Page 13 of As Above, So Below

Witnessing streets filled with throngs of fae going about their lives, seeing the way the city imbues itself with the surrounding forest, and the rocky lakeside in the west—all of it won me.

Ollora possesses a magic I can’t explain.

Since then, I’d visited several more times, and each time my adoration for the fae capitol grew. Ollora during the day was a thriving, bustling city. Everything I’d come to expect for a city filled with fae. Ollora at night? An otherworldly dream.

The cobblestone streets, damp from an earlier rain, glisten under the soft glow of the magelight street lanterns. The light weaves through the low hanging fog that blankets the city, casting wispy shadows that dance with the mist. Despite the late hour, Ollora remains alive with a muted energy, laughter and music dampened by the fog.

I can’t pin exactly what it is I adore about Ollora.

There are a multitude of cities, both fae and human, that possess the same energy, the same beauty. But they don’t hold my heart like this city. Whatever it is, I’m drawn here.

Like I was meant to be here.

And perhaps I was.

In a different universe where different decisions were made, perhaps I would have lived a life here.

It’s grown since my last visit.

Changed, evolved—unlike the hells.

There are new shops, new blocks, new streets, new homes, newgardens. But its bones remain the same. The dark stone castle towers near the city center ahead, beyond that the temple dedicated to Celesta.

Perhaps she’s why I’m drawn here.

Could it be something in my blood?

The city of Ollora is home to one of eight Moon Temples, all dedicated to my mother. I never understood why until readingFated Celestials. Many fae view her as their matron goddess, her tragic story demonstrating the power of the mate bond.

I scoff a laugh with the thought.

The mate bond is a foolish notion. Fae believe they’re destined to spend their lives with a partner chosen for them by the goddess of Fate. Many spend their lives searching and never find them. Others ignore the expectation and create families with non-mate partners, only to have them destroyed when their mate surfaces.

It’s yet another means for the gods to interfere with the lives of mortals for their own entertainment. One of the few redeeming qualities of being demon, a mate bond is not something I’ll ever have to navigate.

The largest of the Moon Temples lies here in this city, likely because Celesta was born somewhere in Erus.Fated Celestialsnever stated exactly where. Eight temples, eight moon phases—I’m going to assume each temple represents a phase.

I’ve never seen the temple or the castle up close, always at a distance.

But, following Ylara, headed north, toward the city center. A small sliver of hope flares in my chest, perhaps that changes tonight.

Moving silently along the middle of the street, I raise the hood of my black robes, shrouding my face and hair in shadow. Tattered and frayed, they’re the same robes I’ve worn for centuries now. I don’t wear the same finery as Ylara or even Vaelyn, because that means negotiating with Netharis for them, and that’s not something I’m willing to do.

Besides, these robes are familiar, comfortable, and they serve their purpose. I’ve no need for anything else.

As we draw closer to the city center, a few mortals wanderalong the street. A couple here, a group there. All meandering at a leisurely pace through the night. They chatter and laugh, some walk hand in hand and for a moment, I wonder about the kind of lives they lead.

Lifting my gaze overhead, the peaked spires of Castle Erus reach toward the stars, dark against the deep of the universe overhead. A few of the windows glow silver in the night, the light from magelights spilling through. Stumbling in Ylara’s wake in an awe-struck mess as we move forward, I’m forced to lower my attention lest I fall face first in the middle of the street.

Despite my rapidly growing sense of wonder, the lack of hunting instinct is more than strange. Not having the demanding pull in my chest makes this excursion feel wrong. It feels as if I’m breaking rules I shouldn’t be and when I return to the hells, I’ll be met with Netharis’ rage.

Doing my best to sweep the thoughts and feelings aside, my innate vibrates and ripples with each step. It feeds on the swirling emotions within me—the excitement, awe, fear. And if I’m not careful, my shadows could overwhelm me and unleash an uncontrollable storm. Losing control of my magic has landed me in difficult situations more than once, and I would rather tonight not be one of them.

“What name were you given?” I ask, and my half-sister’s eyes swing in my direction. Deep pools of black that could swallow the night.

“Devran O’Rourke,” she answers.

A human name?