by A. K. Koonce
Hopeless Sacrifice
Hopeless Sacrifice
A.K. Koonce
Hopeless Sacrifice
Copyright 2018 A.K. Koonce
All Rights Reserved
Cover design by Desiree DeOrto
Editing by Varankor Editing
No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without express written permission from the author. Any unauthorized use of this material is prohibited.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales are entirely coincidence.
To the Hopeless. May they survive the ash and dust and live to rise again.
Table of Contents
Chapter One - The Gods Above
Chapter Two - Puppet Fucking
Chapter Three - Peace
Chapter Four - Mimicking
Chapter Five - A Game of Gods
Chapter Six - Powerful Magic
Chapter Seven – Another Kind of Magic
Chapter Eight – A Mistake
Chapter Nine – The Gift of Sacrifice
Chapter Ten – New Haven
Chapter Eleven – Old Friends
Chapter Twelve – Short-Lived Happiness
Chapter Thirteen - Ours
Chapter Fourteen - Don’t Ever Worry
Chapter Fifteen - An Awful Plan
Chapter Sixteen – The Eminence
Chapter Seventeen – Powerful Magic
Chapter Eighteen – The Sacrifice
Chapter Nineteen – Several Quiet Months Later
Epilogue
About A.K. Koonce
Chapter One
The Gods Above
The Realm of the Gods is as captivating as I always imagined it would be. We stare up at the entrance from our meager little existence. Thousands of stairs tower up, taunting us to journey forward. I take the first step, and Ryder, Darrio, and Daxdyn hold their gaze on me even after I pass them. Nefarious gives a little smoky exhale as if he’s reluctant to follow after me. But he does. His hooves beat hard against the granite.
The hollow echo of my boots against the ancient stone fills the air until one after the other they trail behind me. The repetitive sound of the soldiers’ steps consumes my mind. It’s a nice, steady beat. Strands of my long blonde hair blow across my face on the cool breeze as I trek higher into the heavens.
The gods are really just above here? Do they know we’re coming? Do they know what our futures hold?
It’s an endless and quiet hike. An hour passes in heavy silence. It’s as if everyone else is thinking the same stream of anxious thoughts that I am.
When the air thins out with a drifting layer of fog guiding our steps, I see it. A shining, golden gate is just ahead. My steps become faster, tapping quickly against the stone.
The gates part upon my arrival, gliding open and letting the heavens greet me as if they’ve been waiting for me my entire life.
Soft ground meets my feet, the fog thickening around my calves.
A long white desk sits in the middle of an open and empty space. Everything is white and hazy. It feels like my mind’s playing tricks on me, not letting me fully see what’s around us. I blink rapidly to clear my gaze but nothing helps.
Daxdyn’s warm hand slips into mine, his lips skimming the corner of my jaw as he leans into my body.
“The gods aren’t ... as honest and helpful as you might think.” I peek up at his serious look. “Be careful with your requests.” His lips press to my temple before he pulls away.
I should be careful? They are the ones who said this would be the best route back to the mortal realm.
“Next,” a woman shrieks to no one in particular.
My spine stiffens from her tone and I stand on the toes of my boots to see a small woman seated behind the enormous desk.
“Next,” she beckons again.
I hesitantly walk forward. Darrio’s arm skims mine as he keeps a protective pace with me.
Hundreds of soldiers stand quietly behind us as I step up to the desk.
My fingers run over the smooth surface. I look down at her. Glossy brown hair is tied tightly back from her porcelain features. She’s young. Pretty. Beautiful really.
Seconds pass as I wait for her to tip her head up at me. To acknowledge me in some way. Still, she just sorts through her stack of papers, signing her name at the bottom of some and shuffling others into a separate bin on her desk.
It’s all very mundane.
Not very godly at all.
“Can I help you?” Her eyes never leave the documents in front of her. For a moment, I look up at Darrio. He passes me a stern but annoyed look.
“Yes, I—we’d like to speak to someone within the Realm of the Gods. There’s a war c—“
Her bland tone cuts me off before I can even consider my words fully.
“Do you have an appointment?”
A line creases her thin brows. A beat passes with the scratching sound of her pen as she signs off on another paper.
An appointment? Do I look like the type of person who has their shit together enough for appointments?
“Um, no. No, we don’t, but it is a matter of importance.”
Desperately, I cling to the most professional persona I can.
A matter of importance. Who the hell says stuff like that?
“Unfortunately, no one is granted access within the Realm of the Gods unless they have been summoned.” Her blue eyes look up at me for less than a second, judging me entirely within that short amount of time.
Dread sinks heavy to the bottom of my stomach.
Of course. Why would we be allowed to just prance into the Realm of the Gods?
“I’ve been summoned,” Ryder says, stepping forward, his fingers drumming against the shining desktop as he offers her a charming smile.
I keep the skeptical look from my face as he leans into her little area.
“Viola summoned me this morning. Again.” He winks at her, and I nearly give myself an aneurism to keep from rolling my eyes at his ridiculous charisma.
