Page 113

Story: Devoured By Shadows

Hadeon’s power bloomed, pressing against her shadows. For a moment, she almost lost her grip on them. But she held firm, keeping the prince pinned on the floor. Her abilities surpassed his in sheer power, but she had a long way to go to learn to control her new magic.

“I’m nothing like him.”

She laughed humorlessly before releasing him with a flick of her wrist.

What was the point? The gateway was sealed shut. There was nothing she could do for the shadow fae and no way to open it again. He’d killed them without ending their lives, himself. Her shadows retreated into the ground. “All fae are the same—selfish liars. If only there was a way to force you to tell the truth for once in your life.”

For the first time, she wondered whether this meant the Everdark and other greater demons were also trapped in the Abyss.

Blood plopped onto the floor from where her dark thorns had sunk into Hadeon’s skin and wings. But he didn’t flinch or make any indication that he felt anything as he stood.

“I’m not your enemy, Enchantress,” he said as he moved to her side, towering over her.

“But now, you’re mine,” came a voice from behind her.

Arabella blinked, her mind not fully registering the words as the prince went from looming above her to falling to the ground. She watched in stunned surprise as Jessamine swept a foot beneath him before landing an elbow on his chest. His wings splayed as he crashed backward onto the stone. He reached for where his sword had fallen beside him, but Jessamine was already there, her arm coming down on his. The blade skittered out of reach. He lashed out, trying to strike Jessamine, but she was a moment ahead of each of his strikes, blocking one and then the next.

“You shouldn’t touch me,” he hissed as Jessamine straddled him. “You won’t like what happens next.”

Rage filled Jessamine’s gaze as she held a dagger to his throat. “Lucky for me, I won’t have to learn. Not when you’re going to be dead. This is what will happen to all fae who are so obscenely selfish. You locked away innocent people in an underrealm forever. Fuck you, and fuck your court.”

He tried to block her, to force her back. But again, she merely swatted his hands out of the way each time with the side of her arm, garbed in leathers.

“How did you do that?” he grunted. “It’s like you knew what I was going to do before I did.”

Jessamine’s lips pursed before she schooled her features into neutrality. “It’s nothing you need to concern yourself with, fae prick.”

As Jessamine plunged the blade toward Hadeon’s chest, a sudden power bloomed outside of their cell. It was at thatmoment Arabella wondered just where they were—and why the exit from the Abyss was in this place.

Starlight lashed out from the hall beyond the bars. Jessamine’s blade flew backward, coming to a stop in the hand of Genoveva, Queen of the Twilight Court.

“I wasn’t expecting visitors.” The queen studied the dagger with obvious distaste. Behind her, there were two dozen fae guards, all heavily armed. “But you can imagine my surprise when I felt the gateway open—one that hasn’t been used in an age.”

Arabella nearly groaned.

The gateway leading out of the Abyss wasn’t in just any dungeon. It was within the castle of the Twilight Court.

Of-fucking-course.

Jessamine didn’t move from where she straddled Hadeon. Instead, her hand was already reaching for another blade inside her jacket.

“I wouldn’t,” the queen said, not looking at her. “I won’t spare you a second time,human.”

“Mother,” Hadeon said as he leaned up on an elbow. “This is a mere… misunderstanding. Allow me to introduce my comrades.”

Arabella’s eyes narrowed.

Was he trying to protect them?

The queen, likely thinking the same thing, raised a brow.

“This is Enchantress Jessamine,” Hadeon said, nodding to Jessamine—who still didn’t move to get up. With a pause, he gestured to Arabella. “You’ve met Enchantress Arabella as well. But much has come to light since.”

“To think a shadow fae entered my court under my very nose.” The queen spoke as though she’d sniffed a rotten corpse, nodding to the twisting shadows at Arabella’s feet. Genoveva’s gaze traveled up and down the length of Arabella in her leathers—filthy from days traveling through a desert. It was quite unlike the queen’s midnight-blue gown, which had an outer sheer fabric with interwoven silver thread that looked like shooting stars.

“I was only recently made aware of my heritage,” Arabella said.

“And what heritage is that?” the queen asked.