Page 2 of Heir of Broken Souls (HOBF #3)

Chapter 2

Delilah

K nox hands me my dragon pommel sword, the very one the hounds were surprisingly wise enough to rip from my sheath and leave in the abandoned library. “Thanks,” I say, genuine sincerity in my voice. Knox presses his lips to my forehead, even though I’m covered in blood and dirt, but his eyes, his thoughts, remain far away, fixed on the fire and the hounds.

Cocking my hip against his, I ask, “What are you thinking?”

“I’m curious how he communicates with them.”

Sheathing the dragon sword, I let my body lean against his, not at all surprised when he holds me steady. “We’ve been over this before, it’s compulsion. How else would he command an entire legion of demons?”

“Something in my gut tells me it’s not that simple.” He runs a frustrated hand through his hair, tousling the black strands. “He wouldn’t be able to stay sane compelling that many through mind control.”

“We already know he’s not sane. He’s trying to conquer Aloriah.”

A muscle ticks in Knox’s jaw. “Key word: trying.”

Knox’s gaze stays frozen on the fire, coming up empty on our questions. Then in a voice so small I wonder if I imagined it, he whispers, “I don’t know how long I can keep doing this.”

The words evoke a reaction in my body, one I haven’t felt in weeks—a pang of emotion, in my heart to be exact. Yet it’s there and gone, disappearing before I can latch my hands onto it.

My emotions have been playing hide and seek with me over the passing months—a game which I have been failing miserably. The closest thing I feel is physical pain as I watch the fight slowly leave Knox day in and day out as we continue the same torturous cycle of searching for the king.

Scratch that, he isn’t a king anymore. Nobody with a heart as evil as his should be. He isn’t even a dark lord—that would be giving him far too much power, one that is undeserving.

His name is Peter, and nothing else.

When I first embarked into the Fae lands—into Azalea—and learned of Knox’s story, of how he and his court searched endlessly for a cure to their retreating magic for nearly one hundred and fifty years, I couldn’t help but wonder how he kept going, how he had the will to wake up every day and fight the same battle with no end in sight.

I no longer have to wonder. Not after being shoved into a situation far too similar for my liking.

Turning my back on the blazing creatures at our feet, I wrap my arms around Knox’s neck, forcing his gaze to lock on mine. The door between our minds, to the bridge that connects our souls, flies open, allowing Knox’s emotions to crash along our shores. Mine haven’t graced it in weeks.

I feareverything that has transpired has been too much for my heart.

The sheer pain caused by Hazel’s betrayal, and Ace’s loss, and the knowledge that I was the one who brought her into Ace’s path… When the knowledge of it all rises to the surface, threatening to come out of the box I shoved it into, it’s not a fear but a promise that it will bring me to my knees.

And so I continue to shove it down, down, down, into a place so dark within my mind I hope I’ll forget it completely. But what I don’t mind feeling, what I cling to with a death grip, is pure, unadulterated fury.

It’s the only thing that continues to expand my lungs, that makes it so I can keep placing one foot in front of the other. It is the only thing holding me upright.

Knox, on the other hand—the sweetheart that he is—can never shut it off. It’s there when he wakes up, it’s there when he fights, and it’s there when he sleeps. He cannot escape it.

I haven’t dared breech what goes through his mind because, in all honesty, I don’t want to feel it out of fear that once I hear him talk about it, my emotions will take it as an invitation to pour out of me.

So I stand there, taking the brunt of his, all the while he gazes into my ice-blue eyes burning with hatred and wrath. With the need to destroy those who have taken so much from us.

“You will keep going, Knox.”

The words Knox once promised me, the soft-spoken vow of his devoted love, floats through my mind, and I allow the memory to glide down the bridge to his soul, too.

You must be strong as you face this, but on the days where you cannot find the courage, I’ll be strong for the both of us.

My voice lowers to a whisper, to a lover’s caress. “We will be strong for each other. We will share our strength so that when that day comes, we will destroy him. We will get the revenge we so rightfully deserve.” Dropping my forehead to his chest, I bask in his warmth. “We just have to keep going.”

