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Can I?It’s the question of the day. I’ve asked myself the same thing about a thousand times. But since that's where my men are, I don’t have a choice. Plan or not, control over my light or not, I’m going in. Releasing Rayne's hand I say, "I don't know, but I have to go."
"Then I have to go."
I almost tell him not to, that he already died once, but I stop myself before the words ever leave my lips. He's my mate. Just like I can't leave my shadow beasts in the Void, he can't let me go there alone, so why waste time by arguing about it? I climb over the tree like I’m some sort of wood sprite and then march toward the Void. The lightning crashes above us, more and more, and I see shards lighting up in all directions. My heart races, and it feels like I'm making the dumbest decision of my life, but I don't stop until I get to the swirling cloud.
Then I look at Rayne. "No matter what happens, I love you."
"I love you too," he says.
And we share a look. A goodbye. It’s so similar to what we saw the warriors do that it scares me. If I don’t do this right now, I might lose my nerve.
So, I dive into the cloud like there’s an abyss behind the darkness, but there isn’t. I land on my chest and the air whooshes out of me. Panic uncurls inside of me as I prepare to be attacked. Instinctually, I move into a crouched position and look around, expecting danger.
But no one so much as looks back at me because the Void is full of beasts and bodies and men.
A second later, Rayne comes in behind me, instantly falling into a crouch beside me. He’s breathing hard. His eyes narrow. His hands curled into fists as if ready for battle. Even though, for this moment, we seem to be safe.
We're partially hidden behind some small boulders. It's enough that we're not like a flashing yellow sign, but we can also see what's going on. And none of it looks good. This place is just as horrifying as before. All darkness. A dark so deep that it seems impossible. And yet, the shadow beasts in their beast form glow like spirits in this world. Even their red eyes glow far more brightly than they did in our world.
Grave trolls carry torches all around the clearing we crouch on the edge of, bringing a brightness to this dark world that's almost blinding. Rot monkeys hide in the branches of blackened trees, their shrieks echoing around us, sending a chill down my spine. Here, we truly are surrounded and out of our element. But at least Rayne and I have an escape at our backs.
My men aren't so lucky.
“My king.” Flame bows to the king.
The king's cloak moves behind him, like there's an unseen breeze, or some kind of evilness that has cursed even the clothes he wears. He inclines his head at Flame. Somehow the gesture being more mocking then respectful, but my eyes are glued to him. He emanates power and darkness in a way that seems impossible. It’s an odd effect considering he’s still partially burned from the light I spewed at him. His body is part glowing embers, part ash, part full-powered darkness. He’s obviously still healing. As I watch him, part of the glowing embers reform as skin.
"Myloyalservant," the king says, almost sneering. "I'm glad all of you have returned home. Returned to where you belong."
Flame bows even lower, and I can see the rapid rise and fall of his chest. The man is terrified.
"Servants, let us give our lost brothers a warm welcome back to the shadow realm!" the king says, spreading his arms out at all the beasts that surround them.
The shadow beasts, the ones in beast form rather than the men standing before him, glow like spirits, red-eyed anger in their faces. And they move in unison, as if controlled by a single thought, closing in more tightly around the small group of men and my mates. Something about the animals makes every hair on my body stand on end. Men, beasts, it doesn't matter, they aren't supposed to act like that. Even when they turn their heads to look at my men, it's in unison.
And I realize that the men in human form are shocked by this. Shocked more than I imagined they would be.
Flame stands taller once more, staring around himself at the beasts. His mouth is wide, his jaw slack. This is a man surprised by what he sees. As his gaze runs over them, it's obvious he’s stunned by the beasts in front of him. It’s as if he’s seen his fate and wants to turn back. He’s going to be a slave and it’s just dawned on him that it’s his own fault.
The faces of the men who came with him are mirrors of his own. Horrified. Intense.
"What's... what's wrong with them?" Flame finally manages. I think he knew they were serving the king. But the difference between the way the beasts behaved in our world verses this shadow world is night and day. Where before they seemed like soldiers, now they seem like puppets.
I wonder if that was why these men were so quick to the throw away their freedom. They didn't truly understand what that meant.
"There's nothing wrong with them. They're simply serving their purpose and serving their king. That's what all of you want too, right?" His words are slick, filled with cruelty. He knows damn well that the men are horrified by what they're seeing, and he's enjoying every second of it.
"None of us want this," Dusk says, drawing himself up taller, even though his hands are bound. His expression says, at least, that he hasn't given up. "In striving for power above all else, you've destroyed our people and our world. You're no king to me."
"Or to me," Phantom murmurs, then he coughs so hard I think he must be coughing up blood.
Onyx stands tall and silent, not that he can say much with his hands bound, but even from where I stand, I can feel his hatred of the king. His desire to rip the man to pieces. The only time he seems to waver from his hatred is when he glances at Phantom. And I know what he's thinking. The same thing I'm thinking.Is Phantom really so severely injured? Or is this part of some plan?
I pray it's a plan. The odds are already stacked against us. Without Phantom, I have no idea how we'll get out of here. How we'll have any chance at escape.
The shadow king steps forward. The ugliness inside of him has manifested in his features. But he was beautiful once. Like his sons. But not today.
He looks at his sons, at Onyx, and takes another step closer as one of his men delivers a black box. The king holds the box to his chest but doesn’t move to open it. “It’s time you bend a knee and shift.” There's no mockery in his voice, just a coldness that runs down my spine.
