Page 64 of Wicked Magik

This heart must be concealed in a hidden location, where not a single soul could stumble upon it. Should it fall into the wronghands, the bearer of this powerful artifact could essentially command the lich's every action or even bring about its demise.

Unlike other beings, when a lich meets its end, it does not journey to the Under Shadows.

A lich’s soul will never descend to the Under Shadows to rest.

The very essence of the lich's soul is violently pulverized and obliterated, consumed in a brutal series of dark spells and potent potions to achieve the lich's final transformation. This ruthless magik anchors their corpse in a state of eternal undeath, rendering their power formidable and nearly unstoppable.

Forever the lich will stay on the living plane and never rest.

It was rather sad.

For that trade, however, he could pull dark magik from the Under Shadows. He was powerful.

Liches always fear their heart being discovered because if someone finds it, they can control them or destroy them completely.

I became so consumed by what he had done to himself I wanted to forget all the other books that Benedict gave me, but I knew I had to move on. I had to know what this world around me was like.

The realm I was now in was called Velmoura. Mostly a fae species realm with some small minority races such as vampires, goblins, fairies, and other sorts I haven’t even heard of. The history spoke most of the land being peaceful but that made me shake my head immediately.

No lands are peaceful, Earth was never peaceful and even with magik I highly doubt fae got along all the time.

These books were old however, and I didn’t know what year I was in currently. Something I would have to ask Benedict about later. Anyway, I did figure out that the lands were split into several courts and Lord Veylor is part of the Shadow Court located in the Duskhold territory.

It made sense.

He was tall, dark, and dreary.

Lord Valium suited him.

He needed to get laid.

He had no emotions other than scowling and looking constipated. He does throw a great tantrum though with all the puffy clouds and lightning bolts. Good thing I did read that book about dark magik and what it entailed.

If he didn’t act like he had an incubus horn up his ass he might even look handsome.

Who was I kidding? He was handsome, and that made me want to hate him more.

There was a pull there that made me want to get to know him, just like I did Oryx, which was strange. That little longing to figure him out, but I couldn’t, not the way I did with Oryx.

Veylor was the one who created Oryx, and they were friends.

Maybe more? He had dark intense eyes when he looked at Oryx. Maybe there was something there.

My role was simply to assist in mending their relationship. It was wise to keep my strong aversion to the tall, dark, skeletal figure with a sharp jawline and wispy hair—who exuded a "maybe I can fix him" aura—separate from my emotions. Maintaining a mere acquaintanceship with him was the most sensible approach.

It was good to work with him for a short time, teach him to sew skin, and that be that.

Besides, Oryx was everything sweet, obsessive, and possessive. Everything I wanted.

Veylor looked at me in disgust.

That didn’t bother me.

No, I didn’t care.

Not one bit.

I didn’t want to get to know him other than use him to make my Orie happy, because I loved him.