Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 81261 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81261 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
While she has the strength of a hundred humans and can snap necks like no tomorrow, she comes off as willowy and delicate. Her clothing is always provocative but romantic. Today she’s wearing a flowing dress of ivory silk, and her angel-blond hair floats over her shoulders. If she had her original white wings she fell from Heaven with, no one would question she was an angel.
Skicru is lounging in a chair, talking to one of her brethren. Torak. He’s a Dark Fae but not an original fallen. He’s of noble blood, though, and has been a loyal member of Skicru’s family so long I can’t remember where he came from.
Their heads turn my way when I enter and they stand in deference, but I wave them down. I can’t stand all that bowing and bobbing shit that Kymaris always insisted on.
I take a chair across the table. “Calix said you had something urgent to discuss.”
“There are rumblings,” Skicru says, her expression taut.
“Such as?” I drawl.
“Ariman.” She leans forward, crossing her arms on the table. “He’s not liking the rules you’re putting in place.”
“Oh, you mean my prohibition on the wanton killing of humans and daemons?” The sarcasm drips from me, but Skicru is not telling me anything I don’t know.
Ariman is an immortal human priest who harnessed stone magic in the First Dimension and came here a few thousand years ago. Next to me, he was one of Kymaris’s most trusted allies, responsible for enacting the changeling spell that our former queen used to tear the veil so her demons could wreak havoc in the real world.
Moreover, he was directly responsible for much of Zora’s pain as he oversaw the funneling of magic into her for twenty-eight long years while Kymaris stayed in stasis until she could be reborn in the First Dimension.
I can’t stand the fucker for that reason alone, but he’s a menace outside of that. Kymaris let him run rampant with his power and bloodlust, and I’ve been struggling to rein him in. He has followers—those who bemoan the loss of their evil ruler and would like to break free and ruin the First Dimension.
It would be a lot easier if Zora would just let me kill him outright, but she’s firmly against it, despite what he did to her.
“It’s better to make friends with him, Amell,” she had advised with a look on her face that said it really wasn’t advice but an edict. “His magic has been instrumental in restoring powers to many of the Dark Fae. You’ll make enemies if you disturb that resource.”
I didn’t make friends with him, but I allowed him to live.
“He’s been putting out feelers to the nobles about a potential coup,” Torak says. “It’s always very veiled and subtle, but make no mistake, he’s got a plan.”
“And do you have interest?” I ask, my eyes lasering onto Skicru. She leads her people from the city of Kasdeya and her forces are immense.
“Would I be here talking to you if I did?” she retorts.
I take a second to ponder but ultimately shake my head. I trust her. “No, you wouldn’t. What’s his angle?”
Torak scoffs. “He wants to be king, but he’s not phrasing it in that way. He’s going old-school Roman republic, saying there should be a governing senate, but that only means he’s promising positions of power to those who help him rise.”
I rub my hand over the back of my neck. I hate this shit. If I didn’t have the burden of the Underworld on my shoulders, I’d be living in Vyronas with Thalia and her family. I’d abdicate in a heartbeat if Zora would let me, but she trusts no one else to render judgment and keep the Underworld secure.
And it’s not just about keeping those down here safe, but keeping the rest of the universe safe from my subjects. We’ve had millennia to grow even more evil than the original rebels cast from Heaven. Stone magic, along with evolution, has bred some seriously deranged fae who would love nothing more than to carry out Kymaris’s wish to overrun the First Dimension.
Pushing up from my chair, I incline my head at Skicru and Torak. “Thank you for coming to me with this. I think I’ll call a full council meeting and address this head-on as a group. Are there others who are interested in what Ariman is selling?”
Skicru and Torak stand, but it’s Skicru who answers. “Jago. He thinks the idea has merit.”
“Shit,” I mutter, scraping my hand over my scalp. Jago is influential and hot-tempered. He’s a ravager, evolved to lust after mayhem and destruction. But he can be reasoned with, if you catch him in the right mood. “I’ll get Calix to set up a meeting. You’re more than welcome to join me for dinner and stay the night if you wish.”