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

by Bailey Dark

  When I see my door ahead of me, I let out a gasp of relief. And when I lock the door behind me, the tightness in my chest eases. I slide down the door until I’m seated on the floor and my gown is a pool of wine around me. Moonlight filters in from the open windows and glass doors leading to the balcony. The walls in the room are red in the light, but under the moon the room gleams silver and I feel a kernel of peace in my chest.

  I bring my knees up to my chest and tuck them under my chin. Perhaps it's for the best that Kane is unkind to me, that he twists my feelings around his fingers like a thread. It may make it easier to fulfill my promise to my father. I close my eyes, assuring myself that it will be fine. My second night in this kingdom will be harder than my first. Last night, I was eager for Kane’s return, eager to speak to the handsome King who wanted me. But now, I would give almost anything to be back in my bed at home, Sera and Laurel by my side. Even Rose would do.

  As I nod off to sleep on the wooden floor of my room, I wonder vaguely if I’m giving up too soon.

  Chapter 4

  Kane

  I hunch over my desk, reading glasses perched on the end of my nose. Documents written in the tightly packed, tilted style of a Lord of the Underworld are stacked in front of me. I take notes in the margin of items of interest before slipping papers across the desk to another stack. One would think running a realm filled with the stagnant dead would be simple, I sigh irritably. Willem takes notice from his perch by the narrow, gabled windows and I hear him snort derisively.

  Plucking the glasses from my face I glower at him. “Do you have something to say?” I ask, scowling.

  He shrugs, wings moving in time with his shoulders. “I already told you, you should be spending time with that bride of yours—not up here surrounded by these papers.”

  “I’m sure you’d like that,” I snort, putting my glasses back on. “Free reign to fuck up my business.”

  “Oh, I’d have a bit of fun. I’m sure you’d clean it all up later,” he says, smirking.

  I curl my hand into a fist on the table, fighting back the urge to choke him from afar. Willem typically knows just how much he can test my patience, but I’m still furious over the betrayal of the mortal king, and Willem is pushing me too far too soon. My gaze cuts towards him, a silent warning, and he goes still like a deer in a predator’s sights. Slowly, Willem turns back to his own papers, invoices of Reaper activities. I relax my fist, loosing a long breath, and turn to my work.

  …the second under the moon, two corpses were found soul-leeched under the House of Carrion. It was determined that…

  Soul-leeched.

  I swivel in my chair to face Willem, brows knitted together. “Did you know about this?”

  “About what?” He drawls, flipping to a new page.

  “Two of my people were soul-leeched just yesterday, down in the city,” I say, voice laced with anger.

  “Shit,” Willem whispers, ducking his head and slipping off his perch. He leans over the other side of my heavy, ornate desk and pulls the paper towards him. “And they just left you a note? Idiots.”

  My fingers drum over the dark wood of their own accord. “There’s a rogue Nephilim loose in the city,” I murmur. “Perhaps more than one.”

  “More than one? I doubt it. You know how dangerous it is to create them,” Willem says.

  “Not to mention illegal.” I narrow my eyes at the windows over the city. “Let’s go down to the city guard, find out what we can.”

  Willem doesn’t disagree. He straightens and flashes me an animalistic grin. It’s been years since Willem and I were on the hunt for a dangerous creature or violent outcast, and I feel the anticipation like a dose of energy in my veins. Normally, a murder would be left in the hands of the city guards, but a soul-leeching is too serious a crime for me to not get involved. Everyone in this world and the Lands of Light suffer two deaths. The first, the physical death, is the event that sends them into my realm on the wings of my Reapers. But the second, is far more rare, and deeply more serious. A Nephilim can eat a soul, killing one permanently. It’s strictly forbidden and all Nephilims are cataloged in detail. Only a rogue would risk something like this.

  As I’m gathering my papers to shuffle them away, I hear a light knock on the heavy door. I glance up, feeling a flash of irritation at being disturbed. “What is it?” I demand as the door creaks open.