“Viola?” The paper is set down as she looks up at the former prince of Juvar. “Have you brought your heritage documentation?” Her eyes narrow on him, disbelief lacing her words.
“Of course.” Ryder pulls a folded paper from his pocket but doesn’t hand it to her. It’s a piece of trash for sure, but it is a neatly folded piece of trash.
“I’ll need three legal proofs of residency as well.” Her voice is a testing sound, seemingly waiting for him to back down from her requests.
Proofs of residency? Well I’m screwed.
Guess the fate of the mortal realm is on Ryder’s arrogant shoulders now.
“Of course.” Ryder’s smile widens as if this is a typical day filled with typical paperwork. Just another day within the Realm of the Gods for dear old Ryder. “Can you give her a call? She’s going to be upset if I’m late this time.”
The woman studies Ryder. She seems to be considering him very intently. I look away, feigning interest in the emptiness that surrounds me.
After she’s looked at the handsome prince for all he’s worth, she slowly picks up a small, white, square object. Her polished red nails press a few buttons on the thing before she holds it between her shoulder and her ear.
Her pen scrawls across another document as she signs it quickly.
“Viola, good morning.” The sweetest tone I’ve ever heard falls from her lips as a false smile perches against her mouth. “I have a man here,” she pauses and glances up at Ryder.
“Ryder Rourke,” he whispers, leaning even closer to he
r, charm rolling off of him in suffocating waves.
“Ryder Rourke says you summoned him again.” Her gaze shifts skeptically over Ryder’s wide shoulders. “Yes, he is. He’s brought a few … friends this time.” Her attention flickers to me and the crowd of soldiers. “Yes. I’ll let him know. Thank you.”
A button is pressed against the tiny box before she sets it down.
My heart pounds, waiting for her to speak again.
“Viola will be right out, Mr. Rourke.”
Fuck yes!
Ryder passes me a confident look from out of the corner of his eye and it has energy searing through me. I almost throw my arms around him. The woman’s annoyance and glaring eyes hold me in my place. But it doesn’t stop the smile of achievement from consuming my features.
The four of us drift away from her desk, just to put a safe amount of space between us and her. The soldiers stand quiet; a mass of trained precision and deadly strength. Darrio steps away from us and whispers something quietly to his second in command.
Unfortunately, the second in command, Streven, reminds me just how little faith he has in me as he holds my gaze. His sea blue eyes sink into me as Darrio speaks in a low, humming tone to him.
My attention trails over the others. A look of respect passes my way, some of them lower their gazes entirely. None hold the doubt that Streven does.
Not that I’m dwelling on it. Not everyone will love my endearing and fabulous fucking personality.
I turn away from him, and Ryder’s wide chest skims my arm.
“Who’s Viola?” I whisper, tipping my head up to him in hopes that my voice doesn’t carry to the hard-glaring receptionist.
Ryder’s mouth parts but he doesn’t immediately answer. The warmth of his palm skims down the inside of my wrist, just across the dark lines of the Hopeless symbol, as his body dominates over mine. He seems to be thinking through his words carefully.
“Yes, who is Viola, Ryder?” Daxdyn taunts him with a mischievous smile that even the gods would be envious of.
At the tone of his voice my eyes narrow, my head tilting back to consider the silence Ryder’s clinging to.
“Well,” another long pause cuts through his words.
As I stare up at him, my chest pressing against his, his breath fanning over my lips, a woman appears from thin air. Her features blur before turning into a solid form.
My steps falter away from her, stumbling against the pure white fog.
“I am Viola.” White teeth reveal a wide and astoundingly beautiful smile. Emerald eyes shine down on me. Every single inch of her is smooth perfection.
Her gaze dances between Ryder and myself, her attention finally settling curiously on the prince.
“Ryder, how are you?” The spark in her eyes shifts all over his body, skimming against his muscle tone and the uneasy look in his eyes.
You know that tension that fires through a room when two people who have had sex meet again? That tension is blazing this fucking realm to the ground.
She’s enjoying the teetering awkwardness Ryder’s trying to hide. She looks like a hungry cat toying with the carcass of a mouse.
“Who’s your friend, Ryder?” The smile on her lips grows.
His palm pushes down my hand, his fingers interlocking with mine.
“This is Zakara Storm.” A gentle pause has me hanging on his words. “My girlfriend.” A weird feeling floods my heart. It consumes me with a strange and unexpected happiness. “Kara, this is Viola, keeper of the past, seer of the realms, speaker of the gods.”
Fucker of my boyfriend.
The pettiness is pushed down deep inside me as I offer her a kind smile.
Is there a realm somewhere—anywhere—that isn’t filled with women Ryder has screwed?
My annoyed thoughts are cut off when she asks the real question that’s needed here.
“I haven’t seen you in a while. What do you need now, fae?” A teasing smirk fills her pretty features and she begins to look around at the endless army behind me.
“A violent war is coming to the mortal realm and soon to ours.” Ryder’s deep tone vibrates through the empty space in a strange way.
“Yes. Yes, it is.” Her voice is soft and calm.
The aloof sound of her words, the carelessness of it, sets me on edge.
