Seduced by Darkness (The Seduced Saga)(18)

All the tree creatures had been ripped apart, shredded and no longer moving. With Beleth by my side, we flanked the Beast, coordinating our attack instinctually, as if we'd done this before. As if we'd done this forever.

For once, the Beast hesitated, a look of panic in its eyes. It howled a different kind of howl, sharper and higher pitched than before, and mist gathered around it, obscuring it from view as it ran into the night, disappearing.

I leapt into the sky, gaining a vantage point over the now-fading mist, flying high enough to spot the Beast. He stood on the hill, bent over—

Rage.

Power.

Speed.

I pushed harder than I ever had before.

Flying faster than I knew I could, my wings nearly ripping my back apart.

Landing hard, I smashed into the Beast, plunging my sword into its back as we both rolled on the ground.

I righted myself and reached for my sword, only to see the Beast running away, sword stuck in its back. I moved to follow when a sound stopped me.

Gasping.

Dying.

I turned, all the air rushing out of my lungs as I collapsed to my knees next to Sam, who lay dying where the Beast had just been, her body covered in bites.

The ground around her soaking up her tainted blood.





EIGHTEEN





Fury In Your Words





DRAKE





I understand a fury in your words But not your words.

— William Shakespeare, Othello




BLOOD.

So much blood.

And in a moment of total and complete self-hate, I craved that blood, the blood that covered my wife, the mother of my child. The life blood that could mean her death.

But I didn't have time for that descent into my own personal hell, because I could sense her heartbeat, quivering but there. I leaned down to her and could see her chest rising, slow and shallow, hitching and stopping, but always starting again.

Beleth landed by me, his own body covered in scratches and wounds that were quickly healing. Did he crave my wife's blood, as I did? The thought made me want to tear his heart out.

And mine.

"You need to help her. We have to save her, like you saved me." My voice stuck in my throat. "She's dying."

Beleth, who seldom showed any emotion on his face, looked pained. Sad even. Regretful. "We can't."

"What do you mean? You said some are turned rather than born this way. The Court of Nightfall, right? So we do that."

Beleth shook his head. "That is not what I mean. The Emzara would never approve Sam. They tolerated your transformation because you are of Nephilim blood and my son, but this, they won't allow it. The Twilight Queen guards her position fiercely, as do all who preceded her. Creating new Nephilim is a process that must be approved by her, as she must weigh the benefit with the risk. If Nephilim were allowed to change others at will, a rival could form a Nephilim order and overthrow the Twilight Court, causing political chaos that would never stabilize. So she, like all past Reigning Monarchs, is unrelenting with the punishments of those who break this sacred law."

"I couldn't give a shit about Nephilim politics right now." Sam's body convulsed in my arms, and I nearly died right there. "I won't let her die, Beleth."

"The Emzara will come for you. You will both have to pay. Your baby, Ana, will pay. It will destroy your family."

I bit my own wrist and held it over Sam's mouth. Beleth made no move to stop me.

"If she dies, my family is already destroyed."





NINETEEN





She Chose Me





THE TWILIGHT QUEEN





For she had eyes and chose me.

— William Shakespeare, Othello




IN VENICE, ITALY, beneath the majesty of Saint Mark's Basilica, stood a door to another world. Carved by magic from gold and ebony, it depicted creatures of splendor with wings made of light fighting the demons of hell.

Through the door, the Throne Room of the Twilight Court overwhelmed most who entered. The first floor stretched long and wide, covered in gold and black carpet, lined with suits of armor on either side. The second and third floors held balconies from which you could view the hall. Members of the Tribunal used it while making judgment, and they sat there now, the Lord of Nightfall and Lord of Sunrise, each wearing the colors of their Order. Those pleading, or on trial, used the first floor and seemed puny amidst the vast hall.

At the far side, a circle engraved with glyphs and cycles of the moon marked the carpet's end and the place where the High Queen had ascended her Throne, which hung suspended by magic above it all. No one could reach the Twilight Throne without wings to fly them. It had been carved of white and black diamond fused together with a base like a giant rock of obsidian and gold. It shimmered with white heat, a warning to those who try to sit in the seat of power. If any Nephilim other than the rightfully-elected Twilight Ruler tried to breach the protection of the Throne, their wings would burn off. Some say, they never grew back.

Only the ruler of all Nephilim could sit in the Throne.

Queen Seraphina sat there now, her black hair inlaid with golden vines to match her black velvet gown stitched in gold. She was of the Court of Nightfall, and as such wore her Order's colors, tempered with the Sunrise gold and white to honor her place as ruler of them all.