of unease.
Carvings so ancient, so otherworldly, etched through numerous layers of her ashen flesh. They belonged to an ancient language I recognized from the scrolls still tucked away on my ship. I hadn’t been able to decipher their meanings. Dropping her hood, pointed ears came into view, various silver and gold earrings adorning each of them. Instead of strands of hair, horns nestled against her skull, curling back with a fluidity that seemed graceful but hinted at lethality.
An Other.
“Kneel,”she hissed, forked tongue lapping across her sharpened canines.
Unable to prevent my body from moving, I collided with the ground, sharp pain shooting up both thighs. Teeth clenched, I ground them together with the mounting wrath flowing through my veins. No matter how intentionally I tried to move, there was no result; my body was pinned by her command.
A false goddess.
A dark goddess.
A fuckingcunt.
The corners of her mouth curled upward into a near-feline-like smile as she closed the distance between us. Footfalls slowing, she came to a halt before me. Raising her hand, she settled two taloned fingers beneath my chin, forcing me to look up at her.
“Youarerather pretty.”
“Happy to be of service,” I gritted out between clenched teeth, my brows narrowing to hood my glare. “Which hole did you crawl out of to get here?”
She laughed. “And broody. I think you and I could get along rather well.”
“I will respectfully have to disagree with you.”
“Aw.” Feigning a pout, she glanced over her shoulder as if expecting someone. “I figured you’d be rather keen on the idea, considering you’ve lost the two you trusted the most.”
Syoran.
Sapphira.
My chest rose with a rage-filled inhale. “What the fuck are you insinuating?”
“Insinuating? Oh,darling,this is nothing but truth.” The sharpened tips of her claws ghosted down my neck, tracing the column of my throat with intention. “Your right-hand was decimated by Malrik Ravelle. And the woman… Oh, what was her name?”
“Sapphira, our Beloved Other,” one of the men flanking her answered.
Saph?
Attempting to lunge forward, I only managed an inch before an unseen force cinched down on my frame ten times harder. “Yes, yes, Sapphira.”
“What of her?” I seethed, nearly spitting at her feet.
It was impossible. She was lying. There was no way Syoran had departed this plane to meet with my father. I refused to believe in the possibility or what it would mean if it were thetruth.
He was stronger than that, far more capable than he let on. And Ravelle? He was a pathetic sack of?—
My breath hitched as a figure slipped from the alleyway, espresso bob swaying with each step. Swords bouncing against her hip, she approached, her caramelized gaze downcast, as if she refused to acknowledge me. The tight-fitted red blouse only solidified it all, accentuating the curves that I’d explored countless times.
