Page 5 of A Kingdom of Sand and Ice (Kingdom of Gods #2)

She moved to his side and let her gaze rest on the tree, its blackened branches stretching towards the heavens. What would happen, she wondered, if she felled it? Would the gods rage? Or would they, as always, remain indifferent?

‘Tell me what happened to them,’ he said.

‘I don’t think that’s wise.’

‘Tell me, Mal. I wasn’t there. I should have been there.

I’m secondborn, do you know what that means?

’ His voice broke, cracking open as a surge of emotion rippled through him.

His hands clenched at his sides, and the hatred in his voice wasn’t for the world, it was for himself.

Mal took a small step back, startled by the rawness woven through his voice.

So exposed, so unguarded, it struck her harder than any expression ever could.

‘I was meant to protect Haven,’ he continued, breath coming fast, fury lacing every word.

‘It was my only purpose. And I failed. Now…’ He turned from her, his shoulders rising and falling with sharp, uneven breaths, and Mal ached to reach out, to steady him, but she didn’t move.

She couldn’t. She felt just as un moored.

Just as shattered. ‘I didn’t want Haven travelling alone to the Kingdom of Fire,’ Kai said with a bitter laugh.

‘But she insisted. She begged me to stay, to watch over our parents. I should never have listened—’

‘You honoured her wishes, Kai.’

‘I shouldn’t have. Being secondborn means knowing when not to obey. I should have known better.’

‘You couldn’t have,’ she said quietly, trying to place a hand on his arm. He shook her off.

His hands curled into fists.

‘The truth is… selfishly, I was glad she asked me to stay behind. I didn’t want to go back and watch Alina celebrate her engagement.’ He let out a bitter snort. ‘Because of that, they both died. If I’d gone back and put my jealousy aside, I might have protected them.’

Mal sighed.

‘You don’t know that, Kai.’

‘Who did this to them?’

Mal stiffened. She had not witnessed Haven or Alina’s deaths, but Ash had told her—his voice hollow, his eyes far away.

‘Hagan,’ she whispered, still staring at the tree, unable to face her brother and the storm she knew was rising within him.

‘I will kill him,’ Kai said, his voice like iron.

Mal reached for him again, this time gripping his arm with force. ‘Good. When I return from the Underworld, we’ll tear them all down. Every last witch, every last warlock.’

He went still, his breath caught. She felt the weight of his gaze settle upon her.

‘Mal,’ he said softly, ‘look at me.’

She shook her head.

‘Mal.’

‘Please, don’ t make me,’ she whispered, voice cracking.

‘Why?’

‘Because if I look at you, I’ll break.’

To see the grief mirrored in his face, the same grief she fought so hard to hold at bay, would undo her. It would keep her here, tether her to this place and to him, when everything within her was screaming to run. Not away from her brother, but from the weight of leaving him behind.

‘I can’t lose anyone else, Kai.’ Her hand trembled as she held onto him, pleading for understanding. ‘Not again.’

‘You won’t lose me, sister,’ he said, stepping in close, his breath a whisper against her temple. ‘I’ll be here when you return. Waiting.’ A beat of silence passed. ‘Must you go with that… god?’

Mal nodded.

‘Why? How can we trust him? For all we know, he might not even be what he claims.’

‘He is,’ she said simply. ‘Ash saw it.’

‘What does that mean?’ Kai asked, brows furrowing.

Mal turned from him, a shift in the air drawing her gaze.

By the entrance to the Temple of Deadly Shadows, a figure appeared—silent, reverent.

The High Priestess. Her eyes were veiled by the sacred cloth, cut by the holy blade in ritual devotion.

Her grey robes wrapped around her like mist, clinging to her as though the very temple itself refused to let her go.

Mal bowed her head in reverence. ‘High Priestess,’ she said by way of greeting, pointedly ignoring Kai’s visible disinterest. He refused to acknowledge them, his silence heavy as stone.

‘The God of the Dead has graced our temple, child,’ the High Priestess intoned, her voice carrying the weight of prophecy. ‘We must prepare you for your descent into the Underworld.’

‘Prepare me?’ Mal’s spine stiffened, instinctively leaning back into her brother’s presence, seeking the strength she wasn’t ready to summon alone.

It hadn’t been so long ago that she had walked these very halls as a bride-to-be.

Bathed, anointed, and robed in ritual purity before journeying to the Kingdom of Fire to wed Ash Acheron.

And now, once more, she was to be sent away.

