Page 47 of Zepharali: Lord of the East Winds (Lords of the Wind Book 3)

Lazaar

Once Lazaar and his beloved were alone, and most of the people of Scáthanna had retired to their homes, his titan whispered in his ear, “I know you’ve already received an abundance of gifts this eve, but I have one last present for you.”

“Is it you on a pile of silk sheets, behind a rushing waterfall, and the warm glow of lanterns on your gorgeous skin?”

“Mmm, that too…but after…”

Lazaar was joyously startled when Zepharali hefted him into his arms, wrapped his legs around his waist, and bolted into the sky.

“You do know I can fly also?”

“I know, but I still like you in my arms when we do.”

“Where are you taking me, lord?”

“You’ll see.”

“Are we even in Scáthanna anymore?”

After several minutes, Zepharali landed gently, though his impact was still indicative of a titan, and set him back on his feet.

“Where are we? I don’t think I’ve been here.”

“You haven’t. This is the Sanctum Thundercloud. It’s the farthest mountain from my suns. The thick canopies of the aspen trees make it difficult for light to penetrate. But no one dares to venture this far because when my suns have set, it’s the darkest land in the realm.”

Zepharali held his hand tightly and asked, “Can you see?”

“Of course I can, and it’s gorgeous.” Lazaar gazed around at the murky-colored moss hanging like drapes from the dark limbs of the aspens.

They smelled of pine and damp earth, so similar to his secluded world, Chessuven. Instead of feeling jolted at the memory, he looked back on his one thousand years with appreciation for the safety and comfort it’d provided.

“I want to build my own refuge here, right there in the nook of those spiny shrubs and decaying leaves.” Lazaar smiled.

It felt eerie and held a mystery of danger and suspense. His vampire liked it.

“Is that why you brought me here, lord?” Lazaar hugged him. “I absolutely love it.”

Zepharali shook with his light chuckle. “I had a feeling you would, but that’s not your surprise.”

“What could be more surprising than this?” Lazaar fingered the carpet of maroon succulents.

“Them, my love.”

Lazaar turned to see two shadowy figures appear from behind a large, thorny bush amongst a thick cloud of black smoke.

The first was tall and skeletal, with piercing onyx eyes and an almost cruel smile stretching across his face. His long, bony fingers were tipped with sharp nails and clutching the hand of the second one.

The other was just as tall but a bit stockier, with a narrow face and stern jaw as he stared at Lazaar with ghostly silver eyes.

There was something so familiar about them, and he racked his mind, trying to remember why.

They were clad in dark robes that flowed in the wind and their presence filled the air with a sense of doom. A feeling that drew him closer, tugging at his inner darkness.

“Look at you, just as striking as we knew you’d grow to be.” Their voices were cold and cruel, yet soothing.

Lazaar frowned. “Announce yourselves.”

“I am Zar’uuth Nyateagor, the Lord Warlock of the Realm of Dark Days.”

“And I am Al’goth Nyateagor, Fire Lord of the Ash Lands.”

The dank air caught in Lazaar’s lungs, quickening his pulse as a thrill of sweet danger vibrated under his skin.

“We are your fathers, tribrid.” Zar’uuth’s voice sounded full of authority, one that could instill instant fear.

“You are as exceptional as we thought you’d be,” Al’goth added.

“You came to see me?” Lazaar gritted around a closed throat and unshed tears.

“Yes, son. We have been summoned by your lord and welcomed into his realm,” one of the fire lords said. “We have come in answer to the call.”

“Please come closer, Lazaaras. Let us gaze and bask in your magnificent darkness,” the warlock asked.

Lazaar did as asked, not stopping until he was clutched in a bone-crushing hug.

“Forgive us for our methods of keeping you safe through seclusion. But we knew your mother and her demons would come for you.”

“She violated our bedchamber, but we don’t regret it, for we—even through deception—created the one and only tribrid.”

In their embrace, Lazaar felt evil and love in their core. A love that came from him.

They released him and stared a moment longer.

“I wish we could stay, but dark lords are not allowed to dwell in a titan’s realm, especially not one in control of a great element.”

“Will I ever see you again?” Lazaar blinked away the emotion welling and overflowing inside.

“You have the power to summon us at your will…and we will always answer.” His father, Al’goth, seemed to hesitate when pulling away, taking his warlock with him in his arms.

With a final nod, they vanished into a cloud of pure darkness.

Zepharali came up behind him and wrapped his strong arms around his waist.

“Now this place will always hold one of your fondest memories.”

“Your generosity overwhelms me, beloved.”

“Have I pleased you, your grace?’

“Yes, my lord. And I will show you at every moment. At every rise and descent of your suns, for the rest of our days.”

The End of the Lords of the Wind Series