Stolas: A Dark Soul Series Novel

by Randi Cooley Wilson

  “Do you live with him?” I ask, fascinated by their relationship.

  “Our life is a private matter.” Her tone is not mean, just factual.

  “As someone who is so spiritual, how can you love him, knowing what he does?”

  She dips her chin. “Love does not categorize. Or look down upon those who have dark souls. Sometimes, your path in life is easy and clear. And sometimes, it’s murky and littered with obstacles.” She gives me a knowing smile. “Search your heart. What does it desire the most?”

  I fall silent before my admission. “Stone. I want to save him from the darkness.”

  “You are human. You cannot perform miracles.”

  “Are you sure about that?” I tease, and she frowns.

  “One must save one’s self before they can help others,” she counters. “I am a Samurai, therefore I strategize like a general. If you could, how would you save him?”

  “With your help to understand my visions, I could leverage the prophetic knowledge they bring me, and perhaps use it as a bargaining chip in some form to save him?”

  Kagami’s expression grows hard. “You are naïve, child. In this world, you don’t make deals with the devil. You should not ever bargain with evil; they never hold up to their end.”

  “They will, if I give them everything they want—at least, I hope they will.” I reply, indecision lingering in my mind.

  Her gaze slides to the gardens. “And what if your soul is the price?”

  Stone

  When I walk into Lev’s office, he’s sitting behind his desk. The wind whips and howls outside. All of which he ignores. He’s used to it, living in the second Circle. He nods toward the door, and I close it behind me.

  Taking a seat in one of the chairs, I lean forward, placing my arms on my legs, and clasping my hands in front of me.

  Lev arches an eyebrow, waiting.

  “What are you doing?” I ask.

  “Trying to figure out a way to abolish worms from existence.”

  I hold back a laugh. “You do know that you’ve spent centuries afraid of this thing.”

  “This thing, is supposed to be the one thing in existence that can end mine.”

  “You’re obsessed.”

  “Speaking of obsessions,” he begins. “Where’s the mortal?”

  “With Kagami, working on fine-tuning her gift of sight.”

  Lev tosses his lighter on the desk and leans forward. “What are you doing with her, Stolas? And I highly suggest you don’t lie to me. I can’t protect you if I don’t know the facts.”

  I swallow. Contemplating my next words and actions. “Since when do you care who I am fucking?” I counter.

  He grins, leaning back in his own seat. “If you were just fucking the mortal, you wouldn’t be sitting in front of me with a shit-eating grin on your face.”

  “I thought you and Vassago wanted me to bed her.” I shrug. “You know, to get her to trust me so she would willingly help my father with her visions?”

  “Fuck,” he breathes out, searching my face. “The change in your eyes, your composure . . .” He shakes his head in disbelief. “Do you want to keep her in your life?”

  “I don’t think I have a choice at this point.” I knew it wouldn’t take my friend long to figure it out. I don’t have to tell him the truth; he already knows it.

  “Then you better learn to hide those fucking emotions. I can see straight through you.”

  “There are no emotions.”

  “Bullshit! It looks like you slathered yourself in honey, then rolled around in a big-ass pile of emotion.”

  I remain silent because he’s right. I need to get this shit under control.

  “Do you think she’s strong enough to handle all this? Your father? The Circles? Your future?” He pins me with a hard glare, reminding me of what’s at stake here.

  “I honestly don’t know.”

  “You’d better fucking figure it out, Stolas. And fast. Because she will be the first thing Lucifer will use against you. He’ll leverage her to get you to do whatever the fuck he wants. Do I need to remind you of how hard you’ve fought for the power and position you have?” His eyes glaze over with so much emotion, it almost knocks me on my ass.

  “I’ll do the right thing. I will.”

  “You wouldn’t know the right thing if it slapped you in the lovesick face,” Vassago states from the doorway. His dark glare slides between the two of us.

  “Are you ever going to fucking follow protocol and speak only when permitted to?”

  “Perfect timing. As always,” Lev greets.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask, bored.