But this time… she would give anything to remain.

‘Don’t,’ Kai said fiercely, clutching her hand in his. His grip was unyielding, his resolve desperate. ‘Don’t go. Stay. We’ll find another way.’

Mal’s blackened heart stuttered, then splintered, as memory washed over her like ash on the wind.

Of him once begging her not to leave, not to marry the Fire Prince, not to follow a fate he feared would break her.

She hadn’t listened then. She’d been so certain.

Would things have unfolded differently, had she obeyed?

She turned at last to face him fully. Their eyes locked. Hers awash with sorrow, his burning with grief, fury, and fear. In that moment, they were no longer warriors or royals of shadow and flame. They were simply siblings, fraying at the seams.

‘Don’t make me lose another sister,’ Kai whispered, his voice raw and cracked. ‘I couldn’t bear it, Mal. Don’t you dare leave me again. We’ll find another way, I swear it.’

And Mal broke.

The tears came fast, hot and violent, as sobs shook her body.

She wept for Haven, for home, for all she had lost and all she was yet to lose.

She wept as Kai held her close, her pain mirrored in the quiet ache of his embrace.

She screamed, screamed for the gods who had forsaken them for so long, and now, in answering, demanded a price she could barely comprehend.

But then the tide passed. Slowly, she pulled herself together, her breath hitching as she wiped her cheeks with trembling fingers.

‘Look after him,’ she said, voice thick but steady. ‘Protect Ash. Keep him safe until I return.’

Kai didn’t speak. He simply nodded, even as his jaw clenched, even as defeat settled across his shoulders like a cloak of mourning.

Mal tore herself from Kai’s grasp, fleeing towards the Temple’s looming archway, never once daring to glance back at the wyverian warrior who stood in hollow silence, shattered and beaten, as his little sister walked once more into the waiting arms of the unknown.

…

The priestesses had bathed her in the sacred waters beneath the Temple, cleansing her body in preparation for her journey into the Underworld.

Now, hours later, Mal sat in quiet contemplation, awaiting the return of the God of the Dead to take her…

home. She perched on the ledge of a great window in the castle, one leg dangling over the side, watching the wyverns as they soared in lazy circles below, their wings catching the last glimmers of light.

The sound of footsteps reached her ears, soft as shadows, and someone sat beside her.

Her heart gave a quiet jolt when she turned and saw Ash.

He, too, had bathed and changed, and the sight of him in wyverian clothing was disarming.

Dark leather trousers, boots polished to a quiet shine, and a low-cut black shirt that clung to him as if it too recognised him as royalty.

His blonde hair, still damp, glinted like molten sunlight against the midnight shades of his clothing.

Without thinking, Mal reached out and ran her fingers through it, desperate to memorise the feel of him .

The High Priestess had adorned Mal in jewels and draped her in a gown far more regal than she deemed appropriate.

It clung to her like the binding of a vow, stitched from cotton and silver thread, heavy with meaning.

She felt utterly absurd dressed like a bride.

An offering almost, waiting to be collected by a god.

What she truly wanted was her plain grey riding dress, her boots, and her sword strapped to her back.

‘You look beautiful,’ Ash said.

‘I look like a wyverian bride,’ Mal replied, her tone dry. ‘As though they believe Hades is escorting me to the Underworld for a wedding. Or worse, a sacrifice.’

Ash’s expression shifted, his breath catching as his eyes clouded with sadness. Whatever the dress reminded him of, she didn’t ask. She feared the answer, feared it might unearth something she wasn’t ready to face, something that might make her run.

She glanced down at the collection of rings, bracelets, and earrings weighing her down.

The urge to tear them off and hurl them into the wind tugged at her like a child pulling at a mother’s hem.

She had asked the High Priestess why she must be adorned so, but no answer had been given.

Now, seeing the way Ash stared at her, she wished she had demanded one.

‘I should go,’ Mal said at last, her voice soft as falling ash. ‘I will not say goodbye to my parents. Or to Kai.’ She turned to him, memorising every line of his face, every freckle, every fleeting shadow in case this was the last time. ‘But I must say goodbye to you.’

‘Why?’ A frown creased his brow.

‘In case…’ she hesitated, heat rising to her cheeks. ‘In case you choose to not wait for me.’

Ash lifted her chin with the gentlest of touches, his hand trembling only slightly. Their eyes met—his gold, hers purple— and the rest of the world fell away.