His eyes fill with silver. “One day at a time,” he says, his voice thick and gravelly. He opens his mouth to speak again, but in his next breath, the floor beneath us vibrates, quaking so ferociously that my legs shake. A stampede of footfalls fill the cave’s tunnel to our right.

“They’re coming.”

Groaning, I pull my head back. “They’re faster today.”

This has been my and Knox’s new “normal,” hunting down demonic creatures in an attempt to locate the king. Usually it leads nowhere—if anything, it just gives them an opportunity to snatch me instead—but today, for once, is different.

“Maybe he knows the hounds coughed up where he’s been hiding,” I say. Knox’s palm comes to rest on my lower back, ushering me toward the cave’s mouth.

“Let’s pray he doesn’t. For once I want the element of surprise.”

The footfalls ring louder, the herd of demonic creatures fast approaching.

“We could take them,” I find myself blurting as the golden swirl of magic within me rises without my doing. Gods, it’s more forceful today, moving my tongue to get its way.

Gritting my teeth, I allow a little kernel of flame to shoot toward the firepit to appease it. Only, a large fireball bursts out instead.

I curse. See, this is the reason I cannot let you out! I scream in my mind.

Knox glances from the firepit then back to me, the hint of a smirk dancing across his lips. “Feeling a tad cocky today, are we?”

My chin rises. “You call it cocky, I call it confidence in my abilities.”

“And would that be your fighting or magic abilities?” he pries, pushing me along faster as the footfalls become deafening.

“I have been managing just fine without magic.” Although as I say this, it continues to hammer against my chest, roaring its outrage.

Knox wraps me in his arms, catapulting us forward to the exit. Below, the waves crash against the cliff, beckoning us as the stampede draws nearer.

“One of these days you’re going to have to use your powers again.”

“Well that day isn’t today,” I quip.

“Are you sure about that?” he asks and something about his voice has me bristling. “It seems to me as if it wants to escape.”

“Yes, and take me with it. Don’t do anything foolish.”

I can feel his cheeks pull into a smile along my skin. “I would never. But as concerned as I am with your growing powers, I’m more concerned with how you’re bottling it up. You need to release it.”

A roar of outrage comes from the cave system at our backs, probably the demons finding the hounds we scorched.

“I have been releasing it,” I say through gritted teeth, annoyance humming throughout my body as my magic screams at my lie. It wants large releases, not the pesky little ones I’ve been allowing it.

“Do you think I’m a good teacher?” Knox asks suddenly.

I frown. “This isn’t really the time, Knox.”

“Do you think I’m a good teacher?” he repeats.

“Seriously? We have demons chasing us and you want an ego boost?”

He tsks. “Say it, Angel. Say I’m a good teacher.”

“Fine, you’re a good teacher. Now what?—”

“Good, because it’s time you learned how to fly.”

It’s the last thing I hear before Knox catapults me into the air.

With a scream of pure horror, I fall, careening for the jagged rocks below. I instinctively reach a hand out behind me, searching for a handhold, only to recoil as my eyes connect with dozens of demonic creatures, frothing at the cave mouth, forced to halt lest they fall into the ocean.

I scream once more as my back connects with something hard and warm. A huff mixes with the rushing wind trying to rip my hair from its braid. Twisting onto my stomach, and trying to regain my breath, I right myself atop Aurora, whose feelings of amusement trickle down our bond.

Sliding my hand through her thick raven fur, I lean forward. “You wouldn’t be the one laughing if Knox threw you off a cliff.”

Knox’s boisterous laugh comes from beside me. Aurora and I turn to find his magnificent black wings flared, flapping leisurely as he rides a strong current of air.

“I could have died!”

Humor dances in his eyes. “You certainly don’t look dead to me.”

I huff out a laugh devoid of humor and face forward. It isn’t long before Aurora lets out a low grunt as Knox joins me, wrapping his arms around my waist.

It takes everything within me not to elbow him.

“You could have flown,” he teases in my ear.

“Don’t remind me.”

His low chuckle reverberates all the way down to my toes.

“You’re not that horrid at it,” he drawls.

Now I elbow him in the stomach, grinning as he grunts. “You know very well I landed squarely on my face that last lesson.”