We’re talking about the annihilation of an entire realm and this keeper-speaker can’t seem to focus on a thing we’re saying.
“We want the gods’ help,” I blurt out, tilting my head into her view, drawing her attention back to the very real issue at hand.
The curious look in her eyes dances over my features, taking in every detail of my face.
“No.” A playful smile accompanies her reply.
“No?”
“The gods do not intervene with petty mortal problems.”
Petty?
Petty?
She wants to see petty?
Daxdyn’s palm skims down my spine, his magic threatening to smother out the outrage that’s building within me.
“Can we just come in and discuss this, Vi?” A smile that makes me want to slap him fills Ryder’s face.
Vi?
Childish aggravation swarms me.
“I cannot entertain an entire army, Ryder. I do want to know more about her though.” Her gaze settles back on the line that’s creasing hard through my brows. “I want to know why the gods chose her above all others.”
You and me both, Vi.
“Come, bring your lovers as well.” The knowing look in her gaze skips between Darrio, Daxdyn, and Ryder.
Only a short second passes before she turns to leave. The four of us trail behind the pretty goddess. The secretary gives us a quick look from over her tower of papers as we pass. It takes everything in me not to flip her off.
The fog clears away the farther into the realm we journey. Colors begin to push into view, deep shades of green and blues. A land similar to the Hopeless realm materializes as if it has surrounded us the whole time and we just now have the ability to see it.
Lush grass guides me forward. The sky is a perfect shade of blue and trees bloom with pale pink flowers. The smell of nature envelops me. Pools of crystal-clear water skim against the edge of our path as I trail after the swaying steps of the goddess.
A courtyard makes way to an open setting and it’s there that we stop. Few people–gods—linger in the area. They speak quietly, ignoring the five of us.
Except for one.
Deep blue eyes continue to lock on to mine, following me as I walk behind Viola. The hulking man looks out of place among the serene flowers.
I suppose we do too.
We only make it a few yards in before he wanders slowly over. His chest is bare, revealing the perfectly sculpted body only a god could have.
“I didn’t know we had visitors today.” Confidence clings to his deep voice as he looks to Viola for an introduction.
A catlike smile is all she gives him. No introductions. Nothing. She gives the god nothing.
Maybe I do like her after all.
“I’m Baldur. Welcome to the realm.” Baldur’s hand is extended to me and the fact that his warm attention is held solely on me does not go unnoticed.
Stiffly, I take his hand. I shake it with cautionary instincts slashing through my chest. Everything here is beautiful and perfect and accompanied by a feeling of unease.
“Baldur, do not bore our new guests already.” An airy tone drifts through a new stranger’s words as he clasps Baldur on the shoulder, standing too close it seems. Baldur’s shoulder’s tense beneath the man’s touch.
“You four want something, yes?” The newcomer’s pale eyes crinkle at the corners.
“Yes,” I say without hesitation.
The stranger’s gaze flashes, a bright white flickering through the blue.
“I’m Loki. Please, please tell me what the gods can do for you.”
It’s then that the rug is pulled out. Loki is not one to ask favors o
f. In fact, I’d like to step back from him entirely.
Darrio takes a single step closer to me and Loki’s wild eyes eat up the small movement.
“You two are … a temporary item.”
Temporary?
“Passing love is always the best.” A romantic sigh leaves his lips as he looks off into the sky with a deranged smile.
“Actually, all four of them are an item.” Viola and Loki share a similar manic look.
Is everyone here fucking insane?
Loki’s hungry gaze shifts over us, his attention lingers longer on Ryder and Dax.
“The blonde man and the smaller man do seem to be a perfect match.”
Ryder’s eyes widen as if he’s just been struck down by the wrath of the gods.
“That’s … not …” Daxdyn’s argument fades away as he struggles to explain the four of us.
“They’re in love with the woman, Loki.” Viola explains and another curious look slashes white through his gaze. Baldur still hasn’t looked away from me, and I keep my shoulders locked in an image of strength.
“She has fire magic. She has wings too.” Viola’s voice holds so much wonder in it that I’m starting to feel like a plaything here. A toy for the gods to pass their time with.
No one speaks as Loki’s manic attention sweeps over me.
“Wings?” Loki takes a step closer at the same time as Darrio and suddenly the two men are chest to chest.
Darrio stares fearlessly down at the trickster god before him.
A smile like a knife carving curves Loki’s lips and, in an instant, he flashes past the warrior fae. He steps up to me with ease, and I struggle to contain an impressed look.
“Show me the wings.”
I hold his gaze even as a chill runs down my arms. My chin tips higher. With little effort, the wings spread wide and proud from my shoulder blades. I keep them held out like an offering. They span behind me, shadowing across Ryder and Daxdyn.
Loki’s gaze trails over them, his lips parted with awe. Surprisingly, he does not touch. And that alone has me thanking the gods.
“Hmmm, you wanted our help?” Loki’s eyes are still skimming over my dark feathers.
“I already told her we could not interfere in mortal problems.” Viola’s quiet voice doesn’t deter the god’s attention away from me.