Two Worlds of Dominion

by Angelina J. Steffort

  Corey gave him a half-smile. “If that’s true, there is only one thing we need to attempt to do in order to beat Gan Krai.” Her eyes darted at Maray. “We need to find a way to use his own power against him.”

  “His devil-children,” Oliver added, and Maray understood.

  It took Corey and Oliver a couple of days to recover. Even if they hadn’t been physically hurt, their minds were tired and strained from Gan Krai’s attacks against them.

  Maray gave them rooms in the palace close to her own, along with Heck and Seri, as well as having Goran and Pete stand guard as much as they could. Wil, on the other hand, was more of a personal guard to Corey, spending a suspicious amount of nights in her bedroom.

  Maybe it was a good thing for her to be distracted and someone other than Gan Krai filled her head for once. As for Oliver—he held good on his promise to do anything he could to help with the council. Over the next days, he acted as Sara’s right hand, sweet-talking the council members who were still demanding Maray’s marriage alliance before a coronation. And Oliver was surprisingly eloquent as he pointed out the benefits of having an unmarried queen.

  Meanwhile, Maray spent every waking moment preparing speeches, holding heavily guarded audiences to convince her own people that there was war at hand and they needed to provide a unified front... which meant that each and every one of them would be needed to assure the realm’s safety.

  Gerwin returned to the other world with a small group of scouts, assessing the reach Gan Krai had over Maray’s old realm, while Scott and Neelis did everything in their power to protect the people of Allinan—Maray’s people—from the Shalleyn’s Guerrilla attacks.

  Jemin was with them most of the time though Maray’s military strategist and commander of her guard, as well as the pack leader, wanted to keep him away from her.

  Whenever Maray’s heart felt like it was being diluted in her chest, Pia was there to reassure her it wasn’t Jemin’s choice. That Neelis insisted Jemin focus on the hunt rather than delve into the nostalgia of a love that didn’t have much space during the times of war.

  It hurt to hear. And it hurt when Jemin—on his rare shifts with her—curled up in his Yutu-shape in Pen’s cottage, where Maray resided for the nights, and hid his nose in his paws.

  Maray didn’t even dare pet his back or neck out of fear he would jump to his legs and prowl to the door. And in even rarer moments, she got to see his human face. His brooding had returned full force, making his young features seem at the edge of exhaustion.

  And so, Maray used her time in an endless loop of worry, training magic with Corey, learning to stand against the demons, convincing her people, and facing the council until after a week, Corey and Oliver felt it was time to return to Gan Krai. If they were to bring him down from the inside, they needed to be there.

  “Don’t forget what I showed you about how to bring a Shalleyn down with magic,” Corey reminded Maray as they hugged.

  “I’m still surprised no one came looking for you,” Seri noted, sounding only half as cynical since Heck had been released from his engagement to Maray.

  Oliver just shrugged. “He is not like us,” he explained. “Gan Krai is immortal. A couple of days are nothing to him. He probably hasn’t even noticed we’re gone—”

  Corey flinched at his words but nodded. “We’ll do our best to find a way to release the devil-children from their mind-control,” she promised. “And if we can’t do that, we’ll find a way to control them ourselves.”

  Her words scared Maray. She had known Corey was powerful, but ever since she had encountered Gan Krai and his Shalleyn, she had a cold rage going on inside her, which made her… dangerous.

  “See you on the battlefield.” Oliver winked as he walked out. Corey pressed her lips into a thin line, following suit.

  “Be careful.” It was all Maray could bring herself to say as she bid them goodbye in the foyer and watched them stride out the front door and up to the front gate.

  Beside her, Wil crossed his arms over his chest, grasping his upper arms as if holding himself in place.

  “I don’t know if this is a good idea,” he muttered.

  And Maray nodded. “But what other choice do we have?”

  By the hardening look in his eyes, she knew that he agreed. This was war. Not open battle—not yet. But war, which had already claimed casualties on both sides. And Gan Krai was going after her people now—

  Time for him to burn in hell.

