by Bailey Dark
We reach the edge of Yolnheim as the moon rises over Zculth. “We should set camp. Willem, you’ll take watch?”
I can sense he needs time on his own. He gives me a tight-lipped smile and I know he’s grateful for the privacy.
Briar and I set camp, but forgo the fire in favor of safety. If more Navarre are nearby, they might smell the flames or see the smoke. A yellow moon hangs high above our heads in an ocean of navy, surrounded by twinkling stars. I lay back against the trunk of a tree.
Briar sits nearby, flipping her dagger around with skilled fingers. She seems less tense. Maybe it’s the reality settling in, the knowing she has to be strong. Maybe its shock.
I point at the dagger as it spirals through her fingers. “Do you know the origins of that dagger?”
She looks up at me, cheeks a pretty shade of pink. “No. It was my mothers, but that’s all I know. It’s probably the most important thing I’ve ever owned, and yet it’s a mystery to me. My mother…” She takes a moment to gulp down the pain I feel surge through her. “My mother didn’t seem like the kind of woman that would have such a weapon, but she did, and when she…it became mine.”
I walk over next to Briar and squat down, watching the shimmering blade of the dagger as she keeps her eyes down. She seems tense, almost bending away from me, but I ignore it. “Lux was the Goddess of Light.”
Briar glances over at me. “I thought your mother was the Goddess of Light.”
I nod. “She was, but this was long before my mother inherited the title. Lux had a child with a mortal man and left the child in the care of its father. She knew what she had done was forbidden, and she attempted to separate herself from him in order to keep him a secret and keep him safe. Later on in life, she fell in love with Dragaem, all mighty and all powerful.”
“Talk about bad taste,” Briar chuckles to herself.
My mouth twitches into a smile and back again. “It gets worse. When Dragaem vowed to enslave all of humanity, Lux thought of her child. She knew she had to kill her lover to protect her son and so she forged a dagger capable of killing a god. It was the only one ever created and she guarded it closely, much like you.”
Briar glances over at me, our proximity melting a bit of her defenses. I reach out and run my finger along the side of the dagger. “She fought Dragaem in a massive battle and ended up killing him, but not without getting mortally wounded in the process. No one has ever been able to fully trace the weapon and it is said that the dagger was passed down through her mortal descendants.”
Briar grips her dagger handle and stares at the blade, her brow furled. “I’ve never heard of Lux.”
I lean back and stretch my arms out wide, feeling the pain surge within my body. “Not many have. She was erased from the lexicon for what she did to Dragaem. The dagger you hold in your hands is the one the goddess forged to kill her lover, and the only physical evidence of her ever existing, besides her mortal descendants.”
My words cause confusion, and something else I cannot pinpoint, to boil inside of us.
She lets the dagger fall, her stare filtering off in the distance for a moment. When her thoughts return to the present, she looks over at me. Her head shakes in disbelief. “I don’t understand. Why would my mother have such an artifact?”
Chapter 7
Briar
Zculth is just as desolate as the books describe.
My eyes take in the sight of the large black stones that jut out of the barren landscape. Ash falls from the vibrant sky like snow. Gray stone, the color of my eyes, stretches as far as the eye can see. Strange symbols are carved into some of the sharp rocks, but I can’t read them.
Willem seems more tense than usual, his eyes shifting around, his hands white knuckling the reins of his horse. After seeing his reaction to the rift, I almost pity him. Both he and Kane have made offers to heal my wound, a small trinket of the battle, but it was healing fine on its own. I look down at my hand and barely see the red blotch that was there an hour or two ago.
“What do the symbols mean?” I ask Kane.
He seems eager to teach me. “Zculth is the burial ground of the Reapers.”
The grave tone of Kane’s voice and the rigid line of Willem’s spine tells me they’ve lost a lot of men. “What happened? Why are there so many?”
