Eternity of Darkness (Divisa Huntress Book 3) Page 21

  No mother in their right mind would want their son to endure such grief, let alone be as fascinated as she was by the prospect. The queen looked as if she was anticipating the moment, eager to see her son give in wholly to the darkness that she gave him. Her glimmering eyes told me exactly what she believed would happen to Ashor if she killed me.

  He would go off the rails. He might just give the queen everything she longed for. A powerful, unrestrained, broken yet obedient son to help her rule Hell. Why couldn’t she find a lover to rule at her side? Why Ashor?

  Because there was no other demon, higher or lower, who had the depth of power he had residing within. I had felt it. A well with no bottom.

  In her own evil way, the queen was telling me that she had options, more than one way to trap Ashor, and whether I lived or died was entirely up to her.

  “If you think I will beg for my life, you’re mistaken,” I replied, my voice just above a whisper. I came here knowing I could die but had been willing to risk everything for Ashor. My soul. My heart. My life.

  Slipping the tiny bottle between the cell bars, she flicked her wrist, tossing the potion at me. It hit the floor with a high-pitched clang, the glass holding together flawlessly instead of cracking or shattering as I’d hoped. “How about I let you think about it?” she suggested. “A night, perhaps? Maybe after you’ve slept and had something decent to eat?”

  The vial rolled to the tip of my boot, and I had the mind to either kick it down the dungeon hallway or stomp on it. I did neither but lifted my head, giving the queen a defiant glare. “And if I still refuse?”

  “Simple. I choose for you.” She scrunched her nose, tapping a long, slender, pointy nail against her lips. “Or better yet, we let Soren decide. He seems to have taken a personal interest in you.” Her brows drew together. “Lucifer knows why both my sons are infatuated with such an average halfling.”

  The dig was the least of my worries.

  One day. I had one day to construct and map out a plan.

  It could be worse. She could have made the decision immediately, but the queen did love to taunt. She used her patience as a tactical weapon, prolonging the inevitable, at least in her mind. She wanted me to struggle over the choice, wanted to torment me with it.

  “Fuck you.” That was my answer to it all.

  “I’ll leave you to your thoughts.” She headed toward the stairwell, pausing at the base and twisting back toward me, her hand resting on the damp wall. “Oh, and if you talk to my son, don’t mention my little gift.” Then, like she was strutting down her personal runway, the Queen of Darkness left me alone.

  My legs gave, and I dropped to the ground. How they had managed to support me during our exchange, I couldn’t fathom. It wasn’t just the threat Kali’s existence posed but the lack of food and water. I was malnourished, my body weakening, and if I didn’t get some sustenance soon, my mind would follow. Not how I planned my internal takedown going. It was the little details you failed to see that fucked everything up.

  I couldn’t let that happen.

  I’d come too far.

  Blowing out a breath, I steadied myself, shifting on the floor to sit up. My hand grazed the tiny glass bottle. For a brief moment, I’d forgotten about the concoction. I wanted to continue forgetting about it. Flicking the vial with my finger, I sent it rolling to the corner of my cell where I hoped it rotted, or at the very least seeped into the stone floor.

  “Ngah?” I whispered into the dark, waiting for the shadows to stir. “Ngah,” I called again, waiting. Where was he? Why wasn’t he responding? It wasn’t like he could get up and walk out or wedge himself between the bars when I wasn’t looking. Was he ignoring me?

  A disgruntled sigh finally came from the cell across from mine. “Some of us sleep,” the ancient voice replied, a bit miffed.

  Sleep! How could he have fallen asleep while the very person responsible for his captivity stood just outside his cell? How could he doze off at the sound of her voice?

  “I’m sorry,” I replied, chewing on my lip to keep the bite out of my tone and failing. My visit with Ashor’s mother had riled me, but I needed answers. Answers someone as old as the Ngah might hold. “It’s just…”

  He moseyed into the dim light, the opalescence of his skin catching the flickering flames. “You are not alone,” he said.