  “Oliver mentioned something interesting the other day.” Wil’s voice was still low as if he was merely thinking rather than speaking.

  “That is?”

  “Gan Krai wants nothing more than to be loved—”

  “That’s why he keeps insisting on the marriage to the crown?” Maray interrupted, following her own conclusions.

  “Maybe,” Wil agreed. “But more importantly, he has shown that if he can’t be loved, he’d rather be feared…” His words trailed away as the gates closed, leaving Corey and Oliver nothing more than two silhouettes behind the ornate iron.

  It was mere days before more and more people showed up at those very same gates, openly demanding Maray’s coronation. They came with chants and banners, and it wasn’t long before Sara had the council at a point where they gave in.

  Maray felt a small victory, one thing that she could take away from Gan Krai. And it was a sensation satisfying to the core. Even if the warlock didn’t know it yet, she was planning his demise and the plans were beginning to succeed.

  “We set a trap,” she informed the council and earned alarmed looks from all sides. “At the coronation,” she specified. “We set a trap for Gan Krai. He’ll never stand by and watch me get crowned—not if he has other plans for me…” She swallowed at what those plans specifically could be.

  And at the mention of the trap, the council began to murmur. It was there in their eyes that they understood this would be not a coronation celebration, but an assassination attempt, and Gan Krai would be the guest of honor.

  “Let’s set a date and send him an invitation.”

  And so, Sara had held her promise.

  Everywhere she looked was gold. From the bottom of the walls to the ceiling, there were golden ornamentations framing images she didn’t have the cognitive capacity to fully take in. Not if the half-naked, golden women she had until now only seen on television were staring at her intensely from each side of the room as she marched down the aisle, framed by half of Allinan’s nobility. Everyone who counted was there: Wil, Heck, and Seri side by side, Neelis, Scott at the front next to where the councilor—Sara—was waiting with the heavy, golden object that was about to be placed on Maray’s head. If she ever made it up to the platform without Gan Krai tearing her or the building apart, that is. Even her father had taken the day off from his mission to watch her coronation—at least, that was what people thought. Everyone on the council knew that the room was packed with the best fighters in the guard, the strongest, fiercest, and most loyal soldiers, to protect Maray and set the trap for Gan Krai.

  Maray searched the room for the one face she had hardly gotten to see for the past weeks, Jemin’s. But it wasn’t among the crowd. It wasn’t anywhere. Both Neelis and Scott had kept him busy with errands, patrols, and training so when the big day arrived, he would be prepared.

  And the rare nights he had spent with her, curled up in his Yutu-form at the foot end of her bed, he had been brooding, quiet, reserved, measuring her from a distance, but never daring to speak of that day he’d claimed her. Maray allowed her heart to ache for a fraction of a second. It was better than swallowing it and ignoring it. But she felt it. She was incomplete in his absence, even if she didn’t like to admit it. And the feeling didn’t fade over time but instead intensified with every waking moment.

  As the choir wove elaborate melodies into the stuffy air, Maray’s chest tightened with memories of iron coffins and white flowers and tears, endless tears. But today wasn’t for her mother’s funera
l or her grandmother’s remembrance. This music was for her. Maray Elise Cornay. She had left the Johnson name long behind her, and as she marched up to receive the weight of her birthright, whatever remained of the naive girl from the other world crumbled away, leaving what the people of Allinan—her people—needed; someone strong enough to take on Gan Krai and the threat of his terror. A monarch worthy of their trust and loyalty. A queen worthy of their love.

  Everything was inconspicuous. Peaceful. Too peaceful. No shadows, no fog, no attacks. Had word not reached Gan Krai? Corey was there back in the folds between dimensions. She had carried the message… played the bait.

  Maray searched for signs of distress, yet none of her point men gave anything but a reassuring smile at her silent inquiry.

