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He propelled himself forward using the element of surprise and the power of his wings. The souls of his aura helped him, preventing him from nearly hitting a nearby tree. His energy left him drunk on power, and he stopped feeling the paralyzing fear, funneling his magic into anger instead.
Why would a guard try to attack him now? What if the fire had been a setup all along? Somehow, something was telling Orion that this was a dangerous opponent, intent on harming him.
He struck the perfectly hidden shadow hard. All of his magic collected into his fist as it connected with a gooey substance that burned his hand.
“Poison!” a soul shouted in his ear, so loud it mimicked his inner thoughts at the burning sensation spreading across his arm. He wanted to yank it back, but he had to weaken the Dark One further.
Inside the dark void of the tree trunk, he grasped at the slippery shape of a neck and heard a distinct gurgling noise. He closed his grip around it and threw the figure across the clearing before the venom could cause him true harm.
A shadow without a true shape collided against a tree that exploded into fragments of pulp, bark, and coal.
Orion heaved, nauseated by the use of his power and the poison of whatever had been in that hole, waiting to strike him. He’d thought it was a royal guard, but he wasn’t so sure anymore.
A black figure rose from the dead ground, almost seven feet tall, with disheveled wings that lacked the splendor of full feathers. His face peered through a crack in his black helmet, revealing skin as pale as flawless alabaster and bright red eyes. Orion went numb as the realization hit.
This wasn’t a normal Dark One. This was the emissary of the Shadow God. Fuck, the bastard did look exactly like Orion.
He was everything Orion had expected, yet different. Taller by at least five inches. Slimmer, too. With long, pointed ears that peeked from his silver hair.
A full fae—not a halfling like himself. This couldn’t be his twin, even though their faces were nearly identical. No wonder Nava had been a trembling mess when she’d exited that portal.
The emissary swiped his purplish tongue over his bloodied lips and reached for the hilt of a sword that protruded from a belt around his waist. The handle was shaped from polished onyx, catching the pale gray light of the darkening sky.
“I wasn’t expecting you…” he croaked as he took in Orion’s fighting stance with wide eyes. The metal of his long sword hissed as it slid from a scabbard made of smoke. “But I’m glad you saved me the trouble of finding you later, princeling.”
That last word was spat out with such hate it gave Orion pause. Why would this emissary be looking for him? So far, he’d only targeted the Beekeepers.
Did he know Orion was Nava’s soulmate?
Vines were wrapped around one of the emissary’s arms, contrasting with the ebony of his armor. The wood appeared to be slowing down his movements.
“Why are you trying to hurt the Beekeepers?” Sweat beaded on Orion’s brow as he sidestepped the emissary. He needed the freedom to escape if necessary.
The ground trembled under his feet. A call from the Beekeepers, a trace of fear, surged through their bond. Was Nava hurt? Had she found Aristaeus before the Zorren? Were they fighting now?
The emissary advanced with the confidence of someone who couldn’t die. His aura swirled around him, black like Orion’s, although it lacked the spirits. Which meant he didn’t possess the power to take souls.
“The Beekeepers have done nothing to me. I’ve naught against them—but I’ll do anything to get my revenge on you.”
What revenge? “I haven’t done a thing to you.”
“Your existence is a reminder of what he did.” The emissary’s eyes narrowed on Orion, shining with hate. “And you look just like him, which makes it easier to get rid of you.”
“You’re mad.”
“You will be dead before the day is over, and your bloodline will be gone soon. Then, and only then, will I be free.” He swung his sword at Orion, and it rippled through space, a force of nature that bent the air.
Orion’s power pushed him back, although he barely dodged the deadly waves that disintegrated the tree beside him. The sword held a devastating kind of magic he’d never seen before, much less on a weapon.
“If you’re trying to kill me because I look like my father, remember, I look like you, too.” Orion took a shaky breath. His power was burning hot, demanding he take a soul, even though this immortal fool had none to be taken. “And if you kill the Beekeepers, you will forsake this land and all its inhabitants.”
“The land is already barren. People are starving, sick, or both.” The emissary laughed, a rough croaking sound. “Your bloodline will only wreak destruction upon this kingdom. I’m merely fixing the problem.”
Orion didn’t think his body could react any more viscerally to the emissary. But now his blood turned to ice—the emissary’s words were far too close to the prophecy Devon had uncovered.
“So you’ll kill the king and me to free yourself from your ties to the god, and then what? You’ll take the throne?”
Surprise washed over the emissary’s features. Perhaps he’d never expected that Orion would find out what he was. “I don’t owe you an explanation, but a monkey could rule better than you.”
