This will work.
It has to work.
A warm hand presses to the small of my back. Oziel watches his people trickle in from the hidden balcony we stand upon. He’s the picture of calm, at least on the surface. There are cracks in his armor, though. His clenched fist. The tension he’s holding in his shoulders. The way his eyes dart around the room. All of it indicates his nervousness for tonight. In many ways, it feels like we have one shot to figure out who is sabotaging the River Hel. There won’t be another opportunity like this.
I reach out and gently place my hand on Oziel’s cheek. His skin is warm beneath my fingertips,tense with unspoken thoughts. For a moment, his gaze locks on the crowd gathering below, but then he turns to me. His golden eyes search mine, and though I can’t be sure, I think he relaxes under my touch—just slightly, like a breath held too long finally released.
“We won’t fail,” I say, my voice steady with a conviction I have no right to claim. There’s no logic behind it, no proof to lean on, only a feeling, deep and insistent, that something will be revealed tonight.
“We won’t fail.” He repeats the words like a prayer.
Oziel closes the distance between us and pulls my body flush against his. We move at the same time, our lips crashing together in a hungry kiss of lust and something else I can’t consider. My brain tries to remind me that I’m walking a dangerous path. That once this is over, I’m leaving. But my heart seems to have other plans.
Would it be so bad to find love? Even with the demon king himself? I’ve seen how corrupt love can be with my sister, and his parents’ own love got them killed. It can be deadly, leaving wounds that will never heal. There’s a certain vulnerability in love that I’m not sure I’m ready for.
A loud chime pulls Oziel away from me. The moment his lips are gone, I can think clearly. What the fuck am I doing? Being a horny, stupid bitch, that’s what I’m doing. I mentally shake myself before turning to see what the sound was.
The whole room has gone quiet, save for a few low murmurs as the entrance doors are cleared, forcing all the demons mingling close by to move back. “It’s time,”Oziel says just as the chime starts again. Two guards march side by side, wearing silver and black armor, deadly swords on their hips.
Shouts and screams soon rise above the conversation as another two guards walk out. This time, they both drag in a bound man. At least I think it’s a man. Dirt and grime cover his entire body, like he hasn’t seen a shower in years. His hair is shaved close to his scalp, bloody patches covering a few places. His clothes—if one can even call them that—are in tatters, held together by strings. There’s also something on his back, shimmering and translucent. Some kind of magic?
As if reading my thoughts, Oziel says, “He’s a pixie. The fading shimmers on his back are the remnants of his wings. They’ve been clipped.”
Just then, the guards shove the pixie down onto his knees as they reach the center of the grand chamber. Heavy chains rattle as the guards secure them to the iron locks embedded in the floor, binding him in place. His shoulders slump, and for a moment, his delicate, wingless back rises and falls with a shuddering breath. Then he screams.
It’s not of pain. There’s so much malice behind his words, hurling insults like daggers. His words bleed together, making him hard to understand. The demons around him begin to laugh, clearly amused by the pixie’s display. He’s the entertainment for tonight.
White-hot anger sears my body as I remember the heinous acts this pathetic pixie committed. All my earlier hesitations are gone, and my heart aches for the family he never deserved. The lowest of bastards harmschildren, and I will take great pleasure in watching the life drain from him.
“Come, it’s nearly our time.” Oziel’s voice is low but firm as he takes my hand, his grip both steady and unyielding. Without hesitation, he leads me toward the grand staircase, its marble steps worn smooth by centuries of passage.
Above the chaos, Garvan’s voice rings out, cutting through the vexed screams of the dying man. He speaks our names with a practiced authority, commanding the attention of the gathered crowd.
Oziel’s fingers tighten around mine for a brief moment, whether in reassurance or warning, I can’t tell. Then, with synchronized steps, we descend, our movements deliberate, shadows flickering along the walls as all eyes turn toward us. Normally, I hate attention on me, eyes boring into me, silently judging me. But right now, I focus on the pixie, forgetting everything and everyone exists.
When we reach the bottom of the stairs, Garvan meets us. In his hand is an old box, opened to show a gold necklace. It’s old and rusted, with a mysterious crimson stain on the pendant. “This necklace belongs to the pixie. It will help strengthen your power over him.” Garvan hands me the box, and I hold it as if it were a lost artifact.
Then nervousness hits. “Power?” I whisper only loud enough for Garvan and Oziel to hear. “I have no power of my own.”
“That is debatable,” Oziel says. “But you will use my shadows. They are as much yours as they are mine now.”
“Use your shadows, but how?”
Instead of answering, Oziel rests his hand on the small of my back and guides me away from Garvan, steering me toward the center of the room, toward the pixie. Bound and furious, the creature spits insults in our direction, his voice sharp with defiance.
As we pass, the guards lower their heads in deference. I hesitate, unsure if I’m expected to acknowledge them, but Oziel doesn’t spare them a glance. Taking his lead, I keep my focus ahead, my steps steady despite the weight of watching eyes.
We move until we are standing directly in front of the pixie. The air is ripe with his stench, and I switch to breathing through my mouth to spare my senses.
Oziel stands behind me, his hands lingering on my hips. When he speaks, his hot breath tickles my neck. “Call upon the shadows,” he murmurs.
“How? I don’t know?—”
“Yes, you do,” he interrupts. “Close your eyes.” He waits until I obey. “Think of wrapping this man in darkness. Shrouding him in nightmares. Think of the terror and pain his family felt. Make him feel the same level of fear and pain they did. Hold the necklace tightly, Kitten. You can do this.”
I do as Oziel says. With my eyes closed, I think of the dark shadows that always linger wherever Oziel goes. I imagine those same shadows wrapping tightly around the pixie, suffocating him with his worst nightmares. Forcing him to relive the pain he caused his family, only worse. I think of the children he stole from this world, andthe woman who had to watch her babies die. I do it for them, allowing my anger to fuel the shadows. It doesn’t matter that I never met them; their pain is now my pain.
Muffled screams draw me out of my trance. My eyes pop open, taking a moment to adjust before I see it. A blanket of shadows obscures the creature. Blood-curdling screams and his begging are the only indicators the pixie is still among us. When I squeeze the necklace harder, the cries only grow louder. Then something is dangled in front of me. A dagger.
