by Bailey Dark
Awakened by The Shadow King
Captive of Shadows
Bailey Dark
Copyright © 2019 by Bailey Dark
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Epilogue
About the Author
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Chapter 1
Briar
Sweat beads upon my brow as I toss and turn, cocooned by the finely spun silk of my bedsheets.
Tendrils of darkness wrap around me, but unlike Kane and his magic, this darkness brings me no comfort. A gasp of pain leaves my lips as my nails claw away at the mattress beneath me. Red eyes lurk in the corners of my mind. Chest heaving, I suck harsh mouthfuls of air into my lungs. But the Nephilim is dead. I know this to be true and yet I thrash in the clutches of my nightmare as if he can reach me beyond the place where not even Death himself lurks.
Sharp, jagged claws strain toward me. White light flares in a swirling spectrum of power, illuminating the shadows and surging all around. My eyes burn as if I am unworthy to look upon its glory even though the warmth of the light reaches down into my soul. The Nephilim’s face contorts into an expression of agony before the swell of the ethereal power becomes too great. An eruption of gore catapults me from the bed and I tumble to the floor.
Through the sound of blood rushing to my head, I hear the pitiful whimpers that escape me. I swallow past the lump of fear that threatens to drag my mind back into the darkness. My eyes flicker around the room, drinking in the familiar sight of the glowing embers that crackle within the hearth. The scarlet hue of red upon the walls drip with dark, concealed blood, and I squeeze my eyes shut to banish the fading remnants of the dream.
I leave for my journey through the underworld soon and yet my mind is still tormented by what happened in the mortal realm. Some nights, I close my eyes and find myself curling up on my side in the room where the Nephilim kept the bodies of his soul-leeched victims. Other nights, I’m standing over my own body as I watch him suck out my soul, seeing the light behind my eyes dim with each sickening pull.
I shiver despite having grown used to the chill that invariably lingers in the air here.
My eyes finally open once again and I reach beneath the pillow. I flinch slightly as my fingers brush against the cold hilt of my blade. Pulling it free, I observe the simplicity of it. Only I know the weight of the burden that comes with its use. It represents everything I am and everything I strive not to be. I am the betrayer and the betrayed. The hypocrisy of my actions mirror Kane’s more than I care to admit.
A clock ticks somewhere in the castle as I stroll over to the window.
Tick tock, tick tock.
Faint light streams in through the variegated stained glass, battling against the shadow draped floors . I trace my finger along the fractals of color that paint an intricate scene of a beautiful garden. Unlatching the window with a grunt of force, I push it open. The sharp scent of jasmine wafts through the air as the wind brushes gently against my cheeks. Tangerine light spills over the land, washing the obsidian mountains in a warm glow. From so high up in the castle, the lights of the city resemble thousands of chatoyant stars.
Reapers soar across a sky streaked with shades of amber and rose. Though they are beautiful in their lethal grace, they pale in comparison to Kane. His enormous fleshy wings were a sight to behold as they sliced through the air at frightening speeds. My heartbeat quickens, memories of our flight drifting gently over my skin, the proximity of our bodies still arousing in thought.
My eyes shift away from the scene, fresh air filling my lungs as my fingers knead my skin, letting the feeling pass by me. My hands reach for the handle of the window, pausing for just a moment before shutting away the outside and shuffling off to ready myself for the day. As the bath fills, I release the clasps of my nightgown, feeling the softness of the fabric as it piles around my feet.
The familiar scent of lilac and honey fills my lungs and soothes my nerves as I dip into the warm waters of my bath. This time, I reach for the oils tinged with the tantalizing aroma of vanilla. I massage them into the long, ebony tresses of my hair before I rinse. After hunting down the Nephilim and enduring an emotional battle with Kane, I don’t mind taking advantage of the luxuries the underworld has to offer.
When the water in my bath grows cold, I quickly braid my untamed waves down the length of my back and wiggle into the dress that the servants left for me. I ease through the door and walk over to the wardrobe in the corner to retrieve the makeshift belt and sheath I made to conceal my dagger. It’s fashioned from materials I found while wandering the castle late at night when the nightmares were too much to handle. Not anything that people will miss, just scraps of leather and a few pewter clasps I took from old clothes.
At first it was a way to distract myself, but in many ways, it became an attempt to avoid my betrothed. Kane also tries his best to avoid me nowadays, neither of us caring enough to hide our reluctance to be in one another’s presence. For me, the guilt is too potent to look into those dark eyes without thinking of my father’s orders. For him...I’m not quite sure what I am to Kane aside from a means to an end. He needs me. Or so he says.
I thought it would bother me, but the space we both exist in has become more comfortable with the distance we force between us. Whenever I am near him, I feel raw and vulnerable and I think he feels the same way. What with usurpers lurking behind every corner, I try my hardest to remain out of sight most days as I prepare for the journey through the underworld. I rest my foot on the seat of a chair and adjust the belt so it fits comfortably. My mother’s dagger slides into the sheath perfectly and I straighten my skirts before leaving.
