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Chapter 2
“This palace has not been used in decades,” Mrak informed me as we passed through one massive corridor after another.
The larger-than-life spaces made for shadow demons of Mrak’s size—rather than humans like me—had long ago been laid with red bricks in most places and in others seemingly carved directly from stone the same shades of crimson permeating every surface and sight in Kithonia thus far. Tapestries and paintings, though damaged over time, hung from the walls, decorating a structure that might otherwise have been utilitarian. The absolute lavishness of Cassius’s feeder community in comparison to at least this one building in this land of shadow demons was stark.
I didn’t know what I’d been expecting, only that while I’d hoped to join Mrak in Kithonia, I hadn’t been positive it would actually happen.
Now I walked the halls of this abandoned palace alongside my monster. My love.
“Was it abandoned before you were exiled?” I asked.
Mrak nodded, his head an entire foot and a half above mine. I looked up at him as we walked, as entranced by his physical presence finally alongside mine as I was with being here in a whole new world. “Yes, my family has not used this palace in generations. To be honest, I half-expected Sylas to be using it as a second base of operations. But Karn, my adviser, found it empty after my exile and took it over.”
My brow furrowed. “Wouldn’t that make this an ideal place for any opposition to grow? Even if your brother assumed you’d never return, you’d think he’d want to keep tabs on this place.”
Mrak made a noise deep in his throat—some sort of agreement—and yet again, hearing the precise location of any sound he made sent shivers down my spine. I was used to Mrak being around me, talking almost through me most of the time. Having him here,actuallywith me, was indescribable.
I reached for his hand now, wanting to never stop feeling how his long fingers wrapped around mine, dwarfing my hand in his.
“It’s been a worry,” Mrak said with just enough tightness in his tone that it gave away the sentiment of what he was about to say before he spoke. Maybe that was a consequence of spending so much time with someone you couldn’t see, only hear. Eventually, you learned the way their voice morphed around emotions, how even the slightest tone shift could mean multitudes. “Karn has assured me his patrols will warn us of any impendingvisitsfrom my brother should one possibly happen. But I am not hiding, not anymore.”
Mrak stopped walking, so I did, too. He turned to me and lifted the back of my hand to his lips. “I’ve always intended to return to Kithonia to retake my throne. I wasn’t always well-loved, but I’m no tyrant like my brother. Sylas may have an army and he may have some of our people’s trust, but I do have one thing he does not.”
I swallowed hard. Mrak didn’t have to say it for me to understand. “I’m not one of you, though.”
His eyes flashed and a seriousness overtook his gaze that shoved fear and question aside. “Human or shadow demon, you are mine. You are my queen. And there are ways to make you one of us, should you desire that. But what’s important right now is you are introduced to Karn and others. That you are welcomed.”
“You sound confident I will be.” I wasn’t so sure. Not only was I not from Kithonia, I was ahuman. In this world, I was a fragile, very mortal creature and, regardless of what Mrak might or might not have planned for us, I may not ever fit in here. Not like this.
My gaze roamed the massive walls around me, coming to a rest on the high ceiling above adorned in an elaborate fresco detailing a Kithonian horizon.
Mrak nearly growled as he set off again, a determined weight in his step. Watching him move—seeing him—was not getting old. “They will and they must. I will have no other queen.”
Queen. There was a title I never thought I’d have, especially not after spending ten years as a feeder in a vampire community so stark and bleak, I’d even wished to end it all on more than one occasion.
Personally, I didn’t think I was all that special. But Mrak and I had a bond like no other, and I would let nothing stand in the way of it.
Mrak continued along the corridor. I trailed after him, taking in every damaged or weathered fresco and painting along the way. Everything was a hint at shadow demon culture and history, although I couldn’t make much sense of it. Much of the art was human in a way, or human-like, but everything was larger and more abstract, as if the farther away you stood, the clearer the topic or intention of the art became.
There weren’t many other shadow demons around. A few wandered the halls and tried very hard to make it appear like they weren’t interested in my presence. But their curiosities were hard to mask. Although it was clear this palace was no longer quite so abandoned, many of these shadow demons had never seen a human before—nor I so many shadow demons.
Finally, Mrak paused outside a set of double doors made from a dark-red, nearly-black stone with gold inlaid in runes around the edges. Mrak grabbed the handles on both doors and pushed them inward, revealing a spacious room with a domed ceiling hovering easily fifty feet above us. The curved, red stone walls were bare, save for a few floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking a crimson horizon dotted with mountains and clouds. At the center of the room was a round table made from marble and wood, beautiful in its overall simplicity.
One other person filled the space besides Mrak and me—another shadow demon. He stood tall, but not at Mrak’s height, though he carried himself as someone with many years of poise and life. He nodded slowly to Mrak, enough of a bow with his crimson eyes shut that I recognized the deference.
This shadow demon wore a robe fit for a creature his size, but it was as simple as everything in Kithonia that I’d seen so far. Nothing seemed extravagant—not clothes, décor, even the palace itself. I was sure some of that had to do with this particular palace apparently having been abandoned for some time. Even still, the fact was this palace had me constantly looking for riches or finery, expecting lavish interiors and nobles and finding none. It only hit me a few moments later that those werehumanexpectations.
My cheeks flushed with warmth at the realization, and I found myself retreating a step behind Mrak as we entered the large meeting room.
The other shadow demon turned to greet us with wide, long arms that ended in taloned hands. “Mrak, you’ve returned.” He ducked his massive head, also adorned with several sets of crimson-red eyes, and grinned in a way that might have been well-intentioned, but his double rows of pearly white teeth were nothing but menacing. “And your future queen as well.”
I swallowed down my fear. There was no reason to be afraid, and yet I found my body ready to react and run at a moment’s notice anyway. With Mrak, it’d never been like this. Not that I could remember. And sure, maybe that was because our relationship had started with him as a disembodied presence attached my mine. But even when I’d finally seen what his true form looked like—or at least, a version thereof—I hadn’t beenafraid.
But this shadow demon was a stranger regardless of his relationship to Mrak. A stranger whose magic poured over me in a strong aura not unlike a rushing waterfall. The strength of that magic nearly knocked me over.
The shadow demon gave a slight bow—tome, I realized belatedly, as I steeled myself. “It is a blessing to meet you, Aisling. In the short time Mrak has been back in Kithonia, I’ve heard much about you. I am Karn, a trusted adviser of Mrak.”
I glanced to Mrak for confirmation with just enough time to see him swallow the last remains of mistrust from his expression.