“I told you we met on the battlefield and that Willem was there to reap his first soul, but I didn’t tell you that it was a war between the Nephilim and the Reapers. For a reaper to ferry the soul of one of their own to the underworld is...it’s difficult.”
Kane avoids my stare and turns his attention back to the uneven terrain. I look to Willem and reach out to touch his arm. He flinches away, but not out of spite. I don’t think he meant to. A muscle ticks in his jaw and I reach out once more. For a minute I think my touch soothes him, but it isn’t long before he retracts his arm from my reach. “I don’t need your pity.”
“I don’t pity you, Willem. I barely tolerate you. But...I know how it is to lose someone. Not on this scale, obviously, but I still sympathize. These were your comrades, your brothers, and losing them must have been terrible.” I hold his gaze longer than usual, hoping he sees the sincerity I try to convey in my words.
He moves ahead of me before looking back over his shoulder with a sullen expression on his face. “The Nephilim were once Death’s army. Drogaem commanded legions of them until he died. Without his cruelty fueling their powers, they grew weaker. When Kane inherited the throne, he enforced the strict laws that forbid them from soul-leeching. But it wasn’t enough.”
I know firsthand how true Willem’s statement is. It isn’t enough to restrict the actions of Nephilim. They have the ability to kill even Kane if they collect enough souls. But then again, I hold the same power without as much bloodshed. Perhaps not bloodshed, but more heartbreak. I’m not arrogant enough to think that Kane might love me. However, it’s clear he cares. I see the way he looks at me now and it causes my stomach to do silly little flips.
Kane looks back at us. “We need to find a place to make camp before nightfall.”
“I can see the horizon,” I announce. “Maybe we should travel through the night, I’m not sure I can sleep here.”
Willem and Kane share another of their secret looks. I cock my head expectantly and wait for one of them to say something. I’m tired of being the third man out, trying to decipher their secret language on my own. I am traveling with them and in just as much danger, the last fight cemented that fact for me.
“We can’t travel through Zculth at night,” Willem says finally. “We were delayed because of the demons, but we were hoping to have made it through this region by now.”
“What happens after nightfall?” I feel the cold tendrils of fear once more. Chill-bumps appear on my skin and I pull my cowl lower, using it to shield my emotions as much as to shield my body from the chill in the air.
“There have been times when the restless souls of the fallen reapers buried here rise from the grave,” Kane grumbles. Willem leaves his horse and walks over to a monument as Kane continues, stopping by my side. “We need to pass through one of the worst burial sites and then we can make camp on the other side, but it’s important that you stay quiet and move quickly.”
I press my lips together and follow Kane and Willem. The strange chill gets stronger as we move through the graveyard. I know that human souls are naturally drawn to reapers once their bodies die. I also know that there’s something about the mortal soul that’s intoxicating to the Nephilim. My eyes never stray far from Willem as I replay his story in my head. Once we reach the other side of the graveyard, Kane helps me from the saddle, the cut on my hand burning and my body tired from the fight.
I grab his arm to keep him from moving away. “Willem told me that the Nephilim and Reapers fought during Drogaem’s reign. Why would the Reapers continue to serve Death if he was responsible for their fallen brothers?”
“The Reapers and Nephilim are closely related,” Kane
reveals. “Their powers are even very similar, but it’s their hunger for more that always ends things badly. When I ascended, the Reapers were more willing to live peacefully than the Nephilim.”
“How were the Nephilim when Drogaem ruled?”
Kane swipes a hand through his hair and frowns. “They roamed freely, doing whatever they wanted without anyone to tell them it was wrong. They got used to that freedom.”
My eyes shift toward Willem. “And then you took it from them.”
“Precisely,” he replies with an air of boredom.
I ignore his attitude, needing to know the roots of it all. Kane will think it’s because I live here now, for me it’s to understand the deeper motives of the silent stalker that Kane hasn’t realized travels with us. “So, were the Reapers upset that they were still treated differently than the Nephilim? Do they resent living in servitude to the throne, I mean?”