‘I will never stop waiting for you, Mal Blackburn,’ he whispered. ‘In this life, or the next… I will wait.’

Mal felt her heart shatter and bloom all at once as his lips brushed against hers.

It was meant to be a soft kiss, a goodbye kiss, but the moment his skin met hers, the world seemed to slip away.

She pulled him closer, burying herself in his warmth, in the scent of him, in the solace of his arms. She needed every breath, every touch, to become a part of her, if only for a moment.

His mouth claimed hers with quiet urgency, and her moan vibrated between them, a tremble of need and heartbreak. His hands roamed her body with reverence and hunger, finding her waist, pulling her flush against him until the feel of him left her dizzy and breathless.

Mal climbed into his lap, her legs encircling his hips as he drew her gown up around her thighs. Her breath hitched as he guided her to him, and when she sank down onto him, her head tilted back, a sigh slipping from her lips as her body shuddered with aching pleasure.

She moved slowly at first, savouring the sensation, the connection, the way his golden eyes held hers like a vow. The rhythm between them quickened, bodies moving with shared desperation, their hearts racing towards the inevitable.

When release came, it was together, a wordless cry caught between their lips. Mal held onto him, trembling, pressing her face into the curve of his neck. For a heartbeat, for a breath, there was only the two of them. Timeless and infinite.

Panting, she pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose, clinging to him as though her body could somehow etch the moment into permanence. The thought that she might never feel him like this again, might never see him at all, gnawed at her from the inside out.

A gust of wind tousled her hair, whispering a warning of an unwelcome presence close by. Thunder cracked through the skies below, and the wyverns screamed in response, their shadows circling the castle, restless and unwilling to stray too far.

‘It’s time,’ Ash said, gently tucking a black strand of hair behind her ear.

Mal gave a faint nod, the lump in her throat making it impossible to speak. ‘Nyx, venire.’

She rose to her feet, drinking in the sight of him one final time.

Every detail. Every line of his face. Her body shifted slowly, fading into smoke and shadow.

Ash watched silently as she turned, her form unravelling into mist, until she vanished into the chasm below.

Nyx, forged of the same darkness, soared up from the void to catch her.

Mal landed lightly on the wyvern’s back, the great creature crying out with a sound that split the sky. Together, they swept past the obsidian spires of the castle carved into the mountain’s heart. Her childhood home, now little more than memory.

Nyx landed at the edge of the Forest of Silent Cries. The moment Mal’s feet touched the blackened earth, her body returned to solid form. A crack of thunder rang overhead, and she turned her head towards the sound of soft footsteps.

There, leaning lazily against the withered bark of a tree, was Hades. He tossed an apple in the air, catching it with infuriating ease.

‘Are you marrying someone?’ he quipped, an eyebrow raised in mockery.

‘The priestesses at the Temple of Deadly Shadows deemed it appropriate to dress for a god,’ Mal replied coldly. ‘Though from what I gather, you visited them long before I arrived and told them what you wanted. Told them what you wanted of me. Why this dress?’

Hades chuckled, dark amusement dancing in his crimson gaze. ‘Did you say your farewells?’

Mal’s lip curled in reply.

‘Come along, dear,’ he said, extending his hand. ‘The rest of the family are eager to meet you.’

Her gaze narrowed. ‘Family?’

‘Oh, yes,’ he said with a wicked grin. ‘Did you truly think it was only you and I?’ His laughter rasped like dry leaves. ‘Take my hand, Melinoe. Let me take you home.’

Mal turned to Nyx, running a hand along the creature’s shadowy flank, soothing the wyvern’s tension. ‘I’ll be back soon, Nyx. I promise.’

She ignored the way Hades’ grin sharpened at her words, as though he knew something she didn’t, something terrible. But Mal didn’t care. She would find her way back, even if it meant tearing a god from his throne.

Her fingers slid into his. His hand was cool, but the grip that followed was anything but gentle.

‘Stop smiling,’ she muttered, her purple eyes locking with his. ‘Or I might have to carve a frown into your face.’

Hades laughed, his fingers tightening around hers. ‘Oh yes,’ he said, a wicked glint in his gaze. ‘You’ll fit right in.’

Before Mal could retort, a violent crack split the earth beneath her feet. She twisted, trying to leap back, but it was too late. The ground yawned open with a deafening roar, swallowing her whole. She caught one last glimpse of Nyx lunging forward, jaws bared in a cry of defiance.

Then the world closed in.

And Mal Blackburn was gone.