Page 9

9

Malice

Watching Slaine’s soldiers drag Dagny from her cell and into Zairn’s torture chamber is a pain I’ve never experienced, and if given the choice, I would rather have my skin peeled from my bones and set on fire.

You have to do this. This is the only way. You have to let him do this.

But as I say it, bile coats my mouth—a reminder of how I’ve failed my mate. If I were good enough, she wouldn’t be going through this in the first place. Wouldn’t be in danger. Wouldn’t be in pain.

My claws dig into the flesh of my palm, causing dark blue blood to pool and drip to the floor of the observation room. I’m helpless to do anything but watch through the clear barrier as Rai straps an iron bridle to Dagny’s head. My inner beast threatens to burst out of my skin as he yanks her back roughly, causing the metal to cut the skin around her lips as he chains her to the chair in the center of the room.

She doesn’t struggle, doesn’t move, doesn’t blink—just stares blankly at the opposite wall, her pupils dilated. The substance I gave her earlier was laced with arachnyx venom—just enough to dampen her powers and make her numb to whatever pain Slaine plans to inflict. The venom paralyzes the nerves, but it also delivers a powerful hallucinogenic into the system, leaving the victim immobilized, both body and mind. But just because she won’t feel anything and won’t remember doesn’t take away any of the remorse coursing through my blood.

“I hate you, Malice. And I always—always—will.”

Her words play in my mind as clearly as if she just uttered them and twice as painful. Dagny has every reason to despise me, every reason to want me dead. And if I thought my death would secure her safety, it would already be arranged. If I thought there was any other way than this…

No. I’ve run through all the different paths and outcomes, and none exist.

I keep my eyes locked on Dagny, unblinking for fear the moment I do everything will fall apart—that her demon will emerge and Slaine will slaughter her before I have the chance to do anything about it.

The bond thumbs rapidly as I watch Zairn step toward her with a large curved knife, his lipless mouth peeled back in a revolting sneer. I have no way of knowing what he says to her, but her lack of reaction eases some of the tension in my shoulders. The venom is working. Good.

Zairn’s skin turns purple in anger as he raises the blade above his head, but before he can lower it, two of Slaine’s soldiers rush forward, grabbing his arms and stopping him from inflicting his death blow. Slaine barks an order from the corner of the room, and Zairn is hauled away from Dagny and out of the room. He kicks, screams, and fights, but is much too weak to do anything against two Naif warriors in their prime.

Good. He reacted just the way I thought he would.

My eyes flit from Dagny toward Slaine, and I let out a deep sigh of relief to see he’s falling into line just as planned. The false demon lord holds out a pale hand, grinning maliciously as a small paring knife is placed into his palm. His fingers curl lovingly around the hilt as he stalks toward Dagny, his head lowered and shoulders taut as he closes in on his prey.

Filthy scavenger.

My lip curls back as Slaine stops in front of Dagny, running the edge of the blade lightly across her forearm. Instead of the fear he’s expecting, Dagny just stares off into the distance, her gaze covered in a misty film due to the influence of the venom.

Just like Zairn, Slaine takes her lack of reaction to heart, forcing the blade deep into the flesh of her forearm. Dark blood pools from the gash, covering her skin and seeping into the stone of the torture chair, staining it purple. And still, Dagny doesn’t seem to notice.

Slaine’s mouth opens in a silent bellow as he slashes wildly, placing dozens of shallow wounds along her arms, chest, and neck. With each blow, he grows more vicious, slicing deeper and deeper until finally, I can no longer control my beast.

A film of shadows cuts across my vision as my wings burst from my spine. My claws elongate, my muscles quiver and strain, the disgusting squelching sound overshadowed by a cacophony of pops and crackles as my bones adjust to my growing size.

A bellowing roar pours from my open mouth as I slam into the barrier, pounding against the thin wall of magic and creating spiderweb cracks throughout the structure. The force of my blows shakes the entire room, threatening to send the stone walls of the castle crumbling around us. Sensing this, Slaine whips his head in my direction, searching for me through the one-way barrier. His mouth pulls into a frown as he lowers the blade to his side, all his anger at Dagny refocused onto me.

With a snarl, he throws the knife to the floor and storms toward the exit, barking some order at one of the soldiers before disappearing into the hallway. As soon as he leaves, I rush out of the observation room and down the stairs toward the torture chamber, narrowing my gaze on the group of soldiers barring the doorway.

“ Move. ” The single word passes my lips with enough violence to make them cower, and after a couple of shifty-eyed glances, they step to the side.

I’m through the door faster than they can blink and propelled across the distance with a single beat of my powerful wings. I fall to the floor at Dagny’s feet, curling my arms around her and hooking them at the back of the chair.

“Wildfire,” I choke, burying my face into her knees. “I’m so sorry, my wildfire. Look what he did to you… your beautiful skin…” I release my grip, pulling back to inspect the oozing gashes on her arms and chest. How could I let this happen?

Loathing spreads throughout my veins, filling me with disgust—and it’s all for myself. I did this to my mate. I’m the reason she was hurt. The reason she’s bleeding.