My footfalls echo down the corridor, but I am not alone. Lilith appears at the top of the staircase. A waterfall of silken hair cascades over her shoulders. Her flawless, ebony complexion practically glistens in the faint light that spills in through the colored windows. Her thin, elegant finger raises to beckon me forward with a sharply tipped nail.
“Briar,” she purrs in a sultry voice. Horrid, bitter tasting envy steals my breath away as the beautiful vampire quirks her full lips to reveal her fanged smile. Those lips know Kane in ways I may never understand. Lilith stalks toward me like a feline on the prowl. “Where are you off to, Pet?”
I grow weary of everyone treating me as if I am not royalty in my own right. My silence irks Lilith and she quirks a slender brow at my show of defiance. “Well, then. The little mortal has some fire in her after all. I’m on my way to see Kane in his office. Walk with me?”
She begins her descent before I answer. I resist the urge to roll my eyes and follow close behind. The dramatic sway of Lilith’s hips are hypnotizing, even to me. Her hair whips to the side as she glances back at me. “Out with it. I can practically smell the smoke coming o
ut of your ears as your feeble mind struggles to formulate a coherent thought. Ask me anything.”
I only pause for a moment, no longer feeling the fear of her uncivil stare. “What was the underworld like before Kane became Death?”
Lilith’s steps falter for a moment and I feel a twisted sense of satisfaction at catching her off guard. “I’m not sure. I wasn’t alive at the time, Briar, but I hear it was...unpleasant. The tales of Drogaem's reign as one of the Three still strikes fear into the hearts of many. But be cautious of who you ask these questions. Some might not be as gracious as I am.”
I nod my head slowly, considering her warning for what it is. “Understood.”
The sound of Lilith’s heels clacking endlessly against the floor echoes in my head. With her merciless avocation of taunting me with anything grievous to my senses, her short stunted answer lingers on the edges of my nerves. I can’t begin to comprehend the depth of luck that has touched my life having Kane as my betrothed. If things had been different…if my father had chosen Drogaem instead… I shudder at the thought, my hands curling into fits beneath the fabric of my sleeves.
“No need in filling that small space above your shoulders with such thoughts,” Lilith continues with a flick of her thin, graceful wrist. “Soon enough I will take my rightful place back at the side of my love and you will be left with far more imposing questions to ask whoever is afflicted with your presence.”
I don’t respond, feeling no need to indulge Lilith in her games today. With a glance in my direction, hoping for an echo of riposte but finding none, her mask of lovely arrogance slides back into place and we continue our journey through the castle in silence. When we reach the impasse of hallways, she stops and bitingly bends slightly at the waist, swinging her arm out in front of her.
“Until next time,” she smirks. “Hopefully a long time from now.”
My lips purse slightly and I push away the reverberating irritation inside of me. Dagger or not I can only expect that Lilith is a force to be reckoned with. I nod with my chin high and turn, heading in the other direction. I can feel the dark stare of her auspicious eyes beating into the back of my head, but I let it go, quickening my pace until I reach the curve of the castle walls and hurriedly disappear out of her sight.
I spend most of my day going over what I read about the underworld back home. The mortal world only knows so much about a realm very few have the privilege of visiting while alive. A knock sounds upon the door and Willem steps inside. The familiar weight of the dagger against my thigh keeps me from panicking. Even so, the enormous reaper’s scowl quickens my pulse.
It was strange to think that I had once thought of him as handsome. Now I know that his beauty is no more than a facade to hide his treachery.
“Kane requests your presence in the dining hall,” he sneers. “Frankly, I had hoped you were on the menu, but alas…”
His sigh of pure disinterest grates against my patience, but I close my book and walk beside him to the dining room. Willem pauses just outside of the door and I turn to him. “You’re not coming?”
“I wasn’t invited.” He stalks away before I can ask why.
I shrug my shoulders and ease the door open, the weight of the intricately etched wood heavy on my small frame. The dining room is as beautiful as I remember from visiting it my first night in the underworld. Red and black ornate decor glimmers in the light of the candelabras. A smile tugs at the corners of my lips as I circle the table, taking in the sight of the elaborate setting. The dual fireplaces bathe the room in heat and a drop of sweat slithers down my spine, getting lost in the fabric of my gown. The door opens and the servants scatter, hiding out of sight, but not too far in case their master needs them.
Every shadow in the room seems drawn to Kane as he takes careful steps inside of the dining room. His brow furrows when he looks at me, but there’s a softness in his eyes that I’ve only seen in rare instances. My eyes trail up the length of his body, appreciating the flex of each muscle beneath his clothing as he takes a seat at the head of the table. The chair beside him pulls out with a flick of his wrist. My feet carry me across the room of their own accord and I join him. Those tantalizing black orbs flicker over my face and down the exposed column of my neck.
