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“I will bash you’re fucking skull in if you don’t back the fuck u–”
“You think you can?”
Rej’thorek is shoved back a few steps. “I fucking know I can.”
“A fight will solve nothing,” I call out over them. Admittedly, I am amused, though I don’t want Natalie here for it. “Only I have the answers you want, and no one is calling you a liar, Rej’thorek. I’m saying that there might be more behind the memory than was available to you. Your father probably didn’t put the whole truth in it in case someone was to stumble across it.”
“What are you saying?” Rej’thorek is heaving, glaring at Volikan, but thankfully, they keep a mutual distance between them.
“I’m saying that the power it would take to move this amount of demons through a portal and create an unknown island and power would be so much that it would have killed him upon creation. We all know the Demon King is immensely strong. That’s how we have stayed afloat. But there is a difference between his power, and something impossible.”
“Who is strong enough?” Anastasia’s eyes are locked on me. “You think it was the gods?”
I nod. “The gods would be able to craft such an event, yet, and I believe there is one in particular that has had his hand in this. One that has been working closely with the King.”
Giroth, to my shock, scoffs. I didn’t think the kennel master had any interest outside his precious hounds. “The gods would smite anyone who dared to call upon them. We all know this. It’s just not possible that one of the Seven have been intervening for this long.”
Before I can say anything more, though, Cora cuts in. “I don’t get why this has to be an argument. You haven’t been on the island that long, to my understanding. Don’t you remember what it was like when you came here?”
The room falls silent, her face colored by the confusion, and I feel vindicated. I, too, realized not too long ago that my earliest memories are on this island and that anything before that is fuzzy at best. I am old enough to have lived more than majority of my life off this island, but I can’t remember what that must have been.
I watch it hit each demon around the room. They can’t remember, either. It’s not something that I think most realize since we don’t think back to it, but when you try to focus, nothing comes forth. It was a blur, and then we were here.
“Even if the gods brought us here…” Rej’thorek mutters, still seemingly struggling with the concept. “What does it have to do with the tremors?”
“That I don’t know.” I shrug, looking down at my son. “I do know that magic is unstable, though, and I have a feeling that it won’t last much longer.”
I can feel it weakening, pushing and pulling apart in a way that will support nothing. It should terrify me, but I’ve pushed that thought away. Instead, I’m just observing it until it’s at its breaking point.
Volikan’s eyes go from Alvech to Anastasia. “How are we supposed to protect our families? If the magic is going to give out, where does that leave us?”
Slowly, I lift my eyes. That is the question that has plagued me, the very thing I don’t have the answer for.
“In due time, we demand answers from our King.”
132
BONUS CHAPTER 1
CORA
Sunlight leeches into the room from between the thick curtains as I begin to surface from sleep. I groan, blinking my eyes against the muted brightness. I have no idea how I survived for so long on Protheka without the protection of the electrical storm that covers Galmoleth.
The thought of what the morning on the surface of Protheka must look like right now, blazing with unfettered and unforgiving sunlight, has me cringing away from the light even further and tugging the blankets up over my head.
A low chuckle from the other side of the room startles me, and I shoot up, knocking the back of my head against the headboard. I yelp, my hand flying to the sore spot on my head as my eyes sheepishly meet Giroth’s.
“Good morning, graceful,” He teases, laughter still lacing his voice. Scarlet heat crawls up my neck as I rub the ebbing pain away from my scalp.
“Yeah, yeah,” I mutter, though I can’t fight the smile tugging at my lips. Giroth’s thin black breeches are hung low on his waist, exposing every bit of delicious pale gray skin as he leans against the wall. The morning sunlight casts deep shadows across the hardened planes of his chest, my stomach tightening as my eyes graze over every beautiful line of him.
“If you keep looking at me like that, we’re not going to have any time for your surprise,” Giroth says, his voice husky and dangerously low. I force my eyes away from the expanse of his bare skin, trying to discretely swallow the saliva that’s begun pooling in my mouth.
“Surprise?” I ask, my voice still thick with sleep. Giroth nods, a small smile playing on his lips. I lean down out of bed, reaching for the thin nightgown I carelessly discarded the night before as we’d climbed into bed.
“Don’t,” Giroth says firmly, and my eyes dart back to him. I arch an eyebrow but do as he says, receding back into bed.
“You won’t need it anyway,” he adds. My curiosity is thoroughly piqued, and Giroth’s smile deepens as he walks back toward the door.