“Why did the gods curse you with a mate like me?” I wonder aloud, reaching to cup her cheek. Healing magic thrums warm at the base of my palms, and though it's weak, it will be enough. Slaine’s soldiers watch in awe as I slide my hand down her neck, then over her chest and arms, healing her wounds everywhere my skin touches.

Sweat beads along my brow as I focus on the last—and deepest—of Dagny’s cuts, my vision fading in and out of focus as I pour the last of my magic stores into her, desperate to undo some of the harm I’ve caused my beloved.

It's not part of the plan, and I’m well aware I might be dooming us all by using my power like this, but I just can’t bear the thought of Dagny holding these wounds a second longer than she has to. I won’t allow it.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, knowing she can’t hear me, knowing she wouldn’t care if she could. Knowing it’s what I deserve, and I have no right to be upset about it. “Let’s get you out of here.”

I slowly stand, unhooking the iron bridle around her head and then her wrist and ankle restraints. She’s so incredibly light when I lift her into my arms, so small and fragile in comparison to my fully-shifted form—and remorse courses through me anew.

I sigh, pressing my lips to her forehead, allowing the bond to settle enough for me to think clearly. If anything, it makes things worse, and when I finally turn to address the soldiers, my composure is ready to snap.

“Get out of the way,” I snarl, my eyes locking on the one blocking the exit with his body. “I’m taking her back to her cell.”

“Slaine wants to try again. He thinks that?—”

“I don’t give a fuck ,” I snap, taking a threatening step toward him. “You let me out, or you start losing pieces of your body—your choice.”

The demon shifts his milky white eyes to his comrades, but all of them are turned toward the ground. “I don’t know…”

“Slaine and I have a deal. He’s put her through the test, and he has his results—she’s human. If he wants to continue playing this game, my half of the arrangement is forfeit. And then we all burn.”

The soldier scoffs. “All of this for a pathetic human whore. Ridiculous, really.”

Instead of answering, my lips peel back in a malicious smile. Your tongue will be the first I cut out. “What’s your name, soldier?”

He frowns, cocking his head to the side. “What does that have to do with anyth?—”

I’m across the room before he can finish, one hand holding Dagny to my chest and the other outstretched, wrapped around the soldier's jaw like a vise. My smile spreads as the demon’s eyes roll back in agony, the movement accompanied by several sickening pops as his teeth break and his jawbone is ground to dust in my palm. A high-pitched scream explodes into the air as a river of blood pours from his open mouth, coating the armor covering his neck and chest. My mouth turns down in disgust as I curl one of my wings forward, covering Dagny from any possible spray and the revolting smell of sulfur infecting the air.

Once I’m sure she’s safe, I turn my attention back to the lowly soldier. With one swift movement, I tear his lower jaw from his skull, sending a shower of dark blue fluid onto the floor and revealing muscle, connective tissue, and— just what I was looking for.

Throwing the jaw bone to the floor, I reach up, wrapping my blood-slicked fingers around the blue fleshy thing dangling from his open throat, my smile splitting my face in two from his gurgling pleas of “mercy.”

I rip the useless organ from his body, shredding it between my claws before tossing it to the floor and crushing it beneath my heel. The soldier who dared to call my mate pathetic slumps to the ground in a limp, bloodied heap, either dead or close to it.

The rest of the soldiers stare in abject horror, their skin transitioning between shades of green.

“Slaine’s going to kill you,” the one on the left whispers, his milky eyes darting around the room as if the great Slaine will appear and smite him. “You… you can’t do that…”

“Perhaps, and I just did.” I kick the fallen soldier to the side, refusing to look at any of them. Ants. Not even chess pieces. Fucking bugs to be squashed. “I doubt Slaine will care after he hears you all were plotting to take him out while he slept tonight. He might just reward me.”

The same soldier who spoke earlier turns a deathly shade of white. “We would never?—”

“Then I suppose our friend there deserved to die, yes? He was such a nuisance after all. Best not to trouble Slaine with the specifics behind his death.” I lean in with a bright smile, pleased when the soldier shifts back against the wall with a gulp. “You do agree, don’t you?”

“Of course, Malice.” The soldier sends a pointed look to the rest of the group, who parrot his words exactly.

“Wonderful!” I step back, sending my new friend a wink before ripping open the door and stepping out of the torture chamber. I slam it closed behind me and head off down the long tunnel toward the holding cells, clutching Dagny’s tiny body to my chest like it’s the last time I’ll ever get to hold her like this. And for all I know, it probably is.

My chest twinges as I turn to the left down another narrow passage lined with empty cells—at least, it seems that way—but the low hisses and moans reverberating from the shadows tell me otherwise. I hasten my pace, keeping my eyes forward and my wing curled around the beautiful creature in my arms until I reach the end, where the magic-fortified cell is. I wave my hand in front of the door, and the deadbolt creaks open slowly—another reminder of how little magic I have left in my body.