“Eleven times.”

“Don’t remind me.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Gods, that was a horrid lesson.”

Knox is a fabulous teacher for magic, as loathe as I may be to admit it now. But still, I’ve yet to master flying, and I fear I may never at this rate.

“You’ll get there soon, Angel. In no time you’ll be flying faster than Lenox.”

My shoulder blades tingle, the skin burning as if my wings have become conscious of our discussion. It takes all my willpower to keep them from flaring.

“I know I will.”

Because I have to is what I don’t say aloud.

“It wouldn’t have made a difference,” Knox says softly, repeating the words that he has whispered many times over the passing weeks. He knows. Of course he knows why I’ve demanded in any free time we can find that he and Lenox teach me how to fly.

The only reason we rode horses that horrid night all those weeks ago was because I was the only one who couldn’t fly.

The memory leaves a sour taste in my mouth, one that brings forth tears that I furiously blink away.

Clenching my teeth so hard I’m surprised I don’t hear a crack I shove all thoughts of Ace’s throat being slit like Easton’s, and Hazel’s traitorous face, from my mind.

I try not to think of that night, yet it’s hard.

How can you not relive the evening that changed everyone’s lives for the worse? The very moment that altered the trajectory of our fates? That night has left its mark on all of our hearts, in more ways than one.

The stars have woven a horrid fate. One that could have been intercepted at three times in my life.

The first being when I ran from the castle.

If I hadn’t, Easton would still be alive, and so would Ace. Annie and Eleanor, too. We would have all remained trapped under Peter’s thumb—but they would be alive .

The second time being when I befriended Hazel. That will haunt me for the rest of my days.

But the other time that truly haunts me is when we chose to ride the horses—when I was the thing holding us all back from flying. Sure, Knox could have carried me but truth be told he knew he needed strength for what was ahead. There’s no doubt in my mind that we could have reached Ace sooner if we had flown. We could have intercepted his kidnapper.

There is a truth lying among all these events that cannot be argued—my choices lead to tragedy. Another unfortunate truth: everyone around me dies.

Leaning back into Knox’s warmth, I close my eyes and take a steadying breath through my nose as my past and its repercussions threaten to take me under. “I don’t want to talk about it yet.”

“There is going to come a day where you will have to because if you continue to bottle up everything you are feeling, you will explode.”

“The same can be said for you. There’s certainly a lot you are avoiding. Perhaps what has become of certain members?—”

“We’re not talking about me right now.”

A snort escapes me. “Perhaps we should be.”

“And where would the fun be in that?”

Knox falls quiet, the sound of the sea and wind lapping around us filling the comfortable silence until a deep sigh from Knox has my eyes opening.

“It’s so odd to see it this quiet.”

My gaze lowers, snagging on the aerial legion below as Aurora flies over the soundless island that was once bustling with daily activity. It looks deserted—because it is deserted.

Dragons, griffins, and their riders haven’t stepped foot on the island since the first attack eight and a half weeks ago. Little did they know that once they took off, it was going to be the last they would see of the island for two months. Others…the last time, period. And with no return date in sight, who knows if they will ever see the island again.

The attack on the Fae border, where the Mason River glides between the human and Fae lands, was the first of many. One we thought we could conquer and come out of the battle as saviors. That was until Peter ripped open a portal in the sky and the demonic army we had been searching for returned.

We lost thousands of men and creatures that day.

It stained the Mason River red, and it hasn’t returned to its natural state since.

I was there. I was right alongside Knox as we watched the horde of demons stream out of that portal. I was right alongside his court as we wept not only for Ace but for the people of Aloriah. I was there , and yet the memory is as hazy as a winter morning fog. It’s as if my mind is protecting me, as if it knows that I’m far too haunted by everything else, and adding one more thing will crumble me.

And I’m okay with that. Just knowing what occurred that tragic day is enough in itself. I don’t need the constant visual reminder, too.

My head shakes in disbelief. “I never thought it would come to this, yet every day we grow closer to my vision coming to fruition.”