  Ivory, delicate hands curl around the door and I smell her immediately. Her sweet scent, like spring flowers and light rain, fills the room and its tantalizing. Briar pokes her head around the door, her black hair pinned up messily as if she attempted it herself. I follow her gaze as it travels over the cramped office. She takes in the high ceilings with dark wood paneling, the gray walls, covered in stocky bookcases, the arched, thin windows that let only the smallest streams of orange light from outside into my office when the dark, brocade curtains aren’t closed. Finally, her gaze rests on me, black and inky.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt, I was told you would be in your…office,” she hesitates before the last word, as if she’s unsure of what to call the chamber. She cocks a brow. “I didn’t know you wore glasses.”

  I pluck the glasses from my face and fold them slowly, purposefully. Willem steps into the light, making her heart skip a beat and I feel a sharp, burning sensation in my chest. I ignore it. “Good morning, Briar,” Willem purrs. “Sleep well?”

  She shrinks back behind the door an inch. “I did.”

  “Another lie,” I say softly. I look up, meeting her gaze. “You slept fitfully on the floor of your rooms, dreaming of hands tearing you apart.”

  Her eyes widen with surprise and a tendril of fear. She chews over her next words, as if she isn’t sure she’ll let them free or not. I can see her decision in her eyes when they go hard, filled with resolve. “I thought you and I might spend some time together,” she finally says.

  I smile, leaning against my desk and crossing my arms over my chest. Her gaze flits over my figure and I see her throat bob. It only makes my smile widen. Destroying her will be such a pleasure. “I can’t,” I quip. “Other matters need my attention. For example, the chefs want to know if I want pork or chicken for dinner tonight.”

  “I see.” Her face reddens slightly.

  “Run along, Briar,” I say, smiling cruelly. “I’m sure there will be simple activities somewhere in the castle for you to enjoy.”

  “Actually,” Willem cuts in, his vibrant eyes lingering on Briar too long for my liking. “Let me take care of the urgent matters, Kane. Go with Briar, and I’ll be sure to let the kitchens know you want pork.” I narrow my eyes at him, but he flashes me a grin. “Go ahead, your lovely bride wants to be in your company.”

  “Thank you,” Briar says, sounding surprised, as she stares at Willem.

  He dips his chin at her as he throws himself in my velvet chair, propping his feet on my desk. I inhale sharply, anger flaring, but I hold it back. Whatever game, Willem is playing at, he’ll cut it short tonight when we speak again. I pull the door farther open, exposing Briar fully. When I see her light, gauzy dress, I usher her through and slam the door shut on Willem’s gleeful laugh. Briar doesn’t stumble at the sudden move, catching herself gracefully. Her dress is white, adorned with simple, embroidered flowers, and is light enough that she won’t get overheated. I tug on my own collar as a blast of hot wind courses through the hall. Soon, I’ll have to reinforce the magical wards that protect my castle from the Underworld’s weather.

  Briar bites her lip, her hands hidden behind her, but I know she’s wringing them together out of sight. I sigh and cross my arms. “What is it you had planned?” I ask, sounding bored.

  “I thought you might show me some of your world,” she says softly. She looks at me through thick lashes and I feel a wave of urgent desire. I cross my arms tighter. “If I’m going to be a part of it, I want to know it.”

  I feel an odd tickle in my chest, and I know if I weren’t so distrustful of mortals, her wor
ds would please me. But all mortals are liars. “Follow me,” I growl, striding ahead of her.

  She hurries to keep up with my long strides, but I don’t feel any guilt for making her run along behind me. I told her father I would break her, and I will. But it will be slow at first, little things here and there to make her suffer. And then reprieve, to make her crawl back into my arms only to be thrust away again. I grin to myself, feeling the shadows swirling around me, pleased.

  I lead her to the stables, where my carriage is already waiting with two winged horses hitched. Briar gasps when she sees the mares and I feel her curiosity prick against my senses. I catch her arm before she’s even passed me and shake my head warningly. “The Alathian breed is not gentle, I would not touch them if I were you,” I warn.

  She nods, eyes flitting between me and the horses. They huff, turning red irises on her and she flinches back. Grinning, I wait for her to climb into the opulent, black carriage. She moves quickly, only giving me a moment to admire her figure before she’s seated in a corner by the window. She pushes back the black drape, tying it open with golden threads. I slam the carriage door closed behind us and take a seat opposite her.