  It was my turn to exhale. I didn’t question how he knew for a few seconds. I had been afraid he had left me, despite it being an unreasonable thought. The Ngah had been here for decades. He wasn’t about to just vanish now.

  Something in the way he said the statement led me to believe it was also meant broadly, as in, I wasn’t alone in this fight. Both gave me a sense of comfort that had no purpose in a place like this. The Court of Darkness's dungeon was not a place where one found peace or solace. It was where light, happiness, and dreams died.

  “How do you know things like that?” Perhaps it was rude of me to ask, seeing as I had no idea what kind of etiquette his world illustrated.

  “It isn’t easy to explain, but souls, whether they are human or demon, have what you call auras. It is like a map, and my eyes have the ability to read and navigate through your soul.”

  Okay, cool yet confusing, and also unnerving that he could see so much of me. It was almost like standing in front of him naked. My fascination with the Ngah only intensified, and if I had the time, I would have picked his brain for hours.

  But time wasn’t something I had.

  “Do you know what’s in the vial she gave me?” I inquired.

  His gaze shifted to the far corner of my cell, staring through the shadows to the floor. I had no doubt that he could see the potion with clarity as if it were as bright as day here instead of bathed in night. “A soul-altering serum.”

  “What?” Shock registered through me. Alter my soul? The fuck? “Alter my soul how?” I asked.

  He tapped his nails meaninglessly together. “A number of ways, depending on the crafter's intent.”

  I didn’t for one second believe the queen was only offering a way to give me my life back before I was abducted to Hell. What would she gain? “If I drink the contents, could it sever the link between my mate and me?”

  “Sever?” The Ngah shook his head, his long, silvery hair falling around his angled face. “No. A bond such as yours is made up of three components. She would have to destroy each link, assuming all three have been forged.”

  Dammit.

  Because of my stubbornness and my emotional damage, Ashor and I had only fortified two of the three bonds. The idea of his mother being able to eradicate even one of those connections created a stampede of panic like I’d never felt before.

  “And assuming she had the ability to snap such a strong power. It is not easy to do,” he added, seeing my expression change. “Nor is it a painless process to live through. The agony is worse than death.”

  The change in his voice almost made me wonder if he had been through it himself, or something similar. “She would love to separate me from her son. I think she wants to cause him such agony to control him, to bring out that vengeful and merciless part of him.”

  “You threaten everything she has built. The queen has bided her time for so long. Her desire for power has always been there under the surface, but no one has looked deep enough to see until it was too late.”

  “Except for you.”

  He gave a sad nod.

  The expression on his not quite humanlike face pulled on my heartstrings. It was difficult for me to see him as anything but a prisoner. I tried to imagine this thin man as dangerous and fearful. Obviously, Kali saw something in him that she desired, enough for her to steal his DNA. I didn’t want to know the details, whether the queen had forced him or if he had been infatuated by her, blinded by her beauty so that he didn’t see her true intent until it was too late. It didn’t matter. Their past would not change my future.

  “Will you help me?” I asked. From what I’d just learned about him, I kn
ew he could see the desperation not just in my face but in my soul.

  The tapping of his nails against each other ceased, silence descending over the prison. “Fight a war that is not mine? Fight for a world that has kept me prisoner?”

  “Yes. Do you not wish to go home? Do you not wish revenge on the one who has chained you, used you, tortured you, taken from you?” And so much more.

  His back pressed into the wall, eyes staring into the dark recesses of his cell, a thoughtful expression on his unusual flat face, none of his features contoured like mine. “It has been so long since I walked in any world. My abilities have diminished over time.”

  “She’s kept you this long for a reason. I don't know what you’re capable of, but I do know the queen fears you.” And as far as I knew, she feared no one and nothing. But I’d seen it. Just for a flicker of a second. What poetic justice would it be if the being she’d trapped and abused would also be the one who ended her?

  “Perhaps,” he considered, but I didn’t feel like I was making much headway in recruiting him.

