Page 9 of Queen of the Wicked (Afterlife #1)

Alessia

A lessia had nightmares before. She remembered them vividly, but none quite compared to the yellow, rotting teeth and hollowed-out face that was currently above her, blinking curiously.

She shot straight up in the room, a scream caught in her throat as she lurched away from the pointy canines.

The woman in front of her was horrifying.

Her teeth were as sharp as Alessia imagined a vampire’s were, and her fingernails were sharpened at the ends with tiny spikes of glass.

Alessia had never seen something so strange, so spine-chilling …

“She’s awake,” the woman hissed.

Oh, how her head pounded. Alessia braced her fingers on her temples as they continued to throb and tried to remember what had happened last before she wound up here, in front of this woman who looked like…

A witch.

The witch’s cottage.

Alessia had learned the legends and read about them during her studies.

She had learned that witchcraft could be used for good, too, but ultimately, witches could do whatever they wanted—spells, magic, potions…

She knew in one heartbeat, without a second thought, she could be dead and become this witch’s next meal if that was what she desired.

“A-Am I safe?” Alessia asked.

The witch laughed. “I do not have a choice in the matter, do I?”

She didn’t understand why she’d say that until a figure moved on the other side of the room.

Erebos had stood from a rocking chair in front of a stone fireplace and sauntered over to where the witch stood.

He seemed well-rested, and that only made her question everything even further. How long was she out for?

Oh, God. Her powers manifested in front of Erebos. Or were those his powers? Everything was so confusing. She needed answers. And she needed to get his stupid powers out of her.

“Can you tell what my magic is?” Alessia asked quietly.

The witch circled the kitchen table she was sitting on before she clicked her tongue. “No, I cannot. I’m afraid you are not something I have ever come into contact with before.”

“A mortal?” she guessed.

“No,” the witch responded. “I do not know what you are, but it is far from mortal. I have advised His Majesty to go and find the Seeker for more information about this rather odd exchange of power.”

The Seeker… Alessia racked her brain for any me mories that might supply her with information, but came up short. She knew nothing of dark magic. Erebos looked pale and ghostly, though, so this seeker must not be very pleasant to interact with.

“And where do we find it?” she asked the brooding old woman.

Erebos rolled his shoulders and sighed. “In the pits.”

“The pits of what?” Erebos remained silent as she pieced it together. “The pits of Hell? You’ve got to be insane. There’s no way I’m going there.”

“We must,” he replied. “I need my powers back, and if the Seeker has the answers, then so be it.”

“You’re a fool,” she shot back. “Are you honestly considering risking your life to get your powers back? Are they really that important?”

Erebos took two powerful strides toward her with his head held high and nothing but determination written across his face.

With every step he took, she could see how many years he had lived, how nothing but the immortal life he had lived shone through.

He radiated power even if he didn’t currently possess any.

“I have dealt with decades of pain for this, Mortal , and I won’t stand aside and allow you to walk away with the gifts I was born with.

We made a blood pact for a reason. Choose not to go and die. Your choice.”

Alessia cocked her head to the side. “And what will happen to your powers if I croak?”

He leaned in towards the table, his face so close to hers she could feel his breath against her lips. “I don’t think you want to find out,” he snarled.

“I’ll be dead,” she whispered back, her confidence faltering. “It won’t matter.”

He smirked devilishly. “You killed a seraph. You’ll be returned to me if you die, and trust me when I say that I can inflict just as much pain without the power you stole from me. I wouldn’t risk it.”

Just then, a large gust of air broke against the cottage, causing the wooden floors to groan. Erebos whipped his head around to the door over his shoulder, his knuckles growing white against the side of the table on which Alessia was still lying.

“I’ll get it,” the witch muttered. “If it’s any danger, you won’t be of use anyway, boy.

” She strode to the door and opened it to reveal the largest man Alessia had ever seen.

He was about twice the size of Erebos, not in height, but in width.

The muscled man nodded once to the witch, who stepped aside to let him pass.

A young woman who was hidden behind his muscular body stepped in after, completely decked out with weapons.

Alessia eyed the dagger strapped to her side and the sword sheathed behind her back.

The woman had such a small frame, and yet some part of her recognized she was a woman not to be messed with.

Alessia watched as she assumed her position against the wall with an angle to strike at every person in the room, her hand roaming to the hilt of the dagger.

Alessia had a feeling there were more weapons hidden beneath her tunic and pants.

“I don’t think I have ever felt more relieved to see familiar faces,” Erebos said. “How did you find me?”

The muscular man bowed, showcasing a golden shine of wavy, cropped hair. “I was in contact with your…” He scanned over Alessia and grimaced. “With your traveling companion.”

Erebos whirled toward her, the iciness in his gaze freezing her on the spot. “Were you now?” he asked.

“She informed me about your situation,” he said carefully, looking quizzically between them. “We would have been here sooner, but the mortal didn’t specify which of the cottages you were heading to.”

“It’s Alessia,” she muttered under her breath. Both the muscular man and woman widened their eyes at her outburst. The dark-skinned woman with long black braids tightened her grip on the hilt of the dagger as if preparing herself to use it.

Erebos waved her off. “Don’t. She is too valuable at the moment to kill.”

Alessia paled. “And when our blood pact is completed, you’ll allow her to shove that dagger through my heart?”

The burly sack of a man started to cough uncontrollably, placing a hand over his chest just as the young woman sucked in a sharp breath. The witch just laughed.

“How does she know…?” The young woman paid more attention to Alessia, roaming her eyes over her hair still speckled with the seraph's blood.

Her skin was covered with dirt and grime, and Alessia bet she looked nothing remotely like someone important enough to form a blood pact with her treasured lord.

“Later,” the lord said tightly. “Right now, we must return to Hell. I need to formulate a plan to find the Seeker. Can you Travel us?”

The burly man bristled but nodded all the same and dipped his head appreciatively to the witch. “Thank you for looking after him, Allegra. We apologize that we couldn’t be here sooner. I hope your daughter is well.”

Erebos gripped Alessia’s elbow and pulled her off the table to get to her feet as the man the size of a small building extended his arm out for them to grasp.

Alessia’s body shook from head to toe. The minute she put her hand on his arm, she’d be exposed completely to the world of magic—a world entirely foreign to her.

Hell was the carrier of plumes and eternal rings of fire.

It was said to be the place where a person's darkest nightmares rest, an endless landscape of misery and despair that plagued even the strongest of minds. But if she didn’t go, she would die, so despite every bone in her body telling her to run out of this cottage, she had to follow through with this.

Keep moving forward, no matter the sacrifice.

Don’t look back.

“We don’t have all day,” Erebos said tightly. “Grab onto his arm, Mortal.”

Alessia raised her eyes to his, refusing to back down from his stare. “Correct your sentence with my real name, and then I might consider it.”

The young woman beside her arched a brow at her audacity. Still, Alessia could have sworn her lips twitched, threatening a smile as Erebos released an irritated sigh.

“Grab onto his arm, Alessia,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Much better.” Alessia reluctantly placed her hand on top of the man’s arm, far too close to Erebos for her liking, and before she knew it, the wind whipped around them at all different speeds, carrying them directly into Hell’s deathly clutches.