  “Hold on,” I say, lounging back in the comfortable leather as the horses snort.

  Briar yelps as the carriage jolts. The Alathian mounts launch into the sky, dragging the carriage behind them. Magic keeps the carriage stable and the ride smooth despite the uneven flying of the mounts. Briar shrinks back against the cushions for a moment and I prop my chin in my hand, grinning at her.

  “Afraid of heights?” I ask, cocking a brow.

  She licks her lips nervously, and my gaze tracks her tongue until it disappears between her full lips. “Not really.”

  “No?” My grin widens. “Look out the window.”

  “You first,” she says stubbornly, but her chest rises and falls quickly with anxiety.

  I cross to her side of the carriage and she watches me worriedly. One of her pale hands lifts as if to steady me but I stop her with a flick of my eyes. I sit beside her and point towards the open window. She scoots towards it and I follow, one leg pressed against hers. She stiffens at the touch, heart pounding in her chest. I feel a small sense of satisfaction at her reaction to me. I lean over her, propping one hand on the windowsill. I move my face to the window and cock my head, inviting her to look closer. She swallows loudly and I almost smile.

  Slowly, she leans closer to me, her breath wafting over my face. Her hair brushes over my cheek and she exhales softly at the sight unfolding before her. I can’t tear my eyes away from her as she drinks in the landscape. The ever-setting sun casting her porcelain face in a rosy glow. Outside, she’s staring at the mountains surrounding the valley, covered in tall, dark pine trees. Past that, a glittering river wanders through the landscape.

  “That’s the Well of Souls,” she whispers, staring at a tall, spindly spire in the distance.

  “It is,” I say, surprise lacing my voice. The Well of Souls sits beneath an ornate tower of moonstone, deep in the earth. It is the resting place for all souls that have been fragmented by horror and trauma, the incomplete people who walked in the mortal realms. They rest in the Well now, in its cool waters.

  “I read about it,” she says, moving closer to the window and closer to me without realizing it. I let her warmth invade me and resist the urge to brush my lips over her ear.

  “And what did you read?” I ask instead, voice rough with held-back desire.

  She points to a canyon, a gaping hole in the world below. “And that’s the Hall of Awakening. Gods, it’s beautiful.” She flashes me an apologetic look. “Sorry.”

  I laugh softly. “I hardly think of myself as a God.”

  “You seem to be the only one who doesn’t,” she says, a smile quirking her lips.

  My eyes rover over her face, her round cheeks, and full lips. She blushes under my gaze and turns away, but I can feel her blood thrumming. “Tell me,” I say. “How is it you know so much of my realm?”

  “I’ve been reading about the Underworld since I was a child. I’ve known since I was young that someday this would be my home.” Her eyes dart towards me. “And you would be my husband. I wanted to know everything. I read about the Well, The Hall of Awakening, the Blood Forest, Yolnheim, Zculth.”

  “Everything?” I cock a brow. Either this mortal didn’t know what her father planned, or she’s a very clever actress. I have yet to decide which.

  Her eyes flick to me once more. “Not everything. For all the books on the Underworld, there wasn’t a single one about you,” she says softly.

  “And do I meet your expectations? Your imaginings?” I purr, leaning closer. I pin her against the seat and the corner, listening to the drumming of her heart lead me into an intoxicating dance. I move in, pressing my nose to the soft flesh over her collarbone and inhaling deeply. “Are you satisfied?”

  She shudders, but I catch the scent of her heat, and it sends my blood racing. "Kane," she says, trying not to stammer.

  I lift my gaze, tongue running over my teeth like a mountain lion about to feast. Her eyes stop me. Despite their darkness, I see a fire in them, a glittering awareness and a flash of desire to rival my own. A growl rumbles in my throat and my knuckles go white from holding the windowsill and cushion so tightly. She looks ready, frightened, but ready for whatever is in store.

  I scowl, pushing away from her. She utters a confused sound, like a question strangled in her throat. Smoothly, I move to the other side of the carriage and lounge back into the cushions. I wave a hand towards the open window lazily.

  “Go ahead,” I drawl. “Since you know so much already, you certainly don’t need a guide.”