  I asked again, “Will you fight alongside me?”

  “I can see that you have a plan, I just can’t see if you will be successful. Too many variables that could change the outcome,” he said quietly.

  “At least that isn’t a definite failure. I’ll take my chances. Come with me. I will free you.”

  “And what will I do after?”

  “Go home,” I suggested.

  “I don’t even know if I have a home to go home to.”

  “None of us will if I don’t stop her.”

  The Ngah smiled as another beat of silence passed between us. “I will consider aiding you… for a price.”

  The balloon of hope that had begun to rise within me quickly deflated. Were there any beings in the underworld who didn’t require a bargain? “What did you have in mind?” I heard myself asking, even as I cringed inside. Contracts were tricky. Usually, a hidden agenda was tucked somewhere in the deal, but my choices were extremely limited.

  “When the war is over, regardless if you win or lose, you kill me.”

  I gasped, not expecting him to wish for his own death, but then again, I wasn’t entirely surprised. After the life he had lived, perhaps death was the only way for him to be free.

  16

  Since I’d woken up in the dungeon, I hadn’t been able to hear Ashor’s voice. The bond between us was still within me, but it was as if the signal was weaker, like the distance between us was too great—worlds apart.

  But we weren’t.

  It had to be something with the makeup of this place and the bars that subdued magic. Yet it didn’t stop me from trying. I didn’t know what else to do in the moments of silence when I was alone with my thoughts. I had to occupy my mind with something other than this dreary, desolate cell. How else could I keep the dark depression from crawling in?

  Ashor might be pissed at me, and rightly so, but I had to believe he wouldn’t intentionally ignore me. He would come, especially now that his mother had sent out a random signal through my mind, which gave me mixed feelings. Yes, I longed to see his face, but I wanted him alive and out from under her thumb more. If he came here, she would only trap him, and the only trapping being done in this court would be by me.

  Somehow.

  Nothing was going according to plan. Nothing. And I didn’t know what I was even fighting for anymore. Ashor. Myself. My family. The world.

  Where did I begin? Where did it end?

  Without the threads that tied me to Ashor, I was lost. I felt nothing. Cared about nothing. Not even getting out of this stupid cell. What was the point without him? How would he find me? If had already scoured the Court of Darkness, where would he go next? It might be days, weeks, or months until he came back after searching every inch of the underworld. And in the meantime, could I hold out that long being her prisoner, her son’s torture toy?

  Or worse?

  And when I wasn’t thinking about Ashor, the dream I had of him and the knights plagued me. Had he really failed? Had the vision come from our connection? If so, my being here was more important than ever. I had to kill the queen before she killed my mate.

  But I was in no state to kill anyone, not a measly lower demon, and surely not a demon queen.

  Chewing on my nails, I went over the details in my head. Tricking a queen would be no easy feat. And killing her…

  I knew Ashor. Knew the risks. Knew everything I would be giving up. And still, I wanted to go through with it. One soul to save millions, to save those I loved didn’t seem like that high of a price.

  As the hours passed, my mind slipped. The images I composed of killing the queen became more hysterical, and I along with them. My hunger and thirst grew as a new threat appeared. Delirium.

  I rocked back and forth, huddled in the corner, staring at the shadows cast by the torches, and watching them take shape. Creatures of the mist. Beasts of the night. Lost souls. Screaming ghosts. Hissing flames of Inferno. Sobbing waters of Misery.

  Confused. Alone. Disoriented. A mess.

  I thought I was going mad.

  And then…

  “Luv?”

  Like I’d been slapped across the face, my head snapped up, my heart jerking in my chest at a gust of coolness that felt just like a midsummer night, calming the heat from the day. Wisps of his scent curled in my nostrils, taunting me with something I so desperately wanted but was out of my reach.

  “Ashor?” I whispered, the cell in front of me going in and out of focus. Was I hearing things? My mind conjuring his voice?

