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Chapter 13
The carriage Sylas had brought with him to Mrak’s palace was hardly a nice one. Nor was it a smooth ride over the craggy red landscape of Kithonia. Although it barely had room for two to sit on the bench inside, I tried my best to lean away from Sylas. But his large form met mine, my hold on my shadow demon form barely tenable with the anger coursing through my veins.
All of those shadow demons were dead. And for what? For Sylas to prove a point?
The only thing Sylas had proved was that he really was more cruel than I’d ever heard rumors of Mrak to be.
“Tell me,” Sylas started, his voice deep. It burrowed through my skin and settled in my bones as if he’d reached into my body to touch them. I shivered. “What was it like being human?”
My brow furrowed. His question had been entirely unexpected. I turned to him and met his six-eyed gaze with incredulity. “Excuse me?”
Sylas shrugged as if this were the most nonchalant conversation of his life and not him kidnapping his brother’s would-be queen after a conflict. “You’ve only recently become one of us. I can smell the newness of your shadow demon skin. What was it like being a fragile little human?”
I rolled my tongue between my molars as I considered Sylas. Here in this carriage, away from the enraptured and terrified gaze of he and Mrak’s people, Sylas was acting as though this were a normal conversation—and he a normal individual.
Reality couldn’t have been further from the truth.
“Three hours ago you murdered several people in front of a group of their fellow refugees,” I spat, unafraid of this demon. As far as I was concerned, he needed me at this point, so I, for the moment, was invaluable to him. Sylas needed me to control Mrak and his mounting rebellion. And gods dammit, I was going to use that fact to my advantage. “Now you want to sit here and talk to me like we’refriends?”
Sylas regarded me so casually, my mind simply couldn’t comprehend the whiplash it received from comparingthatlook to what had transpired three hours ago. My hands were still stained with blood.
“Aisling, dear, soon we’ll be much more than friends.”
“Over my dead body,” I spat.
Sylas shrugged. “If you wish. I know several mages capable of bringing you back after. Thiswaspart of the deal, was it not?” He studied me closely. “I find you humans incapable of making decisions sometimes.”
I inhaled deeply. Sylas was right. I’d offered myself up in specific ways to keep the violence from continuing. But that didn’t mean I was ready and wanting to jump right into marriage and whatever other sick thing Sylas had in mind.
I had a plan, one that required just enough time and a forge to work.
“It was part of the deal, yes,” I relented and glanced back out the carriage window. I couldn’t stand the sight of Sylas. He was every bit as cruel and violent as Mrak and Karn had warned. But there were also very identifiably human parts to him as well. Things that humans and shadow demons had in common, and a flippant attitude seemed to be one of them.
“Humanity is boring,” I finally answered. “It’s short-lived, often traumatic, and boring.” Amongst other things, like fragile and weak. I’d been as strong as anyone could be for so long that sometimes I’d forgotten the Aisling that Lazarus had first met. But she’d had to change quickly and become something else.
Eventually, she’d had to become a shadow demon to survive.
“And what possessed you to make the leap to one of our kind?” Sylas asked. “I’ve seen it forced on others, but it’s been a long while since someone willingly made the transformation.”
Love, I wanted to answer because it was the truth. But I knew Sylas would twist that, and I didn’t have the energy to keep talking about Mrak with him.Fearwas another answer, but I didn’t want to admit that either.
Dig deeper for other truths. And there were so many.
“Power,” I answered.
Sylas nodded slowly. “Ironic, since that’s what made my brother claim you in a pact. He was desperate enough to use ahumanfor his agenda.” Sylas made it sound like the lowest action in Kithonia a king could have taken.
“Mrak didn’t use me,” I argued. Except he had. I’d known that. Mrak using me had been the source of many of our arguments recently. Our relationship had started that way and had grown into something much more substantial. Another truth then instead. “We both used each other.”
“So it would seem.” Sylas’s gaze traveled the length of my body, sending an uncomfortable shiver down my spine. “I’m happy to have won this prize out of his misdeeds.”
“You’ll never win,” I spat. “I may have gone with you. I may be stuck with you. But if you win now, it’s because of me helping you get there.”
Sylas reached over and gently caressed my cheek with the back of his hand. “We will see. Do you know I can sense your true form even when you’re dressed as this… human? You’d do well to adopt this life, Aisling. Revenge and anger, even suffering, suit you. You radiate all three.”
I clamped my mouth shut and focused harder on the crimson horizon. Sylas could fuck off. I wouldn’t speak to him again. There was nothing left for us to say.
As if reading my mind, Sylas withdrew his hand and clasped both in his lap before him. “No matter, dear Aisling. You’ll be mine soon enough, and we will rule all of Kithonia. Your new pact will be with me.”
As if on cue, the carriage slowed. Only when I turned to glare at Sylas did I see the rising red-brick towers decorated in gold runes, the beautiful multi-layered gardens and courtyards dotted with gold trees, and the large group of shadow demons waiting to welcome their Thief King home.
We were already at the capital of Kithonia.
And the castle that’d become my new prison.