  She swallows hard and I see a blush creep to her cheeks, splotchy and red. For a single moment, I feel a wave of guilt and regret but I push it away. Now isn’t the time to take her, not yet. It will be the final act, the last thing to twist her into my grips completely. I repeat this to myself, trying to convince myself that this is why I must hold back. But there’s a seed of doubt in my heart, as small as a grain of sand, that wonders if I’m just frightened of a woman who can look me in the eye and wear her fear proudly on her sleeve. A woman who might be ready to devote her entire life to me.

  A woman like that, she is a dangerous woman.

  Chapter 5

  Briar

  Kane continues to surprise me. I still don’t know why I sought him out this afternoon, or why I didn’t push him away when he leered at me in the carriage. No. I know why. It’s because for all his cruelty and his spiteful words and wicked gaze, something pulls me to him like a moth to a flame. The flame is dangerous to the moth, deadly even, and yet it can’t resist the subtle pull. I drop my gaze to the thick carpet covering the dark floors as I wander the halls. Kane is my flame, and if I’m not careful, he might be the death of me.

  Unless I get him first.

  I clear my mind of such thoughts, suddenly worried that the creatures of this realm can sense my thoughts. But I’m alone in the halls, as I have been since we returned from the carriage ride. Kane left me immediately, not even bothering with goodbyes, before stalking back towards his office. I drifted behind him, breathing in his cologne, or perhaps it's his natural scent. I’m not sure. But he smelled like midnight and pine. It was intoxicating.

  I pause in front of a window, a genuine window with clear glass, not one of the painted ones. It looks down upon a small garden, tall trees hide its contents from view, but I feel a spark of curiosity. I find the nearest staircase and go down to the main level, where the door to the garden should be. It’s a simple door, nothing like the architecture of the rest of Kane’s gothic palace. I twist it open, assaulted by the fresh smell of jasmine and rain. I breathe in deeply, the fresh air clearing my head. It’s easier to think of things besides Kane out here, and it feels like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders.

  The garden is small, the size of my room perhaps. Tall, leafy trees round the peri
phery, sealing it in green foliage. In the center is a pool, taking up most of the space. Lotus flowers drift atop the midnight blue water, pink and flushed in starlight. Lit by stars and a few candles, the garden feels like a separate world from the rest. I glance back at the door and then search for any windows looking into this place. The only one is the one I spotted the garden from, and the canopy blocks the pool from view up above.

  Satisfied of my privacy, I slip out of the white gown I wore today. I thought the light color was refreshing, and the material helped me evade the heat. Secretly, I had also hoped that it might remind Kane of my betrothal to him. I leave the gown on the stones and pad towards the pool. The water is as still as a mirror, and I spot a pretty mosaic inlaid in the tile at the bottom. A chill wind whispers across my skin. I slip into the pool, naked, and let the warm water buoy me up.

  Sighing, I lay on my back, eyes piercing through the foliage to the stars I can see winking in the sky. I stretch out my arms and flex my toes, relaxing. This is the best I’ve felt since I came to the Underworld. Everything here seems right. Perfect. Calm. Here, there’s no pressure from my father, no comparisons to my older sisters, and no fear that Kane won’t want me.

  “I see you found my mother’s garden.” Kane’s voice, distorted by water, reaches my ears.

  I gasp, twisting off my back so my breasts are hidden by the water. Death himself stands at the edge of the pool, the door to the garden closed tightly behind him. His dark eyes glitter even in the night. His arms are folded across his chest as he stares at me and I flush, moving backwards into the shadows.

  He grins wickedly. “There’s no need, darling, all creatures of the Underworld can see perfectly well in the dark.”

  My heart hammers in my chest and I feel a stirring in my core. My blush deepens, but I don’t hide myself by wrapping my arms around my body. His eyes never move from mine as we stare at each other over the still pool. Heat courses through me and I get the mad urge to ask him to join me. I bite back the question before it can fall from my lips. Slowly, I rise from the pool, letting the water drip over my slick skin. The cool air pricks at me, sending goosebumps pocking over my body. My nipples stiffen, and Kane’s eyes flare.