It’s what started all of this, this path of loss, destruction, and war. After seeing the dark army and two cloaked figures destroying Aloriah, burning everything and everyone in it, we set forth to stop the darkness. Instead, I unmasked secrets, lies, and deception, unweaving a fate that was orchestrated by Peter, one who was never my father but a monster in disguise.

A monster no one can kill until we discover his true face.

Knox drops his head to my shoulder. “There’s so much out of our control and so many questions we need answered before we can act. Let’s pray to the forgotten gods that Peter truly is located at the in-between.”

“I’d rather pray for Peter’s head on a spike.”

Spike.

The word brings forth a memory, one that flashes across my mind’s eye, there and gone, plunging its claws of pain into my heart before I can stop it. My family, my three loves—Annie, Easton, and my mother—on a spike.

I physically shake my head, trying to fling the memory away.

“He really is a bastard. Of all the places in Aloriah to hide out, that is where he chooses?” I release a snarl. “I want to destroy it.”

Knox pauses. “Peter?”

“No, the treehouse. It hasn’t been my treehouse in a very long time, and that bastard thinks his presence there will hurt me again. I want it gone, wiped away from existence.” My teeth ache from how hard I grit my teeth. “I want him to perish.”

“You ready to finally make your play?” Knox asks.

“It’s about damn time we stopped playing defense.”

Knox’s arms tighten around my waist, his lips brushing the shell of my ear as he says softly, “There will come a day, Delilah, when you will spill his blood. A day where you will take what is rightfully yours, and in the process destroy all he has ever cherished.” He kisses the side of my neck, eliciting goosebumps. “We just have to keep going.”

Just keep going.

It’s the motto we murmur every day to one another, in the moments where grief threatens to steal our hearts and sink our souls, when the memories of our loved ones try to drown us, when the sun feels as if it’s never going to set.

But a new day always comes, and with it, a small kernel of hope.

We just have to keep going.

“As one?” I ask.

“As one,” he vows.

The bond tightens between us, simmering with an emotion I haven’t dared to say aloud. One that I feel every time I look into Knox’s eyes. One with three words, three syllables, and eight letters…but gets trapped in my throat every time.

It’s simple, really. Everyone I say I love you to dies. And the one thing I could never bear is losing Knox.

I’d rather die along with him.

A low rumble permeates the air. A moment later, Aurora’s responding cry has my back straightening and Knox’s body stiffening.

“Zephlyn must be home.”

Knox’s estate looms along the horizon, making my heart sink and my stomach bottom out. It used to be a joyous sight, one that felt welcoming as it urged you inside with its promise of laughter and light. Now it’s nothing more than rooms and halls that contain haunting memories.

As we approach, my gaze lands on the large white creature, stalking the lands of Knox’s estate. Aurora must have felt his closeness, their mating bond singing at finally being reunited.

But by the griffin’s slumped form, misery isn’t far behind.

The moment Knox and I slide off Aurora’s back she’s running, pouncing on Zephlyn with a deep purr of relief. A flurry of love trickles down the bond between her and me. I firmly shut the door to our connection as the griffins brush against each other’s manes and disappear into the barn.

Beside me, Knox is frozen facing the house, his entire body coiled tight. I trail my fingers up his arm until my palm rests against the top of his shoulder. His body loosens, just a fraction.

“Let me go this time.”

He shakes his head quickly. “No.”

Dropping my hand, I round Knox, only stopping when I’m before him. The sorrow I find encasing his entire being is so potent my body physically jolts at the sight.

It’s killing him.

Watching his people perish, walking into a house full of his court’s misery. All that Peter has done to him and continues to do is destroy his soul, bit by bit.

Rising onto the tips of my toes, ignoring the way my heart somersaults as Knox turns to me with a thick sheen in his eyes, I lay a hand on his cheek, the stubble he’s yet to shave brushing against my calluses.

“Summon Nolan and Lenox. Devise a plan around the information we received.” Planting a kiss on Knox’s cheek, I whisper, “Let me do it.”

I quickly step into the house before Knox can utter another protest and climb the stairs, following the faint smell of liquor.

It doesn’t take me long to find him.

With tears streaming down his cheeks, and an almost empty bottle of amber liquid in his hands, stands Axel, swaying in the threshold of Ace’s bedroom door.