Promised To The Shadow King (Captive 0f Shadows Book 1)

by Bailey Dark

I leave her in the red, velvet armchair, and slam the door behind me. I don’t bother locking her in, there’s nowhere else for the girl to go. I magic myself to the mortal kingdom of Ryrn, to the throne room I stood in less than an hour before. The room is filled with opulence and elegance. The floor is checkered marble, gilded gold columns support the high, arched ceiling. It’s a room I’ve been in only twice before. Once to secure a promise, and once more to fulfill it.

  Her father isn’t in here, but I’m not surprised. It’s night now, and the palace is quiet. I slink through the halls, hardly making a sound. I stretch out my magic in search of Alban and finally find him in his study. He starts when I throw the door open and saunter through. I stuff my hands in my pockets and toss him a wicked grin. Alban rises, putting on an angry grimace even though I can sense his fear. He knows exactly why I’m here.

  “Kane,” Alban says sternly, as if I’m a child. “What is the meaning of this intrusion?”

  “I have a better question: did you truly think I wouldn’t notice you violated our agreement?” I keep my voice dangerously low.

  His jowls shake. “I have done no such thing.”

  "No? Then explain how your youngest daughter came to be in my bedchambers," I demand.

  He flinches at the mention of my chambers, likely imagining the worst. “Our agreement was for a daughter –”

  “Your eldest daughter,” I hiss.

  “What does it matter?” He snaps. “You don’t know any of them. What is one in comparison to the other?”

  I clench my hands into fists at my side. Of course, the fool has no idea. “It matters because it’s what we agreed.”

  “Have you said the words? Made the vows?” Alban asks.

  My lips twist into a furious scowl. “They’re meaningless.”

  “They are not,” he says insistently. “According to the old ways, you are bound to Briar now for at least the three months before your wedding.”

  “Damn you, Alban,” I say through gritted teeth. He’s right. The old traditions are absolute, as are my vows. He crosses his arms, looking smug. “You’re a fool, Alban.”

  “It seems to me that you are,” he quips, taking a seat.

  I grin wickedly, cold, calculated anger cooling me. “Oh, poor, mortal creature. You think you’re clever, playing with the Gods? I promise you this, I will end you. I will fill you with such guilt and horror that you won’t be able to even look yourself in the eye; much less your daughters’. I will break Briar. I will rend her spirit and shred it into fine threads. And then I will rebuild her, shape her into a creature of irrevocable sorrow. And it will be because of you,” I murmur. The words coil together, forming a vow only I can rescind.

  “You–” Alban sputters, half-rising.

  I turn away, pushing back into the hall. A tall woman with brunette hair like her father stands in the hall, looking shocked. I leer at her, studying her willowy figure. I glance over my shoulder towards Alban, still at a loss for words. “I should thank you, Briar’s prettier than her by half,” I say, grinning.

  Rose gapes at me, uttering a shocked gasp. I give her a wink before calling on my magic to carry me back to my own realm. The world tips upside down for an instant before righting itself. I stand still, shoulders heaving. Anger coils in my chest like a heavy lead. There's a reason I limit my dealings with mortals. This incident with Alban, in particular, has left a vile taste in my mouth. I saved his wife, I seethe. I saved her and this is how he repays my gift to him. I curl my lip disgustedly at the door leading to my room where Briar is waiting. I'll certainly have my revenge, and this will be the last time I take pity on mortal fools.

  Chapter 3

  Briar

  I tiptoe through the halls of Kane’s castle, unsure of myself. There’s an odd scent throughout the entire castle, like the heavy scent of roses mingled with something else. I’m starting to wonder if the entire Underworld smells like it. I glance out an arched window as I make my way towards the dining hall. Outside, the Underworld is in perpetual sunset until the sun finally disappears beyond the horizon. The sky is a wash of fiery oranges and reds, with black clouds swept across it.

  From what I’ve seen of the Underworld from here, there’s a city surrounding the castle, just outside its walls. How a realm of spirits and the dead can be populated I don’t understand. I turn my gaze back down the hall, growing more nervous by the minute. The floors are dark wood, almost black, and red wallpaper decorates the walls. It’s all very morbid. So different from the light and airy palace back home.

