Page 126 of Black Sea

“Or even just to fight him!” Araton added, shocked.

I drew a gasping breath. Slowly, feeling the tears streaking down my cheeks, I turned around. “Because he’s my mate,” I declared in a whisper.

My brother recoiled with a disgusted sound.

“Gods almighty . . .” the Queen of the Witches gasped in horror as her companions got closer to her, dread painted on their faces.

“May the Spirits protect us,” Father said quietly in Elvish, his expression filled with dismay.

Only after a few moments did I realize that their reaction wasn’t about what I had just revealed. Each of them was staring at my face.

Why? What was wrong with it?

Scared, I tried to take a small step forward to ask it out loud.

Queen Aloiv spread her arms to move the two women behind herself in a protective gesture.

My father instinctively backed away next to Araton.

The soldiers gathered even closer around the Crystal.

They were all afraid of me, I understood.

I had to know why. I had to see myself.

So, moving sideways like an intimidated animal under their shocked, watchful gazes, I left the temple and dashed toward the palace.

72

Mornon

At the same time as the elf nearly knocked down her sitting room door, I swung open the grand bronze doors of the throne room in Leukós’ royal palace with my mind. As she headed to her bedroom, I advanced along the wide central nave, my dark silhouette sharply contrasting with the gray-veined white marble floor, the large fluted white columns, and the tall white sandstone walls.

A huddle of burly middle-aged men, draped in light fabrics, with cloaks placed over one shoulder and trailing to their sides, was gathered at the foot of the raised throne.

Like all the advisors I had managed over the centuries while ruling the Kingdom of Men, constantly shifting my appearance, they did nothing but yell at each other—especially in my absence, from what I saw.

Humans were such idiots, so insignificant, that I had long since decided to use them as simple food for my demons. I would keep only a few alive so they could breed, and my little ones would always have a succulent meal on hand.

“Oh! Your Majesty!” the stocky of the group exclaimed when, having told his peers to go suck an egg and having departed from the heated argument, he noticed my presence. “The king! The king is here!”

The others suddenly turned toward me, shutting up in shock.

“Your Majesty, thank the gods, you are unharmed!” continued the man, his hair and beard white like the entire city. “I want you to know, Sire, that I was intent on sending what’s left of our army to save you from those murderous elves as soon as we learned they were holding you prisoner,” he stammered in haste, getting on my nerves somewhat. “But the rest of the council strongly opposed it!”

“I’ve had enough of this farce,” I said to myself as I moved through the other humans, who promptly stepped aside with deep bows to clear my path to the throne.

“Farce, Sire?” the man countered as an equally confused mutter rose from his cronies. “What do you mean?”

This.

Climbing the first step of the throne, I twirled my wrist with an elegant movement of my black fingers.

With a growing rumble and a slight earthquake, the hall’s appearance started transforming. Black onyx tiles replaced the original floor slabs. Sandstone was swapped out for obsidian. The columns became smooth black marble. The flat ceiling curved into several vaults. The white marble throne turned opaque onyx, with shiny veins, assuming a more sinister, menacing form.

Stretching one corner of my lips, I sat on the cold seat and enjoyed the final adjustments of the fusion with the throne room of my fortress in the burned lands to the north.

Terrified beyond measure, huddled together to keep their balance, the men stared at me as if I were the embodiment of death, coming to claim their lives.