  Pia shrugged at her from the side as she passed by, probably looking half as uncomfortable as she felt in her celebratory costume—which included a corset. This was the most formal Allinan could get, and even Maray hadn’t found a way around the suffocating attire it demanded. So she had sucked it up and let Pia tie her into the prison of her dress—a pompous brocade gown of blue and gold like the night-sky brimming with the comforting glimmer of starlight. A train of a few feet mopped up the red carpet wherever she walked. The neckline hugged her collarbones in lines of gold, and her braid kept getting caught when she as much as turned her head an inch. But she endured it. For Allinan.

  And then she saw him, bright-eyed and smiling, the way she hadn’t seen him in a long time, standing at the side of the room where the musicians entered and left the stage. His shirt was midnight blue Thaotine, and his hair beautiful caramel curls, which she wanted to dig her fingers into. Her lips twitched as he inclined his head. Jemin was back—her Jemin—and something in his smile told her that he would stay for good.

  Maray walked forward, on and on, along the endless aisle, her feet more stable as she kept staring into Jemin’s eyes.

  Still no sign of Gan Krai, of his demons or his devil-children.

  As she arrived at the front of the room, she lifted the hem of her skirt with an elegant motion, just enough to not trip as she walked up the small stairs to join Sara on the platform before the choir.

  She sank down to her knees onto the golden pillow as she had been told and lowered her head as Sara lowered the crown to set atop. She didn’t hear the music or the murmurs of excitement as the weight of power and responsibility, represented by the shape of a braided golden band with leaves and flowers made of crystal woven in-between the patterns, settled on her head. All that mattered was what she had achieved and that the ones she loved were here with her to share this moment. Her moment. This was her time to rule. Allinan was hers, and she was going to do her best to be her worthy Queen.

  Jemin

  Jemin’s heart missed a beat as the crown settled onto Maray’s head. His Queen—of heart and now by protocol, too.

  Everything about her was made for this moment. The way she carried herself, her hands, slender and graceful as she reached for her skirt and rose to her feet. Her delicate neck, which was a column of ivory under an ornate braid of ebony. And her eyes. Two jewels framed by night, calling to him every second their gazes locked.

  He wished there was magic to capture the moment—not just her image, for that would be painted and hung in every gallery in Allinan. But the intricate layers of emotion settled in Jemin.

  No one in the inner circle had expected for this to happen, for Gan Krai to let the coronation happen without interference. So it was surprise as much as awe that struck him from every angle and filled his bursting heart at the view of completion—his completion.

  Maray

  The procession had started. Spectators first, then court officials, then the guard, Maray at the heart of their formation.

  “This way, Your Majesty.” Scott led her down the podium and was about to wave over two more guards when a shriek filled the air.

  Maray woke from a daze.

  He was here. Gan Krai. The earth shook at the sound, and people started panicking, running for the exit. All but the ones who were in on the plan—and right they were to run.

  There, above the podium on the organ-balcony, stood Gan Krai, his crimson eyes blazing like fire as he met Maray’s gaze.

  “You didn’t think I’d miss the festivities,” he called, his tone suggesting he’d been invited for real.

  Maray shuddered and locked her fingers in the fabric of her skirt to hide the trembling. “Oh, I was hoping you’d come.” She forced all the cunning she could find within herself, all the daring onto her face, gloating at Gan Krai as, from all sides, guards streamed into the room and onto the balcony. Feris was beside Maray in an instant, his palms raised to shield her from invisible strikes, and every shifter in the room transformed into their Yutu-form to gain an advantage over Gan Krai.

  “Nice,” Gan Krai communed, sounding hardly as though he felt as if it was truly ‘nice’. “You brought your pets.”

  He sneered at one Yutu in particular then lifted a finger in silent command. “I thought had I killed you the last time.”

  It was Jemin he’d been talking to, and every fiber in Maray revolted as one of the missing spies from the other world materialized at Gan Krai’s side.

  “Shalleyn,” Feris hissed, and Maray knew what she needed to do as every man and woman available formed a ring of protection around her.