  My hearts twists painfully in my chest at the thought of home. I’ve been here a single night and I’m already homesick. Father would be disappointed. I catch sight of a gargoyle sculpture in a niche and bite back a yelp. As if this place wasn’t frightening enough. I square my shoulders, picturing my family’s face in my mind, and try to be brave. It’s difficult though, when I’ve been wandering the castle for almost half an hour in search of the dining hall.

  Kane requested me to join him, saying he would love to have me for dinner. I’m still not sure if I’m on the menu. His dark, endless eyes flash through my mind, filled with hunger and a spark of fire I’ve never seen in a man before. A pleasant shiver slips up and down my spine and I bite my lip. It takes a pinch to my arm to stop myself from closing my eyes and falling back into the memory of last night when I first saw my future husband.

  I sigh, growing frustrated at yet another wrong turn. This castle is so massive I need a map or at least directions to navigate it. It’s nothing like the palace at home. Where my home was golden and bright, Kane’s is filled with brooding reds and dark wood. I pause to inspect a detailed stained-glass window depicting the rise of the Simeons from the Underworld. Suddenly, I feel a breath of wind brush the back of my neck. I whirl around, eyes wide, and clutch at the window frame.

  A man stands in front of me, but I’m not sure man is the right word. His hair is black and falls loosely around his shoulders. From beneath it, I spot the tips of his ear poking through, pointed and sharp. His eyes are a vibrant pale blue, like ice, and are locked on me hungrily. But it’s his wings that catch my attention. Tucked neatly behind his back, it’s easy to miss them, except for the glossy black feathers shimmering in the light. He’s as handsome as Kane but in a more wicked way.

  I shrink back instinctively against the window as he studies me. I breathe shallowly, trying to move as little as possible, as if that will keep him from pouncing on me. His eyes trail from my face down my neck and then follows the line of flesh from my collarbone to my navel. I swallow thickly, wishing there had been a more modest gown in my wardrobe. The wine-red gown drapes my figure, clinging to my curves like a second skin.

  “Hello Little Pet,” he murmurs. His voice is silky smooth and cold. It sends another shiver down my spine. “Lost?”

  I bite my tongue, drawing blood and his pupils widen. I lick my lips nervously. “The King is expecting me,” I say, hinting that my absence will be noticed.

  “I’m sure he is,” the man says, cocking his head. “Perhaps I can guide you to him, Little Pet.”

  “I’ll be fine.” The words spill from my mouth faster than I intended.

  A smile splits his lips and I imagine I see pointed fangs. He holds out a hand and I notice pointed fingernails that could be claws. “I’m Willem, his Second. Allow me to escort you to the dining hall before you keep Kane waiting.”

  My brows raise in surprise. I don’t take his hand, but I push away from the wall and nod. “I’m Briar.”

  “I know.” His smile broadens.

  He turns back the way I came, and I follow him, holding my skirt so it won’t tangle in my ankles. From behind him, I can see his lovely wings more clearly. The feathers are large and shining, ruffling as he walks. At the tips of his wings, there are bony protrusions arcing in the air. I have to resist the urge to reach out and brush my fingers over them. As if he can sense my desires, he glances at me over his shoulder with a smirk.

&nbs
p; “Have you ever seen a Reaper before?” He asks, cocking a brow.

  “No.” I shake my head. “I’m sorry for staring.”

  “If a lovely woman can’t take her eyes from me, who am I to complain?” He purrs, eyes flashing.

  A blush creeps up my neck and along my cheeks, and I know by the glint of his teeth he's noticed. He pushes into a door I passed earlier and holds it open for me. Willem bows mockingly as I enter. My eyes skim over his sleek tunic and trousers, perfectly fitted to accentuate his lean figure. The door closes with an echoing thud and I take in the dining hall. It’s a long chamber, with a fireplace on opposite walls, already blazing. The room is hot, and I feel sweat already pricking at my skin. A grand table fills most of the space, with dark and glossy wood. The chairs are red velvet and look plush and comfortable.

  I run my hand over the back of the nearest chair, enjoying the smooth softness of the fabric. The room is luxurious in the darkest, gloomiest way. I feel Willem looming behind me, and I turn to face him. Something warns me not to turn my back to him for a second. His eyes take me in, an amused look on his face. He crosses his arms and leans back against a smartly detailed column.

