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Rune’s fangs lengthened as a sharp pain lanced his mind. A trigger he wove into his realm, announcing anyone who phased in, including Shadowmen. His gaze lifted as his temper edged for violence.
His front door crashed open and angry footsteps stalked toward his study. Rune scented her and exhaled, returning his attention to Saith’s journal.
“What did you do to her?”
Rune spared a momentary glance at his uninvited guest before returning to his research. “Lovely to see you, Morgan.”
Lyssa’s daughter took it the hardest when he relinquished his position as her mother’s consort. Rune ignored her, and carefully turned the page. The tome was detailed, providing a wealth of knowledge on Saith’s creations. Processes. But he was no closer to finding a line that tied to the Darkness.
Morgan’s deep red hair swayed as she stalked to Rune’s desk, resting her palms on it. She leaned forward sharply, snapping with her usual charm, “Mother won’t drink. What did you do?”
Rune didn’t react, didn’t look up at her. Partially because the harpy was bothersome. But more so because she inherited features from Sadira. The queen entombed in his father’s crystalline palace.
“I have not seen Lyssa in some weeks now. Perhaps you should speak with your mother instead of insisting on interrogating me,” he said, before carefully turning the page as he continued reading.
Morgan shrieked, her power scattering everything on his desk.
Rune’s hard gaze lifted. “You are in my realm. My home, child. I grow tired of your tantrums. Leave or I will remove you.” The only reason Morgan still walked among the living was because she was Lyssa’s child.
Morgan shoved his desk, surging it toward him.
Rune caught the desk, stopping its momentum.
The Ra’Voshnik rose in a heated fury needing violence to ease its pained heart. Rune held the creature far beneath the surface.Calm yourself, maiming her will upset Faye, Rune grated.
The Ra’Voshnik didn’t put up a fight, drifting back to the depths of his mind. Silent.
Morgan narrowed her eyes, holding Rune’s gaze as she phased.
He propped his elbow on the desk and rested his forehead against his fingertips. Would Faye agree to a single death if he begged?
He stood, retrieving Saith’s tome. He should be grateful Morgan didn’t recognize her grandfather’s journal. If Morgan collected it even Gabriel wouldn’t be able to procure it for him a second time.
Ignoring the rest of the papers and books littering the ground, Rune sat at his desk opening the tome. The pages fell open to the creation of Shadowmen. The stone slabs remained outside his keep. Rune knew the story. Saith took nine Artithian women, the tenth was meant to be his general. His father Julian.
Rune read the entry. Saith went into great detail. How he used the Darkness to fashion full grown men who ripped out of the bodies of these women. None of them survived Saith’s dark magic.
Rune found a small notation near his father’s name. Saith’s flourished, masculine script read like a Familiar riddle.
I will turn this thorn in my side into a weapon I can wield. I’ve captured the Elysian Queen.
Elysian Queen? The name of her court perhaps. Sadi’s words circled him. Like calls to like. Was Faye her descendant?
Rune rose, gazing out at the ever twilight sky. Pages crinkled under his shoes as he strolled to the window. His gaze lowered to the stone slabs arranged in a circle just outside the walls of his keep.
Realization struck him.
Like calls to like.
He’d mistakenly thought Sadi meant for him to find a link between himself and Faye.
Rune phased to his altar. The stone slab his father was created on. The stone he was born on.
Rune opened his wrist letting his blood flow, collecting on the stone.
“Like calls to like,” Rune whispered and began his work.
Chapter seventy-three