“There aren’t many left, but I suppose it’s possible.” He walks away then, leaving me with more questions than answers as always.
My suspicions of Willem only grow stronger the more I know about his kind. For all I know his plan had been to befriend the new Death all along in hopes of stealing whatever artifact Kane is after. I watch Willem as he attempts to start a fire, the ash continuing to fall. A loud howl breaks through the silence.
My eyes shoot over to Kane and he runs straight for me. He scoops me up into his arms and commands Willem to abandon the horses. I cling to his shoulders as he summons his wings. He takes into the sky without warning. A scream nearly slips past my lips, but I bury my face into Kane’s shoulder. I let his scent soothe my worries, but the sound of flapping wings cause my eyes to lift once more.
Enormous, phantom Reapers with skeletal features and a nightmarish smile on their faces chase us across the night sky. Kane holds me close to his chest and the rapid beat of his heart does little to quell my concerns. I reach for my dagger and hold it tight. One of the Reaper’s grows closer and stretches out it’s long claws, aiming for Kane’s back. I muster the courage in me and slash with my blade. Moonlight glistens upon the sharp metal as it cuts through the ghostly hand.
As the hand falls into ash, I watch below, the horses left to the Reapers bidding. I turn my vision back to the Reaper behind us, watching it swivel back and forth, screeching wildly. It fall back behind the others but they continue to race toward us. I would give anything to deafen the sounds around me. The screaming Reapers and the calls of fear of the horses bears down hard on my heart. I grip tightly to Kane’s shoulder as swerves and maneuvers through the air.
Willem and Kane slow once we reach a river racing below us. I pick up my head and look around, not understanding. The Reapers continue to race toward us, gaining on us rapidly.
“Hurry! They’re right behind us!” I scream.
Kane lands on his feet on the other side of the rushing water. He sets me down, but I move to stand behind him and Willem. The reapers race along the ground straight for us but stop just short of the water. Their glowing eyes squint with hatred before they blow away like ash in the wind.
I drop to my knees and press a hand to my chest. “I thought you said we could make camp once we leave the graveyard.”
“They rarely ever leave the burial sites,” Willem rasps. His breath is almost as labored as mine.
He stretches his wings and his feathers rustle. Now that I know what his true nature is, I see the resemblance between him and the Nephilim. Part of me even wonders if they were once reapers who were corrupted by the temptation of consuming mortal souls.
Kane kneels beside me. His cold palm lifts my face. “Did they get you? I saw you reach for your blade. How close did they get?”
“I...I was protecting you,” I gasp.
His eyes widen and he stares at me for several heartbeats. My hand moves up to grip his wrist. “The reaper reached out and I was afraid. I wasn’t brave, but I know I had to do something.” I hear Willem’s footsteps retreat and I brush a stray strand of hair from Kane’s brow, meeting his unwavering gaze. “I don’t know what happens when Death dies, but I don’t want to find out anytime soon.”
The honesty behind those words hurt more than anything. Am I too weak to carry out my father’s orders? No. I just haven’t had the right opportunity. My hand falls from his face and I stand up. Kane places his hand possessively around my waist and I bite back a moan. It feels too good to have his hands on my body after everything we’ve faced so far. But the secrets between us still keep him from acting on his urges no matter how desperately I wish he will.
“We need to talk,” he tosses over his shoulder as he walks away. “But after we set camp.”
I nod dumbly, feeling numb inside despite the profound sense of belonging that comes over me whenever Kane is near. It’s all an illusion, of course, part of his little game. We’ll talk like we always do. He’ll give me the answers he feels I’m worthy of, the answers he thinks I’m able to handle and nothing more. Willem strips off his clothes and I turn my head. When I look back, he walks through the water until it’s up to his waist.
