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There were grunts and creaking leather armour all around us, but I swore we were the only people in the world as we gazed adoringly into each other's eyes, souls connecting, merging into one.
At least until X bent over and vomited loudly onto the grass.
"Oh, honey," I murmured, and extricated myself from Ark's possessive arms to rub X's back as he heaved.
"I hate shadow travel," he moaned pitifully. "Never again. Zero stars out of ten."4
He wasn't the only one throwing up. The Company of Murkyr might have been big, horned, scaly, and scary as fuck, but not everyone was immune to travel sickness. Among them, the wraiths stood proud and superior, their noses stuck up in the air. I couldn'tseethe sticks up their tight asses, but I knew they were there.
I carded my fingers through X's short hair, missing the feel of silken lilac strands. As soon as Eidolon was dead, he'd be safe, and he could be himself again.
"How do we get over there?" Taj asked, his arms crossed over his chest. He wasn't in his demon form anymore, and for some reason he'd decided to forego a shirt even though we were all in armour. I let my stare travel over the rise and fall of his abs, his bronze skin taut over impressive muscle.
"What?" I asked when he caught me looking. "You're pretty."
He rolled his eyes, but a flush of pleasure filled his soul. Ha! Even Taj liked being called pretty. IknewI needed to compliment him more.
"There are boats," Joseph said, and for a second I thought he'd gone a little loony. But while I'd been focused on my poor, sick mate, he'd been canvassing our surroundings. And damn, they were some surroundings.
I let out a low whistle, wide eyes taking in the grassy bluff we'd appeared on. It overlooked a dark, desolate river—presumably the river of souls—where wind caused ominous ripples andthingsmoved within the depths. It was bigger than I'd imagined, bigger than the Thames for sure, maybe even twice its width, and a miasma of power curled off its surface like steam on a hot bath.
In the heart of the river, thrusting out of the water like an evil lighthouse, the tower Lou mentioned stood on a high, rocky island made of obsidian and inky grass. I'd never seen black grass before; guess I could tick that off the ol' bucket list.
"When you said tower," I commented to no one in particular, "I was picturing more along the lines of Rapunzel's tower, not the Eye of Sauron."
X snorted. The others gave me blank looks.Thank godmy incubus understood pop culture references; I’d go truly completely mad without him.
"On your command," a wraith with a bulldog face grunted, a clear order tohurry the fuck along."Sir," he tacked on carelessly, his eyes full of barely veiled hate when he looked at Arkan.
Wraiths had mob mentality; when one of them hated someone, they all did. Fucking sheep.5
But Ark was part of the prince heir's circle, and he deservedrespect.As my mate, he did too. He was a member of the royal fucking family, and I was so damn tired of feeling sharp pain behind his ribs.
"One sec," I interrupted Arkan, pulling on a thread of my magic. It rose faster every day, like it fed off my mental instability.6
"I'm not a fan of your tone," I told the wraith, and watched his tanned face turn purple with anger. But he couldn't snap at me; I was un-fucking-touchable as Dev's mate. "Sadly, I need you to transport our warrior buddies back to the castle when we're done here, so I can't kill you."
The bastard laughed, as if I couldn't anyway.
"Luckily,you don't need your junk to use your magic. Or your tongue."
I flicked my wrist, and ribbons of black flame fired into him like arrows. It took less than three seconds. He opened his mouth to scream, but only a deep groan came out.
"Much better," I said brightly, giving all the assembled wraiths a smile. Some of them quickly concealed furious glares, and others had gone pale, but I was surprised to notice over half were giving me impressed, appreciative stares. "Anyone else want to test my patience today?"
"No, ma'am," came the reply from a young wraith man with a long white braid and a face carved from marble. His expression was deadly serious,gravelyserious even, until his eyes glittered. "I like her," he said to—Ark?
Ark sighed. "Of course you do. Well, she's mine; no stealing, Finnick."
"As if he could," I muttered. "Now are we crossing this river and setting a trap, or what?"
"I can't take us down to the boat," Ark said, his lips pursed.
Oh, right.The boats.
I peered over the edge of the bluff, getting as close as I dared, and saw fifty little wooden row boats lined up along the desolate cliff face. They clanged and smacked together, tossed carelessly on the river. A sliver of a dirt path wound in a dizzying route to the bottom, clinging to the bluff.
"I already hate this," I groaned.
