Page 28

“Fair,” Jewel agreed. “There was the Troll Realm, which I didn’t know was a thing, even though I knew trolls existed.

Peri never spoke about their realm. I guess I just thought they’d always lived in the human realm, like werewolves.

There was one realm that was mentioned only a couple of times.

And it didn’t seem like the author of the book really believed what they were writing.

” Jewel paused and looked around the area surrounding them.

“It was described like this, now that I think about it. I guess my mind has been on other things that I didn’t even pay attention to this environment. ”

“Not that I don’t love a good story,” Heather interjected, “but is there an answer somewhere in this?”

Jewel dropped her legs down, crossed them, then folded her arms across her chest. Her leg began to bounce as she looked at Fane. “It was called the Realm of the Dead.”

“So we are in hell,” Heather declared, as she slapped her hands onto her thighs. “I didn’t need a book to tell me that.”

Jewel shook her head. “No, it was made very clear that this realm was not hell.”

Fane wondered how he’d never heard of this realm. How had his father never told him about it? Had his father even known about it? It was hard for Fane to consider that his father didn’t know everything because he always seemed to have an answer for Fane, no matter his question.

Fane cleared his throat, pulling himself from his thoughts. “How is it different?”

“The book said that hell was only where evil supernatural beings went. Like evil, evil.”

“Are there really levels of evil?” Heather asked, dryly. “Because in my book, evil is the opposite of good. No variation or scales.”

Andora clasped her hands and let them rest in her lap. “What about those who do evil but are repentant of their actions?”

Heather tilted her head to the side. “That begs the question, were they truly evil? Is there a difference between doing something evil and being evil?”

“Good point.” Andora agreed. “Did the book make a distinction, Jewel?”

Fane considered all the beings he’d encountered over the past years since meeting his mate, and there were only two that he could say had committed an evil act and weren’t actually evil: Cynthia and Myanin.

Both of their actions had been guided by anger and resentment, but in the end, they’d repented and even atoned for their actions.

In his mind, that meant there was definitely a difference in those who did evil things versus those who were actually evil.

“Yes,” Jewel answered. “I mean, it was kind of convoluted in the explanation, but I understood it.”

“You’re a genius,” Heather pointed out. “Of course you understood it. Dumb it down for us regular folk.”

“Hell is for those who have lost the possibility of redemption,” Jewel explained.

“Redemption is what is given when a person, or in our case supernatural, has not only sought forgiveness for their wrongdoing but turned away from that evil. They’ve done a complete 180.

They recognize that they cannot have a foot in darkness and a foot in light.

“One who has let the darkness consume them, and repeatedly chosen to pursue those things that are malevolent and despicable, are the ones destined for hell. The book also explained that the moment that is decided is upon their last breath, because that is the moment the option to choose has been forfeited.”

“That’s really depressing,” Heather grumbled, tossing a rock across the ground. “So the rainbow in this story is that those evil people are not here with us. Correct?”

Jewel nodded. “That is true, but that doesn’t mean that those who are here are actually good, per se.”

“You’re not instilling confidence in my rainbow.” Heather narrowed her eyes at the other healer, despite the fact that she couldn’t actually see her.

Jewel tilted her head to the side as she looked at the blind healer. “My job is to tell you what I read. Not instill confidence in the fairytale you want to believe.”

Heather’s brow rose. “Damn. You’ve gotten snarky in your newfound rebellious status.”

Jewel gave a derisive laugh. “It’s kind of hard not to be a part of this entire group, pack, whatever we want to call it, and not pick up on the snark factor.”

Heather nodded. “That is very true. Snark is as snark does.”

“That makes no sense.” Andora sighed as she shook her head.

“Anyways,” Jewel continued, “I left out some things about hell. The souls that go to hell become demons. They are not only tortured by their own misery, but they torture one another. They despise themselves and everyone around them.”

“Kind of hard not to despise wicked, nasty people or souls,” Heather pointed out.

Jewel reached up and tucked a strand of her strawberry-blonde hair behind her ear.