  They should have formed it around Jemin, for it was written clear as day on Gan Krai’s features that his way of getting back at her was to go after Jemin first.

  The guards stopped dead as the Shalleyn grinned and reached out his hand, grasping the air but, in reality, grasping Jemin.

  Maray swallowed. Focus. She needed to focus. But Jemin’s ocean-blue eyes, even in his shifter form, held her gaze. Did he know what was about to happen to him?

  And the first strike came, leaving Jemin panting as the Shalleyn’s invisible grasp rammed his flank into a pillar on the side of the room.

  He yelped then growled and scrambled to his feet, only to be pushed back into the same stone pillar. The sound of bone cracking at the impact ran through Maray like a bolt of lightning, and she struggled not to run for Jemin and help. It would be the wrong type of help.

  “What, Princess…” Gan Krai paused dramatically, “my apologies, Queen Maray. Isn’t it fair that I strike down the last one standing between you and me?”

  There it was. The warlock was still after a union. A forced one if necessary. Just to have his revenge on the Cornay line.

  “You should have waited with the ceremony until I arrived. Sara Brendal could have married us then and there.”

  Maray felt a scream of fury build in her throat, but she knew it was a waste of time. Kill the Shalleyn to protect Jemin then deal with the evil mastermind.

  She swallowed back the rage and raised her palms. The rage would be more useful if she didn’t give it release through a verbal statement. She held up her hands and summoned heat. Heat fueled by fury, heat fueled by rage, fueled by fear for Jemin… and for everyone in the room.

  “Everyone, down!” Scott shouted, and Maray only hoped that her guards could make it in time to get out of the way as a blast of fire erupted from her hands.

  Dust and concrete rained from the ceiling, and Maray had to cover her face to protect it. From the hallway, she heard a crashing noise followed by screams as something collapsed.

  “You need to get out of here, Your Majesty.” It was Scott, who grabbed her arm and pulled her forward.

  But Maray fought the tug on her arm. “Jemin,” she panted. “Where is he?”

  She couldn’t see or make out his voice or growls in the sudden chaos that broke out, interrupted by the noise of cracking walls and falling boulders.

  “Let Neelis take care of him,” was Scott’s curt answer, and he pulled her along without regard for her need to know if Jemin was all right.

  Her feet mechanically lifted and sank as she stumbled forward, hardly feeling the gravel hitting her
from above.

  “Next time I see you,” Gan Krai’s voice thundered across the collapsing hall, “I expect you to kneel before me, Maray Cornay.” Maray hurried, driven by the terror of Gan Krai’s words. “You will kneel and lay Allinan at my mercy. Or I will end each and every one who is dear to you. And you know who I’ll start off with—”

  He left the answer to his question to her imagination, his voice echoing behind them as Scott mercilessly tore on her arm. Forward, always forward until the dust cleared and she breathed fresh air.

  “Long live the Queen! Long live the Queen!”

  The chants came from a distance at first like whispers behind the corners of the buildings surrounding the Coronation Hall.

  “This way, Your Majesty.” Scott’s hand was still tight around her elbow, pulling her in a sharp-right and out of the shaking building behind her.

  Screams were webbing into the chants as Maray focused her vision, coughing out the dust and dirt. There were people—everywhere. Those who had fled from the hall stood at the edges of the square before the entrance, some with minor injuries, and pointed at the wide-open entrance which spat gravel and fog and dust.

  Behind them, the lines of spectators were endless, and the ones who weren’t close enough to see the horror on the faces of those who exited the building kept chanting. All of them had come, all of her supporters, to witness her march out of the Coronation Hall, newly crowned Queen of Allinan. Maray’s head spun.

  “Breathe,” Heck’s instructions sounded from right behind her, and she jerked around, anxious to reassure herself he was unharmed.

  She looked him over and found no injuries. Neither on Seri, who was emerging from the Coronation Hall with Master Feris cursing and shaking his head, claiming, “I am too old for this.”