With a sigh, I step into the chilled cell, my mouth turning downward in a frown as I take in the bare floor and frost-covered stone. I place her gently in the corner of the room, keeping my eyes on her as I strip my dermal suit. My skin burns as it’s exposed to the air, but it’s only for a moment, and certainly not enough to distract me.

I kneel on the stone, spreading the fabric along the ground as best I can to make a little spot for Dagny to rest on. I fold one of the sleeves in an attempt to create a pillow, but it’s far from what I envisioned. Another sigh passes my lips as I gaze at the sad excuse for a bed, but I can’t do anything else at this point.

“Just a little while longer,” I whisper, turning to pick Dagny up and move her to the spread. “Just a few more days, and all of this will be worth it. I promise.”

She doesn’t respond, but it’s not like I expect her to. She’s still deep under the influence of the arachnyx venom and won’t be fully conscious for another couple of hours. Still, a painful ache travels down the bond, knowing what I’ve put her through, knowing what I still must.

I lean in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. The bond screams in agony as I pull away, but it's a pain I can manage. I’ve felt it since the moment I locked eyes with Dagny—that ever-present, overwhelming need to be with her, to be in her skin. Waiting just a little while longer will be worth it—or at least, that’s what I tell myself to make it through the day.

My body trembles as I close and lock the cell door, the clang of metal like claws on a chalkboard as a million fire ants race across my skin. Each step away from my mate is like walking over hot coals, and I know it’s the gods punishing me for what I’ve done.

I try to push the feeling to the back of my mind like I’ve done hundreds of times before, but by the time I make it to the main floor of Slaine’s palace, I’m no better off than I was when I first left her. The soldiers dotting the hall give me shifty looks as I pass by on the way to my room, their faces saying everything they’re too scared to—something is wrong with me.

And they would be very, very correct. But it’s not to do with anything they could comprehend.

Those curious eyes track me all the way to my room in the far corner of the palace, and long after I shut and bolt the door. As soon as I’m alone, I let loose the snarl that’s been building in my chest all day, letting out a fraction of the anger I’ve been forced to suppress.

I hate it. I hate it all.

Turning on my heel, I stalk over to the corner of my room where a small blue table sits, blending in with the bare stone walls. My hand wraps around the neck of the crystal canister sitting atop it—my only decoration—and I place the opening to my lips, taking a massive swig of the shimmering blue fluid inside.

The welwig sap burns my throat on the way down, but it’s accompanied by a wonderful warm tingling sensation in the tips of my fingers and toes. The headache brewing for most of the day subsides as the knots between my shoulder blades melt away. Closing my eyes, I take another sip of the viscous liquid and slump to the floor, leaning my head back against the cool stone as the drug flows through my system.

I like to use this time to empty my mind—clear away any assumptions or nagging thoughts that hinder what I set out to accomplish—but as I sit here alone, all I can think about is my mate. What she’s thinking, what she’s feeling, what she’s… everything.

What I told Dagny was true; she changed everything . And not in a way her, I, or the gods themselves could have foreseen. When Abaddon was sundered, and the others and I came to be, it was never my intention to betray the demon lord's wishes. I wanted the same things he did—peace for all in this land, and equality no matter the species. I just so happened to also want to live to see it. I had hoped the years would turn my brothers to my side—that after a few years of independence, they too would realize Abaddon didn’t have to be resurrected in order to take back the throne from Slaine. They would understand we can do it, but only if we do it together.

Then Fenryr had to go and figure out the loophole. That Abaddon’s one true mate—fated by the gods—could be used in place of Abaddon’s heart, and reverse the sundering. But only if she was willing to be absorbed in the process.

“ Quite poetic, ” I murmur, swirling my finger absentmindedly around the rim of the bottle. “And equally as ironic.”

Due to the nature of the bond, Abaddon's mate should be more than willing to give up her life for his. If Fenryr told Kaebl, he would no doubt seek her out, use her in some demented ritual to resurrect Abaddon. I would not let that happen. Could not, for the same reason I know Abaddon would abhor the idea of his mate being used in such a way.

Love.

A powerful emotion—one I had only dreamed I would get to experience—one that has the potential to unravel all my carefully laid plans, of which some are twenty-one years in the making.

Love.

I felt it before I met her—as if my soul knew she was out there, worlds apart. And now that I’ve found her, the real battle has begun. Because I still haven’t figured out a way to keep her—safe, mine, none of it—and it’s driving me mad.

I take a large gulp of the blue sap in my cup, focusing on the way it burns my tongue and throat, filling my stomach with liquid fire. Still, it won’t dull the agony that being away from her brings. That constant tug, ordering me to go to her. To correct this great wrong. To finish what I started and complete the mating bond once and for all. To have her. To fill her. To consume ? —

But it’s not time. Not even close.

I sigh, closing my eyes and swallowing the last of the welwig sap. There’s still so much to do. So little time to accomplish it.

I’ve bought us a few hours—maybe a day if I’m lucky—but before long, Slaine’s curiosity with Dagny will turn into something much deadlier. And then all our lives are forfeit.

I only hope my plan is sound enough to save her. Because everything is meaningless if it’s not.