  “I told him to join us.”

  “Why?” I look between the two of them.

  Vassago places his hands in the pockets of his dress slacks as he strolls over to us. Leaning on the desk, he leaves one foot on the floor, and bends the other leg casually, draping it off the top of the desk.

  “I can feel her coursing through your bloodstream,” he growls. “You’ve linked.”

  “I’m surprised you noticed, since you’ve been so busy fucking Lore.” I wink.

  Fury crosses my brother’s face at my comment, and Lev is immediately standing between us, preventing what would most likely become a physical altercation.

  “Let’s all take a breath here,” he calms. “Believe it or not, Vas is here to help.”

  My cold gaze falls onto my friend. “Did you fucking tell him?”

  Lev holds up his palms. “No, I didn’t. But hey, thanks for the confidence, friend.”

  “Father told Lilith,” Vassago says. “He smelled your blood on her at dinner. She told me.”

  Both sets of eyes are on me as I sit back, relaxed, and roll my eyes. “I don’t see why this is an issue. I thought this is what everyone wanted—Hope tethered to the Circles. She chose me. Now, father gets what he wants . . . his own personal fortune teller. And through a blood link, I can keep tabs on the oracle. See her visions. Make sure she isn’t deceiving us,” I lie and Lev frowns at me, knowing the truth.

  “That isn’t why he wants her, Stolas,” Vassago spits out.

  A disturbing and unsettling feeling washes over me. “What the fuck does that mean?”

  “It means, while you’ve been playing house, you’ve failed to see what the actual fuck Lucifer wants with her,” Vassago bites out.

  “Which is?”

  “Her death,” he states simply.

  A pit opens in my stomach, so wide, it threatens to swallow me whole.

  “That makes no sense,” Lev argues. “Hope can read dark souls. The only one of her kind. I thought he wants to leverage her gift to gain alliances throughout the underworlds?”

  Vassago’s dark eyes are still locked on mine. “It’s convenient, isn’t it? Never throughout history has there been an oracle, touched by the divine, who can read dark souls. Except her.”

  “Are you saying her gifts have been falsified?” Lev prods.

  “No. She can read our auras and souls. The gift was bestowed upon her, for her to be enticing. It’s why the divine chose a female. As a trap, knowing father the way they do.”

  “A trap for what exactly?” Lev questions, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it.

  “Stolas.”

  My heart kicks up a notch, but other than that, I remain calm.

  I don’t want to give away that I already know this story, thanks to Hope’s vision.

  “It would appear that Tazia made a deal with the divine council. She agreed to let Stolas fall with father—be his pureblood heir—thinking that someday, his divine blood would rise to the surface and he would turn on the Circles and father. He would then align with the divine and peacefully unite Heaven and Hell, after of course, ending father’s existence.”

  Lev exhales a long cloud of smoke.

  “Hope was created to alert Stolas of his role,” Vassago continues. “To protect him. Knowing father’s greed and penchant for beautiful women, they knew
he’d seek her out to use her to attain more power.”

  The sick feeling in my stomach intensifies with every menacing thought crossing my mind. How the fuck does he know? Did Hope tell him? Only she and I shared that vision.

  “Where did you hear this?” My voice is even, unflustered.

  “His whore. Lucifer told her when she was bedding him,” Vassago answers.

  “Lilith.”

  Lev frowns at me. “You already knew,” he accuses. “Did Hope share this with you?”

  “She did.”

  “You’ve known all this time, Stolas?”

  “I have.”

  “When the fuck were you going to tell us?” Lev snarls.

  “I wasn’t.”

  He throws his hands in the air. “What in the ever-loving fu—”

  “Lucifer’s known about this the entire time?” I ask Vassago, eliciting a nod. “He sent you to seek her out, and me to bring her back. He chose me because he knew she would tell me. He’s testing me. Wanting to know where my loyalties lie.”

  Lev points his half of cigarette at me. “I fucking told you. She’s your death sentence.”