A phantom touch prickles against my skin and my eyes snap to his. He licks his sensual lips and I dig my fingers into the armrest of my chair. “I wasn’t expecting an invitation. I thought you and Willem were still discussing things-”
“I don’t wish to talk about that right now,” he interrupts.
I immediately look away, feeling the bite of his words. Reaching up, I push at the perfectly polished silver fork atop the napkin. “I saw Lilith today.”
A small grunt shakes from his throat but nothing more. My eyes shift over to him and back again, wanting to so badly to talk about her, but fearful of his response. It’s a thorn in our very delicately structured relationship, and I know will continue to be unless I release the burden from my shoulders.
Staring at the indentation the prongs of the fork leave in my small fingertips as I nervously press each one, I muster a bit of spirit, the same I have used countless times since taking on this life. “She was coming to see you in your office. She believes there is love between you still. She is determined to re-spark that flame.”
Silence sits dank and thick between us and I don’t even dare to let the air from my lungs. Seconds pass, feeling like years, and rising from just a whisper in the wind to a full thundering roll, Kane begins to bellow, leaning back in his chair. With a furl to my brow I look up in both amusement and fear, never having seen him laugh quite like this before. I can’t tell whether it is a laugh of beguilement or one that is quickly followed by the wrath I am becoming more accustomed to with each passing day.
He reaches forward, gently gripping my chin, lifting my eyes to his. The smile still lingers on his lips. “And to think, I took you as callow in the ways of women. But here you are, treading with a delicate nature but still making your point known. I like this.”
As he drops my chin from his warm fingertips, my cheeks blush slightly and I look away, feeling caught in my own deceptive tactic to push the subject further. Kane looks up at one of the servants standing close to the door and rolls his wrist in the air. His eyes return to the side of my face, and I catch another light smirk on his lips. “There is no need to worry about Lilith. Our time is long past and it will stay there. I do have to say, jealousy is an interesting look for you. Shall I call ahead before we leave and warn them of your woman scorned sensibilities?”
I can’t help but smile, shaking my head. “No, that won’t be necessary.”
My cheeks blush violently and I tear my gaze away to stare down at my plate. Servants begin to dish out portions of succulent lamb and various sides as I struggle to find my voice in the sea of my embarrassment. With our plates full, I poke at the dish, waiting for him to take the first bite. Everything he does, every movement that he makes is persuasive and alluring. I find myself almost entranced even with the dominant way he chews his food.
We sit in silence as we eat, the only sound coming from the light pattering of the servants feet as they fill and refill his wine glass. During dinners back home, if I were caught in the silence of strangers, my mind would create a sea of amusement to keep my hands from fidgeting. But the silence between Kane and myself is anything but awkward or unnerving. There’s a seduction to it, one that keeps my ankles crossed and my thighs pressing firmly together.
“Let’s talk about you.” Kane’s head tilts to the side as he looks up at me.
I’m caught off guard, nearly choking on my tender bite of lamb. I reach down, taking my napkin from my lap and blot my lips. “Me?”
“Yes, you.” Amusement flashes across his handsome face. “Tell me about your childhood. The intimate details of growing up. Try maybe… the first time you ever kissed someone.”
A scoff of nervousness erupts from me as my eyes shift to him and back to
my plate over and over again. “With the excitation your life brings to the table I fear you will be nothing but bored at my stories of growing up.”
Kane’s eyes narrow, knowing with certainty that I am attempting to divert the conversation. Instead of calling me out on it, he leans back in his high back chair, lifting his glass of wine to his lips. “Don’t be silly. I’m sure you were inundated with adventure and lustful men chasing the demure and secretive Princess.”
I have to force myself to swallow, closing my eyes in an attempt to divert at least a small amount of my deepening embarrassment. “You were my first kiss.” Humiliation causes my voice to crack and the redness on my cheeks deepens.
Very slowly I glance up at him, unsure of what response I will find. As usual he is steady in expression, surprise not even entering the equation. “That must have been boring. No trysts of love, no sneaking off beneath the vibrance of your world to dip your toe in the forbidden? The world must seem awfully big to you.”
He has no idea just how overwhelming things can get. Or maybe he does. His character and stature gives a resonating glow of experience and fearlessness. I can’t imagine there is much more than that.
He finishes his glass of wine and snaps his fingers, waiting a moment as the servant hurries over, putting his head down and leaning toward Kane’s lips. Kane whispers in his ear, and the servant nods, keeping his eyes down before running off. With a swift gallant move, Kane wipes his mouth and tosses the napkin on his plate, reaching out to me as he stands. I glance at his hand for a moment in apprehension before fastidiously placing my silverware on the plate and sliding my fingers into his palm.