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EILISH

Mercenary Stronghold

The artificer, Zir, hands me another sketch with intricate notes along the edges: ideas that will unite the powers of magic and science to create new weapons, security, and possibly portals through the mortal realm in addition to powering the vehicles found by the scouts.

I’m excited and nervous, but I need something solid to present to the clan leaders in order to get their approval.

“These are amazing, Zir,” I say. “If this works and we get King Galmer’s approval, then we can create strongholds like this all over the realms.”

“I will keep working on the plans,” Zir answers.

She doesn’t talk much, but she holds no loyalty to Morrigan and even agreed to work on my ideas in order to regain her freedom.

That’s the only reason she’s still alive.

She’s powerful and her power is useful. And because she holds no allegiance to Morrigan, I don’t consider her an enemy.

Not that she holds any allegiance to me either.

The Midnight Queen hadn’t even bothered to learn the woman’s name before enslaving her to craft the amulet and that’s something Zir holds against Morrigan. But, I’m also being careful by keeping Zir in the dungeon. The dungeon is a precaution and, thankfully, she understands that.

When all the plans are finished, I’ll have Pyre look them over and ward them against anyone who may be a potential threat to our resistance. We’re playing it safe this time. There’s no room for error.

I know we’re close to something; I can feel it.

Leaving Zir to her work, I climb the stairs to exit the barracks.

Draken and Hemoteph await my arrival near the entrance to the resistance’s section of the stronghold. The vampire and lycan are at one another’s throats more often than Cambion and the others. A fond smile curls my lips as I catch sight of them, and Hemoteph’s wolfish grin spreads from ear to ear.

He licks his lips and bows his head. “Lady Fulthain,” he says deeply. “Your beauty rivals the moon tonight. And you smell… exquisite.”

The lecherous glimmer in his eyes causes me to look away. I don’t desire him in the way I desire the others, but my body doesn’t bow to the commands of my heart. The succubus wants to feed as much as the angel does.

“I have a few things drafted up. Things I wish to present to King Galmer,” I say.

“Yes,” Draken replies, “so you said before.” He circles me, eyes locked on my neck as though the secrets of the universe are hidden beneath my skin. “But what makes you think Galmer will be open to so many changes?”

“ So many changes?” I repeat.

He nods. “My scouts tell me you’ve got more planned than we discussed.”

“I only wish to protect the stronghold and its people.”

“We were fine before you came along. The only problems we face now are because you decided to make a premature strike against Variant and Morrigan.”

Hemoteph advances towards me quickly, no doubt scenting my need in the air around me.

I take a few steps back until I’m pressed against the side of one of the buildings.

Draken closes in on me until I can sense nothing but the mingling aroma of our shared pheromones.

A tongue traces up the length of my throat as hands—too many hands—grope my body.

They’re mindless, driven by my hunger as it calls out to them.

I don’t want this... I don’t want them. But my body says otherwise.

“I bet you would taste sweet,” Draken says.

“Stop,” I demand.

“Your body sings to us,” Hemoteph responds. “I can smell your wetness.”

“Do your best to ignore it,” I answer with tight lips. “Regardless what you think my body is saying, I am saying stop.”

“You want it. It’s what you’re made for.

Don’t fight us…” Draken’s words are cut off when something in the shadows charges him and hurls him into a brick wall.

I hear grunting and the fleshy sound of a fist colliding with someone’s jaw, but I can’t see what’s happening because Hemoteph’s body blocks my vision.

Moment later, he raises his hands in surrender and helps Draken to his feet.

When Hemoteph steps aside, I see Cambion standing before me, the two clan leaders hurrying away from him.

“Your king will hear about this!” Cambion shouts after the retreating silhouettes. Then he turns to face me and before I can speak, he grips my hand and leads me back to my tent in the barracks. It’s maybe a two minute walk.

“I’m okay, Cambion.”

“I want to make sure,” he says as he lifts me and carries me into the tent, depositing me carefully on the cot. Then he checks me over for any injuries even though I know he’ll come up empty-handed. I try to assure him I’m all right, but he doesn’t listen.

Cambion is much different now than he was when he left the Veil. He looks the same, yes, but inside he’s night and day different. Gone is the angry and pompous man I once knew and in his place is someone caring and brave. I brush my hand through his long hair and his golden eyes meet mine.

“If they come near you again…”

“It wasn’t their fault, Cambion.”

“You told them to stop.” He takes a breath. “I heard you.”

“But you know how my hunger is. The scent of my seduction is strong,” I reply regretfully, all too aware of the trouble it caused Cambion and me in the past. “You should go. Galmer will want to know what happened.” My hand drops from his hair as he stands to leave.

“I’ll be back to talk to you about this, Eilish,” he says.

“Talk to me about it?”

He nods. “Just because you’re a succubus—it doesn’t mean they were right in their actions.

” He chews his bottom lip for a moment before leaving me to my solitude and I recline against the pillows, taking deep breaths as I try to fight against the desire that flows through my veins.

If Cambion hadn’t stepped in, I’m not sure I would have been able to resist both men and that’s a problem.

