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Daimon

There was always a part of Daimon that knew he would lose Evelina. Even with their souls bound, their bond didn’t connect to the physical world—to their physical bodies. His hand, smooth of the scar, was proof that their love couldn’t exist in this realm.

She would be queen, bound to wed another, and he would go to the border just as he always had.

The crowd surrounded her, offering praise and whispers of blessings. Senna stepped to her side, helping her back to the palace. Daimon watched them disappear into the crowd, while he faded into the background.

A council meeting was called, but he stayed away, sending Brielle in his—and Keir’s—stead. He couldn’t bear to face Evelina.

Within a few short hours, they declared the wedding would be happening tomorrow, a ceremony to go along with the coronation. Brielle told him the news as if she were afraid he’d keel over at any moment. Maybe she was right to worry.

He left and found Zephyr. Without a word, he jumped onto her back and flew into the night sky. His throat burned like acid as he swallowed down the pain that consumed him .

He ran through the last several hours in his head, reviewing how everything had changed so quickly.

Fate had decided for him after all.

A pain that wasn’t his shot through their bond. He knew his wyvern was mourning the loss of Evelina just as he was.

“There’s a wedding happening today,” he murmured.

Zephyr growled, and the itchy sensation that came with her annoyance filled him.

There was always a part of him that knew he would lose Evelina.

“It’s too hard to go back, Z.” His voice broke.

Zephyr cried out, her flight slowing. She turned her head to look back at him, a burst of agony shooting Daimon straight in the chest. Her golden eyes drifted to the palace disappearing in the distance behind them.

“It’ll only make it harder on both of us to have to say goodbye.”

This time, he felt anger from Zephyr. But he wasn’t ready to say goodbye to Evelina yet. He wanted to pretend she was still his for at least a few more hours.

Zephyr shook her head and growled. She thought he was being stupid.

“She’s getting married , Z.”

But how could he leave her without a word? He was her protector when she needed it, her dream away from the world when there were storms she couldn’t weather. There were years he wasn’t there for her. He couldn’t do that to her again. If she needed him to support her rise as queen, he would do it. No matter how painful it was for him.

“I can’t leave without seeing her,” he whispered to Zephyr, realizing he had to turn around.

He needed to find her before the sun rose, to give him enough time before the wedding and coronation.

Zephyr dipped her left wing instantly, spinning them back toward the palace, when a gust of wind pushed them back .

A blur of darkness flashed in the corner of his eye. He twisted around, feeling Zephyr slow the moment he saw it. Anger seared down their bond, hot and fiery like a heated iron rod poking at his chest.

She reared back and hovered in the air. Her wings beat steadily.

There was only one person who preferred their meetings to happen in the sky.

“Interesting how things have played out.” Nyx lowered from above, descending until he floated level before Daimon. “Who could’ve guessed the devout and perfect Carwyn would turn to the dark gods?”

Daimon’s nostrils flared. “You’ve known this entire time she wouldn’t be crowned queen.”

Nyx waved him off, unbothered. “It isn’t a matter we should involve ourselves with.” He folded his hands behind his back, his smile unwavering. “The Eternal Crown may have passed to a different heir, but your birthright still awaits you.”

Daimon thought back to his encounter with Vidaris in the Celestial Plane. The day will soon come that you will take your place by my side.

“This war isn’t over,” Daimon seethed. “I’ll never offer more power to her.”

“Power to her?” Nyx hovered closer, confusion marring his face. “I don’t think you understand what this means,” he said slowly. “Yes, if you rule the Shadow Realm, Vidaris will be free to use her powers elsewhere. But you will gain power too.”

Daimon would never get Nyx to understand why he wanted no part in ruling the shadows. Nyx was a god, not bound by emotions, love, or duties of the heart.

“I understand perfectly,” Daimon growled. It was Nyx who didn’t understand. “I don’t want the Shadow Realm.”

Nyx’s lips curled sharply, like a cat staring at its dinner. “Even if it meant you could end this war?” He tilted his head. “Not even to save your precious kingdom? ”

The air between them tensed.

“Being a servant of Vidaris won’t make any power I gain worth its price,” Daimon hissed.

Lightning crackled in the air, causing the hair on Daimon’s arms to rise. Shadows gathered around Nyx, slithering up his ankles in two strands like twining snakes. They gathered at his waist and crossed over his chest, flickering against his neck.

Nyx had always been so calm, so confident and unbothered during their meetings. One could almost forget that he was a god.

But now Daimon was reminded of who he truly was. The God of Fear and Dreams, the god who crafted the first Nocturna, the one from whom they derived their shadows. Their shadows were watered-down and dampened compared to Nyx’s. His were unbridled, wild, untamed.

“Do not underestimate the gods.” His voice was different—darker. It was a low hum that rumbled like thunder. “Zenovia is the last big battlefront left. Think about it. If you ruled the Shadow Realm within the mountains, you would have full control over the border.”

Daimon’s blood turned to ice.

“If you take up this helm, you could end this war.”

His thoughts raced with the possibility of being able to change the tides of the war on his own. It was too good to be true, too obvious—right in front of him the entire time.

“I’m not falling for your tricks.”

“Not to mention the Shadow Realm is rumored to be the resting place of Nightfall,” Nyx added, ignoring Daimon. He was taunting him, dangling the things he wanted most in front of him.

“That blade is a myth.”

“Is it?” Nyx smiled. “What if you could find it and not only close the border, but kill Moros once and for all?”

Daimon stilled. Nightfall was a blade of the gods, a story told around a fire about the mighty weapon strong enough to pierce any darkness.

“Think it through,” Nyx said lightly, the shadows dispersing. His light and easy tone had returned, offering no sign of the power he had just displayed. “Though time is running out.”

A threat lingered behind the words. If Moros and his forces made it far enough into the border before it could be fortified, it would be too late.

All Nyx cared about was using Daimon to get him closer to stealing the Vale from Vidaris. He didn’t care about Daimon—nor did he care about saving this realm.

But Daimon cared. More than he ever had.

There wasn’t any room for Daimon to think it through . He could save them all.

Nyx smiled, pleased. “I warned you about this day.” He drifted upward, now looking down at Daimon from where he hovered. “It would’ve been easier on you to cut these ties long ago.”

Daimon didn’t want to think about the ties he was about to cut. The family he was leaving behind.

“How do I accept?” he asked, his voice rough.

Nyx’s smile turned feral. “You go to the Zenovia Mountains and pray to Vidaris. She will lead you. If you accept her deal, you will become the Lord of the Shadows, made to usher lost souls into the Vale and keep watch over the Shadow Realm. Your shadows will be at their greatest strength, though you will be bound away forever from the realms of light.”

Daimon swallowed. He would be giving his soul to shadow, ferrying the fae punished to an afterlife away from the light of Caelum to their eternal torment in the Vale. He had spent his whole life hiding his shadows, terrified of what it meant to have such a power—but it all came to this.

“But be wary of crossing into the Vale,” Nyx warned. “You may rule the Shadow Realm, but to cross into the Vale is to give yourself over fully to Vidaris. Darkness would consume you. ”

The god disappeared into the clouds with no final parting, leaving Daimon to make the choice alone.

There was so much more he wanted than to be bound to that wretched realm. He wanted more for his life, more than what his father planned for him.

But he would do it. For the realm—for Evelina—he would give himself over to Vidaris and rule the Shadow Realm.

Fate was cruel that way.

It showed him the possibility of having his deepest desires—and then ripped it away.