  I exhale and shift my gaze to the churning waters outside the window. “Why kill her though? What does he gain by doing that?”

  Vassago stands, cutting off my view of the outside as he pins me with a hard glare.

  “War.”

  ETERNAL PAIN

  Stone

  WAR.

  Of course.

  This isn’t about me. Or Hope.

  It’s about Lucifer’s ongoing obsession with revenge.

  I try to take in a deep breath to calm myself down. My mind is running through all the angles, scenarios, and possibilities of what Vassago, Leviathan, and I have decided to do.

  A quiet knock at the door pulls my focus as Hope slides into the studio. She looks around and when her gaze lands on the drafting table, she blushes. And I fucking love it.

  Her ability to be both tough while also vulnerable is very attractive.

  “Hey,” she whispers.

  I take another swig of tequila and eye her. “Hey yourself. How was training with Kagami today?”

  “Good. I think I’m going to enjoy my time with her.”

  I snort and take another sip because there will be no more time with her.

  Cobalt eyes focus on the bottle. “Rough day?”

  I motion around me. “Rough existence.”

  “Right,” she exhales and approaches me.

  When she’s in front of me, she steps between my legs and takes the bottle from my hands, placing it on the table next to us. My fingers wrap around her waist and I drop my forehead onto her stomach. Within seconds, her fingers are running through my hair, calming me.

  I need to stay away from her. It’s the right thing to do. I’m no good for her. She looks at me as a savior, her hero, when I am anything but those things. “I can’t protect you anymore,” I admit quietly.

  Silence.

  Just when I am about to pull away and look at her, her voice fills the air.

  “That’s okay. I’ll protect us both instead.”

  I’ve never worried about anything in my life. And now, I’m obsessively worried my father will take her away from me. There isn’t a chance in hell I’d ever let him. She’s mine.

  Fear does funny things to the walls we build.

  She cups my cheeks, lifting my face up.

  I peer at her from under my lashes.

  Hope rubs her thumbs under my eyes. “You look tired,” she rasps.

  I admire her for a moment, before sitting straighter on the stool and tugging her into my lap. She straddles me, holding onto my shoulders. Slowly, I turn my face into her neck, nuzzling my nose along her jawline, wrapping my arms around her waist.

  In one swift move, I stand up and she tightens her legs around me. Carrying her to my bedroom, I kick the door shut behind me with my boot. Once she’s laying on the bed, I crawl over her, supporting my weight with my arms on either side of her face. My mouth is inches from hers.

  “I don’t want to talk tonight.”

  She smirks and I gently brush my lips back and forth over hers.

  “Who said I wanted to talk?” she whispers.

  My lips move down her neck, and linger over her pulse; wanting to feel her life beat against them one last time before I let her go.

  It is my life or hers.

  I. Choose. Hers.

  I inhale, drunk on her scent, as my lips take her sweet ones with a carnal, desperate need.

  Carefully, I drop my weight onto her, pinning her body to the bed. My mouth moves urgently against hers, like I’m chasing after something I’m desperate to claim. Her hands reach around my neck, holding me tight against her.

  A growl escapes my mouth and my hands grip her face as she arches up to meet me.

  I pull away and she reaches for my shirt, pulling it off in one quick movement.

  Dark eyes roam over the mark of the damned on my chest.

  “Why does it feel like you’re saying goodbye to me, Stone?”

  Because . . . I am.

  My mind will be forever branded by her. My heart forever broken. My future, immorally damned. The minute I walk away from her, I’ll be destroying the last part of my divine soul.

  Mortals have trouble understanding that love and hate are the same feeling, just experienced under different circumstances. The passion and pain in each is the same. It’s only the occurrences surrounding the emotion that is different.

  Gabriel walks into the candle-lit chamber, and both Vassago and Lev stiffen. They fight off their normal reaction to his divine presence of needing to either destroy him, or run. Gabriel and I have been meeting in this chamber of historical books for centuries. It’s private. No one else knows.

  “You’ve broken my trust by bringing them here,” he states.