There’s so much pain in his eyes. It matches the old battle scars that pepper the muscles on his back. The pain he has endured does not justify his betrayal. Kane gave him a place by his side and his friendship without asking much in return. Between the three of us, there’s a chance Kane is the least guilty. With all his insults and rudeness, Kane is a man of honor and he’s well respected among his peers even if it’s out of fear. There’s a reason his strength and darkness captivate women like Lilith...women like me.
I pull myself away and from the water’s edge and help Kane search for a way to make a fire. There’s very little along the edges of Zculth aside from the same ash and stone laden throughout, but we manage to find a few pieces of petrified wood. I kneel beside him, watching as his hands strike two rocks together to create sparks. It feels like a wildly appropriate metaphor for our relationship. Two cold, unchanging things that come together to feel the brief, hot spark of life. Kane looks up at me as though he can read my thoughts.
Sometimes I suspect he can.
His mouth slants in a lopsided grin and I squeeze my thighs together. The lecherous look in his gaze is not unwelcome. Kane licks his lips and whispers, “Let’s meet in our dreams.”
His words are filled with dark promises. While he stares into my eyes, Kane flicks his wrist and the sparks we make ignite a brilliant fire. The heat prickles against my skin and I watch his tongue dart out to wet his lips, lips I yearn to feel on mine.
“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” he asks in a deep growl. “You’re imagining how it will feel to have my lips in other places, how it will feel when my hands finally stroke your flesh to a climax that will brand my touch on your senses for eternity.”
I swallow and his eyes drop to the muscles of my throat. That teasing tongue runs over his fangs and I feel the blood rushing through my veins. His dark eyes flash with so much hunger that it steals my breath away.
He leans closer, glancing up at Willem in the water for a moment and then back at me. It’s as if we are doing something forbidden, but it makes his words all the more enticing. “Tell me, Briar, do you think of my kiss when you’re alone in your bed? Do you envision me stealing into your room to claim you?”
My mouth falls open just a bit but no words come out. He is just inches from me, and my chest is clamped by the seduction he whispers. I see the edges of his lips curl up for a moment before he leans in and kisses my cheek very gently. “Soon.”
With that he stands and walks over to a stone, sitting down in front of it and leaning back. My mouth quickly shuts and my eyes narrow. He looks back over his shoulder and chuckles, waving his arm at me. Pursing my lips, I shake my head, muttering to myself. “One way or another, he will get what he has coming to him.”
Chapter 8
Kane
Briar and I sit side by side as we watch Willem stand in the water, the heat between us only simm
ering a touch. It has become expected between us, and though tantalizing in thought, unwelcome in the current state of things.
The reaper souls continue to appear from time to time as if they’re protecting their resting place from our reckless travels. My shoulder brushes against Briar and she removes her cowl. I toy with a lock of her hair. The adorable little pout on her face is more charming than I wish to admit.
She glances over at the lock of hair. “I’ve always been teased about my hair. It’s too wild, too dark, too everything.”
“I like it.” I lift the gentle wave to my nose and smell the vanilla, lilac, honey, and the faint scent of clean sweat.
The journey has been rough, but Briar remains as beautiful as ever. I let her hair slip through my fingers and turn toward her, my chest against her arms. Briar grows flustered, ducking her head slightly, but not hiding from me like she used to. Her lashes flutter against the tops of her cheeks, pupils blown with lust.
“What did you want to talk about?” she asks, trying to divert the pull between us.
“About this journey and what it really means.” This chases the desire from her gaze and I bite the inside of my cheek to keep my disappointment in check.
Briar leans away from me to clear her head and it clears mine as well. Having her near is dangerous, but I want more. I shake my head to dislodge those thoughts and clear my throat. “Remember how I told you once before that the laws of inheritance are different now, that it’s no longer determined by blood?”
“I remember,” she nods.
“Well, while the title and the throne come with the inheritance, there’s something else that bestows the true powers of Death to the ruler of the underworld. I’m a god, yes, but Drogaem’s crown is where the true power of this realm lies.” I watch her reaction.