  Dizziness twirled through my head, and I knew I was close to passing out, not from Soren’s magic but because my body was giving up. Lying down on the ground, I pressed my cheek to the floor, my hand out in front of me.

  I waited for the voice as I closed my eyes, willing him to talk to me, but like my body, my will was also losing steam.

  “Don’t give up,” the voice came again.

  “Never,” I mouthed.

  “Stay with me, Lexi,” he murmured. “Stay with me.”

  “I want to.”

  “I need you to. How else am I going to thrash you for leaving?” he retorted sternly, doing a fantastic job of disguising his worry, but with me, it wasn’t that simple. Even though I was delirious, I managed to pick up the teeniest fracture in his voice.

  Still sprawled out on the ground, unconsciousness creeping closer, I smiled. If anyone had seen me, they would have thought I was deranged, but Ashor threatening to thrash me was such a princely thing to say. It had to be him, didn’t it?

  “I had to leave,” I justified. “For you.”

  “Then for me, you need to live. I can’t do this without you. Do you understand? I’m coming.”

  My fingers flexed around something small. I didn’t think about it. I didn’t think at all because I drifted into a feverish slumber.

  I forced my eyes open, and there were two things I noticed simultaneously. One, a tray of food had been brought to my cell and sat by the door, steam rising from it. If it was still hot, then it hadn’t arrived long ago. And two, the vial the queen gave me was clutched in my hand.

  Had I reached for it while I slept?

  A shiver rolled through me thanks to the fever still assaulting my body. Even though I was part demon, my organs, bones, and muscles had limitations, and the last few days or weeks had been hell on me. The torture, the lack of food and sleep, and don’t get me started on the mental anguish. Of course, at some point, I would snap.

  And I was just there, teetering.

  “Eat,” a low voice demanded, and no matter how much my ears wanted that voice to belong to Ashor, it didn’t.

  The Ngah didn’t show his face but kept to the back of his cell. I could just make out his form, eyes glowing in the dark. “You need it, or you’ll end up rotting away in here like the rest of us,” he insisted, reminding me of my dad.

  God, it had been too long since I had thought of or seen my f
ather. Nothing like being on the brink of destruction to clarify what was important. Family would always be number one for me. They needed me. And that knowledge gave me strength.

  I crawled to the tray, lured by the smell and my determination. Releasing the vial, I picked up the hunk of bread, starting with something mild. As hungry as I was, I needed to make sure my stomach could handle solids after going without for so long.

  But once I had a taste, all sensibility went out the window, and I became ravenous. Shoving spoonfuls of beef smothered in gravy onto a pile of something like potatoes into my mouth, I ate greedily, alternating bites of meat and bread, barely swallowing before I took another spoonful.

  “Not so fast. You’ll make yourself sick,” the Ngah scolded.

  He was right, and I should have thought about the food being contaminated or poisonous before shoveling it into my mouth. I’d been so blind with hunger, I’d abandoned my usual caution. I swallowed what was in my mouth, color staining my cheeks at my behavior. Just who had I become? This wasn’t me. I was graceful and classy, not ill-mannered and boorish.

  “How long was I out for?” I asked, wiping the side of my mouth as I tried to regain a semblance of composure, not an easy feat when I hadn’t bathed in forever, my hair looked like something a bird could lay an egg in, and my clothes weren’t even recognizable as clothes.

  The bottom of a shoe scuffed over the floor as he shifted his leg. “It’s hard to judge, but more than twelve hours.”

  “Shit,” I muttered, taking a sip of water, careful not to guzzle the entire glass. The dungeon was particularly quiet, not that it tended to be a loud place. “Did you eat? I won’t be able to finish this,” I offered.

  “I don’t have the same substance requirements as you. I’m fine. You don’t need to worry,” he replied.

  Was I curious what fueled his body? Yes. But I wasn’t going to ask because I was afraid the answer would be something my stomach couldn’t handle. I needed to keep my food down, not send it back up.