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PROLOGUE
Emma
Everything is dark and so fucking cold.
Time is lost here. Each day that passes sharpens me into an indestructible weapon, hardening me from the inside out. I don’t know how long it’s been since I stepped through the portal. Since the final buzz of life that brushed over my skin as I was simultaneously met with ropes of shadows bound around my wrists. Only to watch the portal close in on itself and disappear from existence, signifying a world left behind while I stood shackled in a new prison I’d have to get accustomed to.
I’ve grown used to the dark, as I see myself mirrored in it. A sort of kinship recognized within. As for the cold, it's become a comfort, which is expected when nothing here exudes life or light. It’s nothing like what was lost beyond the portal that day. The feathering heat of a gentle touch, the warmth of tender words brushing over my skin, and the fire of hope for a free life that I thought would blaze for eternity. All of it…gone. A dream that remains out of reach, and a home that is now lost to me.
But this new prison…it speaks to me and the darkness within. Since coming here, countless Fae have been gifted to me to test my powers on, and the thrill of each kill rushes through my blood. Allowing me to feed off the terror that shines back in their gazes.
When called upon, I’m brought down from my tower and greeted with a new set of eyes that have yet to accept death. Each task has varied from male to female, and old to young. And yet, they look at me like I could be their salvation. Unbeknownst to them, my soul holds no tune. No symphony to play them a final song. Because they don’t matter. They are only a means to an end. A showcase of my growth in power for my father. And these tasks are commands to prove that.
The first task, I was told to weave my shadow around a slender female’s neck and snap it.
The second task, I had to fill the male’s veins until they burst from within.
The third was to lift the Fae as high as I could, only to slam him on the stone before my feet.
With each one, the kill becomes something I crave. To watch as my shadows penetrate their body and claim their life as mine. And if they hope they can sway me to spare them, then they are sorely mistaken.
Because I’m their worst fucking nightmare.
PART I
CHAPTER ONE
Emma
The black ice living in my veins thrums violently with power from the Fae on his knees before me. The whisper’s hurried words in my psyche overlap one another in a whirlwind that drones similarly to how someone’s heart might race, or how their skin might tingle with quick breaths. All because of the impending death before me.
But…I feel nothing for him, not even the smallest speck of remorse. My pulse ticks in a steady rhythm. Unperturbed. There’s no ache in the organ beating quietly in my chest or a frantic pounding racing in my ears, knowing he’s slowly dying in this realm as his flesh sinks deeper into his cheekbones. The tone of his skin grows paler by the minute, and his limbs tremble to hold his own weight.
I block the whispers enough to focus as I stare down at the male, showing nothing across my face. Slowly, I tilt my head to the side. Waiting for…something. Knowing deep down the blood on my hands from every kill will never wash away and that it should haunt me. But not even a tinge of regret or burn of pain surfaces as the black pool of my eyes never blinks away from the plea filling his.
What does it matter to him if I kill him now? His heart will stop, and his lungs will cease to fill with air, anyway. His body will continue to suffer the effects of being rejected in Whiro’s true home, Gehendra. A realm that is livable to solely gods and the place I have been for who knows how long. The realm where a Fae’s body can’t handle the atmosphere after a certain period of time.
Time…
No, time does not exist here. There is no light. No way to tell when the day begins or ends. Time simply bleeds together in a disorienting loop, a never-ending fall. Much like the drop off the cliff that lingers a few feet behind the male silently begging me to spare his life. Or how the featherlight specks of ashes hang high in the air. Unmoving. Frozen in the air as if the realm is holding its breath.
The clicking of sharp talons on stone breaks my focus on the Fae and I slowly turn my head towards the creature responsible. My chest starts to rise and fall roughly as frustration heats under my skin. I press my lips together, holding back the volcano of annoyance that wants to burst out of me from the interruption.
“Sire, let me have him. Such a pity to waste perfectly good food by having this one let him waste away before she kills him.” The ghoul’s grated voice causes my jaw to quickly clench right before it spits at my feet. The bluish-grey hue of its skin stretches thinly over its skeletal frame, and its lean muscles twitch when it crouches down like it’s ready to pounce on the Fae in front of me.
I tear my eyes off the ghoul and bring them to my father’s, expecting him to reprimand his infuriating creature. Except he’s not looking at the ghoul. He’s looking at me. Watching. Waiting. As if curious to see how I’ll handle the situation.
I straighten my spine and shift my body to fully face the hideous ghoul. Whiro is testing me once again to make sure this power has completely consumed me and to prove that I’m capable of being as dark and twisted as him. Whether I’m worth being kept alive in this cursed fate.
But I might as well be a ghost with a beating heart. Death would make no difference.
My eyes stay locked on Whiro as he looms behind the creature. His jet-black arms, which look like they are covered in soot, are crossed over his chest. The rest of his skin is a murky grey with dark blood weaving along his body as if a spider of death rooted itself within. He never wears a shirt, just black pants and shoes that are always decorated with the moving art of his shadows.
I don’t waste another moment though as I close my eyes. My own inky veins, crawling under my skin, pulse. Inhaling deeply, I hold my breath and count to three.
One, I let the whispers be free.
Two, my blood begins to vibrate chaotically beneath my skin.