I need to be their leader, not their lover.

***

DRAGAN

Mount Dolgum

“Pyre has been gone for a long time,” I say as I begin to pack up camp.

Baron’s eyes are closed and his back is to Theren as he goes into some sort of trance.

It’s not unlike Cambion’s meditation, but I suspect it’s something Pyre taught him while they were in the Veil.

Having Pyre gone for more than a few minutes doesn’t sit well with me.

He left to make sure the orc raids weren’t too close to our camp but he should have been back by now.

Having Variant’s minions nearby means we need to move quickly if we want to avoid another fight. “So, it’s official, then?”

Baron cracks one eye open. “Official?”

“You’ll be the one to replace Pyre when his part of the prophecies is complete?”

“Pyre’s my friend as much as he’s my mentor, which means I won’t let his part of the prophecies complete. If the realms are this fucked up with him alive, imagine how they’d be without him.”

“Right.”

“Pyre isn’t going to die if I can help it, so don’t think about me replacing him anytime soon.”

I lift my hands in defense, not realizing just how much the prophecy affects Baron. “I thought—”

“Yeah, I know what you thought. And Pyre thinks the same. I know you don’t want me to get my hopes up, thinking I can save him when it’s written in the stars or some shit, but I don’t believe that. Prophecies are just possibilities. Nothing in this life is a guarantee.”

“Then what about Theren?” I ask. “If nothing in this life is a guarantee, then it’s possible he isn’t the villain we’ve all made him out to be.”

“Bullshit.”

“He could be a victim of circumstance, like Eilish said,” I continue. “Don’t we owe it to her to make sure before we do something drastic?”

“I’m not going to kill him, if that’s what you’re asking,” Baron says.

“I’m not asking anything,” I correct him and stand up to kick dirt onto the fire to put out the flames.

“I’ve seen you angry and I’ve seen you violent, Baron, but never have I seen you so cruel.

You looked as though you wanted to hurt Theren, not because you wanted to get information from him, but because it felt good to do it. ”

“You have to admit, letting out some frustration on the guy who nearly destroyed the Veil does feel good,” he argues with a shrug.

“Theren may not be our enemy at the moment, but he sure as hell ain’t a friend.

” He takes a breath. “And we still don’t know everything about Morrigan’s plans.

Until I know for certain Theren’s not part of them, I’m keeping a close eye on that son of a bitch. ”

“What do you think about the prophecy, then?” I ask. “I mean, it’s pretty clear he’s part of it. Three of light, three of dark. You, me, and Theren are clearly the darkness. Cambion, Variant, and someone else—”

“Silvanus,” Baron inserts, interrupting me once more. “The third is Silvanus.”

“Silvanus?” I repeat, shaking my head.

“He and Eilish were lovers before. I don’t know for how long, exactly, but he tried to train her as a favor to Eilish’s mother. And if Morrigan is trying to avoid the prophecy where Eilish rises as a new god, then killing Silvanus gets Morrigan her powers back and stops that prophecy all at once.”

“And you think you can do the same for Pyre?”

Baron nods, walking over to me to ensure Theren can’t overhear our conversation. Though he appears to be resting, there’s no telling just how far the cunning Unseelie is willing to go in his treachery.

“Morrigan has defied prophecies and bent the will of fate itself to design her own destiny,” Baron says. “Why can’t I do the same? Why can’t all of us? We shouldn’t let prophecies spoken thousands of years ago dictate our paths.”

“We can’t do that because there are some forms of dark magic that you can’t come back from,” I argue. “Aima said she watched Morrigan change over the years, watched her fall deeper into madness and obsession. That will happen to you too, Baron, if you aren’t careful.”

As I walk towards Theren, I feel something. A sense of concern washes over me, though I’m not sure why. Baron seems to have the same foreboding feeling I do, because he reaches for his blade.

Pyre appears through the trees and runs up the mountain. He looks rattled. “There are more than I thought. The orcs are scouring the countryside. At least thirteen are behind me.”

“What do we do?” I ask.

“Protect Theren and fight our way to the volcano,” Pyre answers.

So much for avoiding another fight. “What happens when we get there?”

“The ethers will be thin enough that I may be able to transport us further away from Oronrel without expelling too much magic,” Pyre huffs, trying to catch his breath. “From there, it will be a long journey to the mortal realm.”

I see a horde of orcs break through the tree line not far from the location where we spotted Pyre. “All right,” I say. “You take the lead and I’ll cover Theren.”

Baron shoves me aside and unsheathes his blades. “Head for the volcano. Another forest lies between here and there. You’ll need a head start. I’ll keep the orcs at bay.”

Seeing the conviction in his eyes, I nod.

Baron pushes toward the edge of the mountain as Pyre lifts Theren.

I can see Pyre pouring magic into the former Unseelie King, trying to heal his wounds enough to allow Theren to walk on his own.

When Theren breathes a sigh of relief, he takes his weight off Pyre’s shoulders and walks beside me as Pyre makes a mad dash for the dark, mangled forest I remember from before we entered the Veil the first time.