“Only the Great Luna can send a soul to hell. The Realm of the Dead, however, is where demons, supernatural creatures like ourselves, warlocks, and others reside. It was created by the god who is the antithesis of the Great Luna. He rules this realm but has been imprisoned here for thousands of years. According to the book, the djinn—the most powerful of the supernaturals, as we know—were the ones who sealed it.”

“Okay.” Heather put one finger up. “First, you said the demons were in hell. And this supposedly isn’t hell.

And second”—she popped up a second finger—“you’re saying we’re in a place where Antithesis god, who has been imprisoned for who the hell knows how long—and I imagine is pretty pissed off about that—wandering around like lost sheep ripe for the picking?

And there are demons here? How and since when are demons not bad? ”

Before Jewel could respond, Andora spoke up. “What was the name of this book that you read all this information in?”

Jewel’s face scrunched up as she tapped her chin.

“The title on the cover was actually in a language I didn’t know.

I mean, why would I know it? I don’t speak supernatural languages, but when I opened the book, the letters that hadn’t looked like letters at all began to move about until they formed words that were in the English language. ”

Fane shook his head. “Even a healer shouldn’t have the ability to transmorfmitify.”

“I’m sorry, tranmofo -what?” Heather asked, as she, too, now leaned toward Jewel.

“Transmorfmitify,” Fane repeated. “It’s the ability to change a supernatural language you don’t know into one you can read.”

Jewel huffed. “No offense, Alpha, but you seem to be forgetting that the rules in the supernatural world aren’t really absolutes.

They’re more like playground regulations that change at the whim of a child who has lost the game and suddenly needs to reform the injunctions in order to make it fit his agenda. ”

J ewel’s eyes snapped to Heather whose head had fallen back as a fit of giggles bubbled out of her. If the blind healer had been sitting in a chair, Jewel was pretty sure she’d have fallen out of it.

“Only you would use words like regulations, injunctions, and agenda to describe the scenario of a kid on a playground,” Heather said through her laughter.

“Glad my vocabulary entertains you.” Jewel shifted her body as she felt the ghostly thing of her mother move closer to her. Even without looking she knew when it was nearer because an icy chill ran down Jewel’s spine.

“Perhaps this little excursion won’t be as boring as I originally thought.” Heather sighed as her laughter died down.

Jewel had no doubt what they were going to be facing would be way more interesting than any of them wanted.

As she set aside her emotions about Dalton, her mother, and how she’d wronged all those she loved, she focused on the book that she’d read.

At the time, Jewel hadn’t thought anything about it.

It was just another interesting book in the Colorado Pack mansion.

She’d believed that she’d dealt with the emotions of losing her mother, killing all those innocent people, watching her friends be hurt and being unable to do anything about it, and learning about what Kara had endured.

But it had been eating her from the inside out.

So books had become a replacement for all the people she loved.

She couldn’t let books down. Books couldn’t die.

Books were a constant thing that she could return to again and again.

“Jewel.” Fane’s voice brought her out of her thoughts.

Her eyes, which had gone unfocused, once again were filled with the color of the red walls around them.

“Not to bring up painful memories,” Andora said, her voice gentle, “but high fae magic was used on you. Dark magic. And witch magic. Correct?”

Jewel nodded.

“There are texts that are written in languages that only those with dark magic inside of them are able to translate,” the queen continued. “Why Dillon has one or more—” A single brow rose as she looked at Jewel.

She shook her head. “That was the only one.”

Andora nodded. “Why Dillon had such a book is an interesting question.”

“Seems to me that a lot of supernatural crap ends up in places that it shouldn’t,” Heather pointed out. “Cough, cough, fae stones.”

“She’s not wrong,” Jewel agreed.

“Do you remember more of what it said?” Fane’s eyes glowed slightly, like Dalton’s did when his wolf was close to the surface.

“The ruler of the Realm of the Dead is called?—”

“Don’t,” Andora said quickly. “Names have power. We do not want to draw his attention.”

Heather shifted around as if trying to get more comfortable on the unforgiving ground. “I’m guessing a dude who is the ruler of this place and has been hanging out with nothing to do, for like ever, already knows we’re here.”