  “Where’s Kane?” I ask. The room is empty besides Willem and I, and dark enough it feels too intimate.

  “He’ll be here soon,” Willem says.

  I walk casually around the table, trying to put distance between the two of us. Willem’s eyes follow me, as if he knows what I’m up to. “Perhaps I should wait outside for him,” I suggest, watching him through my lashes.

  Willem is beside me before I can blink and I gasp, startled. “Why, Little Pet? Do I frighten you?” His voice is low, almost like a snarl, but it sends heat washing through me.

  I stumble backward. "Is this appropriate?" I ask, voice trembling.

  “Does it matter?” His fingers trace my jaw, claws scraping my flesh. He leans close and I’m frozen by the depths of his gaze. He grins, gaze dropping to my lips. I inhale shakily as he lowers his head to mine.

  “Enough, Willem.” Kane’s voice booms over us, shattering the tension between us.

  Willem pulls away, amusement flashing in his pale eyes. “Nice of you to show up, Kane,” he says.

  I pull out of his reach, hands trembling, and move closer to Kane’s voice. I can feel his powerful presence behind me. I stumble into a chair and halt, trying to collect myself. A wave of embarrassment hits me as Willem eyes me. I wonder if he knew Kane would arrive in time to see the moment between us.

  “King Kane,” I murmur, trying to hold my voice even. “I do apologize.”

  "Don't bother," he says, pulling out the chair at the head of the table. He eyes Willem, black gaze flashing. "I'm quite sure it had nothing to do with you."

  “Well I –” I stutter. My fingers dig into the velvet of the chair as Kane slips into his seat. He isn’t even going to bother pulling out my chair? I feel a flash of something like anger, mingled with confusion, as he waves a lazy hand and servants pour into the room with trays of food balanced expertly.

  “Enjoy your meal, Little Pet,” Willem purrs as he slinks past. He disappears through the door, moving like a shadow.

  I gape after him and then stare dumbly at Kane. The servants pour him a glass of deep red wine and he takes a long drink. Suddenly, he lifts a hand and flicks it in my direction. The chair to his right jolts backward, angled invitingly towards me. I inhale sharply, surprise pulling my brows upwards. I knew the Dark King had magic, but beyond his magical travel, this is the first I’m witnessing it. I sit hesitantly, half expecting the chair to disintegrate once I touch it. But it stays solid, and with another flick of his wrist, smoothly pushes into the table.

  A servant appears beside me and places a platter in front of me. He lifts the silver lid to reveal blue cheese and pear tartlets. They smell delectable and I inhale deeply. The first course looks finer than anything our chefs ever prepared at home. I lift my fork and knife to cut into one, revealing the creamy interior. Before I take a bite, I hesitate, thinking of the old rumors that eating in the Underworld traps you there forever. I push the tartlet into my mouth. It doesn’t matter anyway, I’m already here.

  I feel Kane’s eyes on me, appraising me. They drift over my gown, down my neckline, and then back over my sharp collarbone. It feels predatory, this gaze, and dangerously wicked. I feel goosebumps pocking over my skin, every inch of me alive. When I work up the courage to meet his gaze my throat constricts tightly.

  Kane is handsome in the same way Willem was handsome, but Willem was more savage in his beauty. Kane is all fine lines and elegance. His jaw is sharp and lean, his nose straight, and his lips are full and tempting. I see his Adam’s apple bob with each swallow and it makes my core thrum pleasantly. His eyes are dark and endless, like a void of shadows. They pull me in like they have a gravity of their own. His black hair is swept away from his forehead, cut precisely and trimmed short except for the flair on top. He smirks while I gawk at him and my heart skips out of rhythm.

  “Do you find everything to your satisfaction?” He asks, cocking a brow.

  I blush. “It’s delicious.”

  He leans forward, propping his chin in his hand, still smiling at me as if he knows something I don’t. “Tell me, what did you think of Willem?”

  “I have never met a Reaper before, it was interesting,” I say, keeping my answer vague. I can feel his feline curiosity and I know he wants more from me.

  “What was more interesting; your attraction to him, or his lips on yours?” Kane speaks casually, but I can see his eyes glinting with fire and I know this isn’t a game.