  “Shut the fuck up, archangel, or I will torture you,” Vassago threatens.

  I lift my hand to my brother, quieting him.

  “I need your help,” I reply calmly. “They are here as allies.”

  “It must be a cold day in the Circles if you are coming to me, Stone.”

  “Sometimes, a soul is desperate enough to take drastic measures.”

  His violet eyes search mine, assessing my motives. “I’m listening.”

  “Lucifer knows about your interference with Tazia. He is also aware that Hope was sent by the divine to enlighten and manipulate me to help in your little peace-treaty scheme.”

  “There is no scheme. The expectation was that you would embrace your divine blood and work with the divine council to secure peace for both our gates,” he announces.

  “Your treaty loophole, otherwise known as Hope Annandale, is now in danger,” I continue. “She’s served her purpose, by baiting my father and enlightening me. I’ve chosen to accept my birthright within the Circles, by my father’s side.”

  “What does this have to do with me?”

  “Hope needs protection and a divine safe haven. As a gesture of good faith, if you vow to keep her soul safe, I will keep a tight rein on my father, and the divine will have this dark soul’s eternal gratitude. Is that enough?”

  Gabriel grins, as if he’s amused at the thought. “And if I don’t keep her safe?”

  I step toward him. “I will come for you and your golden gates myself.”

  The archangel falls quiet, contemplating as he looks around the chamber. The candlelight bounces off his golden wings, leaving shadows on the old books. “In our actions, we have always tried to accomplish peace. No divine soul should suffer due to our inability to secure our own gates. I have received approval to accept your offer.”

  My heart jumps a notch, though I hide it well. “I will be taking her back to Shadowbrook. We can control the environment there, having spent some time inside the facility,” I announce.

  “You want me to guard her in a psychiatric facility?” he asks, confused.

  “I don�
��t want you fucking near her at all, archangel,” I snap.

  “Watch your language, Stone. My favor is short,” he counters.

  “He’ll stop cursing, when you stop insulting him with every breath you take,” Vassago intervenes, and I don’t correct the statement. It’s fucking true.

  “There is only one soul with whom I trust her protection with,” I expand.

  He holds my gaze, knowing exactly what I mean.

  “That is an impossible request—as you are aware,” he argues.

  “Vassago is a Seeker, therefore, my brother will seek her out.”

  “What you are doing is dangerous,” Gabriel warns.

  I shrug. “I’m the Devil’s son, would you expect any less?”

  “Well,” Lev clasps his hands together, “this was fun.”

  Violet eyes pin me. “You love her?”

  I try not to flinch. “She is a mortal, with a divine soul.”

  “And yet—you come to me, seeking her protection.”

  “The divine have touched her. She’s your problem.”

  Gabriel dips his chin to me. “You have my vow of protection for Hope.”

  “Thank you.”

  Once he leaves, I finally exhale. Now there is nothing left to do but take my place.

  It’s time to bring my nightmare to life and wake the beast; do what I was born to do.

  Accept my birthright and become Prince Stolas, Demon of Darkness.

  RIGHT ROAD

  Hope

  THE DARKNESS RECEDES FROM MY mind, giving way to light. I slowly blink my lids several times before they remain open, adjusting to the room. An odd tingle skates across the nape of my neck and I shiver, chilled to the bone.

  A flutter of consciousness tickles my brain, sharpening with each second that ticks by. Every muscle burns, as if I’ve been heavily drugged. I look down and see my body stretched out lengthwise on a hospital bed, metal roller bars on either side.

  The thin hospital gown I’m wearing is not enough to warm my cold limbs. I twist my head, looking around the stark white room, covered from floor to ceiling with pads.

  I try to push myself up, but the clanking of metal on metal stops me. My body seizes with fear, leaving me unable to move as panic rips through me. Thick leather straps encircle my wrists and ankles, holding me to the bed. I tug and the chains bang against the rails, as I fight against the restraints. My anxiety rises and my breathing becomes labored.