  I swallow hard, breathing shallowly as fear slips over me like a sudden downpour of rain. “I don’t know what you mean, I didn’t consider such things. And he never touched me,” I finally say, voice lilting with anxiety.

  Kane rises smoothly, gracefully, and slips around the table towards me. My chest tightens until I can hardly breathe, and I shrink back against my chair instinctively. He pauses beside me, bending low so he looms over me. “I can smell the lies on your breath,” he growls.

  “Kane,” I whimper, chest heaving.

  His eyes drop to my cleavage and another snarl rips from his throat. “Beg,” he says, his voice deep, like a rumble in his chest. “Beg for my forgiveness—for another chance.”

  “Please,” I say softly, disgust and excitement rushing through me as his fierce eyes drink me in. His lips curl into a cruel, intoxicating smile at the simple word and I feel my core throb. I bite my lip against it, almost drawing blood. His smile broadens, as if he can sense my arousal. I look up at him through my thick lashes, lips pinched with fear. “Please, it won’t happen again.”

  Kane lowers his head and I stiffen. He drops his lips beside my ear, so close I can feel them brush against the ridge of my ear. I shiver as his breath whispers over me like a lover’s kiss. “You’re right,” he purrs. “It won’t.”

  When he pulls away and slips back to his seat, I release a long breath I didn’t know I had been holding. My knuckles are white as I grip the armrests of my chair, trying to wrestle back control of myself. His glittering black eyes flick towards me, filled with amusement. My hand trembles as I reach for my wine and take a long drag, emptying the glass. Smoothly, Kane pours me another before drinking directly from the bottle. His throat bobs and I feel a flash of desire to trail my fingers over his corded neck.

  The main course arrives, shattering the tension between us. I pick at the braised pork, so well-cooked it melts in my mouth. But even the taste of it can’t drive away the fear and anticipation I feel crackling between us. Kane lounges back in his chair, popping a piece of pork in his mouth.

  “So,” he drawls. “Are you satisfied with your new home? Or are you perhaps in need of anything I can provide?” He asks, leering.

  “Your castle is most pleasing. And there is nothing I need,” I say, lifting my eyes to meet his in the hopes that I can grow accustomed to the otherworldliness of his gaze.<
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  “That’s good to hear.” Kane nods. “I spoke with your father yesterday.”

  My heart stops in my chest for an instant and I try to school my face to hide my surprise and anxiety. Surely, he couldn’t have gone to see him for why I think he must have. “Oh?” I lift my glass to my lips and cock a brow.

  “You’ll be happy to know that he and your sisters are coping well with your absence.” Kane’s lips tug upwards in a cruel smile. “You might even say it was hardly noticed.”

  “Ah,” I say softly, closing my eyes for a moment to let the sting of his words sink in. When I open them again, he’s watching me hungrily, like he wants to feed off my pain. “That is good to hear. I would hate for them to suffer.”

  He pauses, looking at me curiously. “Well aren’t you kind?”

  “Tell me, Kane, about yourself. Do you have any siblings, perhaps?” I ask, trying to change the subject, twist it on its head and save myself from his cruel probing.

  “A brother,” he says, sounding bored again.

  I tuck this tidbit of information away and nod. “I see, what’s his name?”

  “Must we discuss my foolish brother?” Kane snaps, temper flaring.

  I balk but straighten my spine stubbornly. “Of course not. We could talk about many other things. I’m simply curious about the man who is to be my husband.”

  “Or are you simply curious why I chose you of all the women in the mortal realm?” Kane leans forward. “Or maybe you want to know my weaknesses to exploit them? I should expect nothing less of a woman meant to be my bride. In fact, I would be disappointed otherwise. Tell me, Briar, are you going to disappoint me?”

  “You’re mocking me,” I say softly, dropping my fork with a clatter. “And I have lost my appetite.”

  I rise before he can stop me and rush from the room. Kane is cruel. Kane isn’t the man I expected, no, he’s exactly what I knew I should expect. Stories and legends of the King of the Underworld should have prepared me for this. But in my stupid, childish fantasies, I saw him as a kind, misunderstood man that I could love. How stupid I am. I half-run down the halls towards my room, fear and hurt taking turns calling my adrenaline to me.