A Clash of Storms (A Shade of Vampire #50)(30)

So I did. One night, I snuck into the Grand Temple library and rummaged through the forbidden section. I’d heard rumors about some powerful magic there. The others had said it was easy to learn, but dangerous, even deadly. I was tired of my insufficiency.

My inadequacy.

I started fiddling with forbidden magic. Surprisingly enough, it helped unleash something in me I’d never thought existed. Strength. Determination. Hunger for more. I went through the other Druid levels like a hot knife cutting through a block of butter.

By the time I was ninety, I was eligible for a Master Druid position, having just earned my hundredth tattoo. Genevieve was still working through her ninetieth, and Almus was having trouble with his trials for his hundredth level. They were both good, but a bit too righteous for my taste. I’d gotten the hang of playing dirty and enjoyed reaping my rewards.

Once I was given the keys to Purgaris, I put on that dark green velvet suit and posed for my portrait. My heart ached for Genevieve, still. She’d just become a Master Druid herself, months after Almus. The years went by, and we all stayed close, but something changed, and I didn’t even notice it until it was too late.

After Almus took control of Persea and Genevieve celebrated her fifth year as Master Druid of Calliope, our meetings got shorter and shorter. They were both busy. They had little time left for their good friend Azazel.

It was then that I realized it.

Their good friend Azazel. Their friend.

They were together. I saw it clearly during one of the Master Council meetings in the hall between worlds. I’d been dealing with bureaucracy for years. Other Master Druids telling me what to do with my kingdom. My people. My laws. The arrogance!

I was taking Purgaris to a whole new level of greatness, but I still had to get their approval for everything, like I was a little Druid, unable to think for himself.

Like I was inadequate.

I’d felt the darkness growing inside me. The hate toward each of those Master Druids. Each more arrogant than the other. All considering themselves far superior to me, when, in fact, they were afraid. They’d given me the lousiest of Eritopia’s planets, a land full of thugs, thieves, and killers, thinking I would fail. I’d turned it around so fast, they didn’t even realize what had happened until it was too late. Purgaris held the most aggressive and downright lethal fleet. My armies were ruthless. Obedient. Disciplined. And it scared the hell out of the Master Council.

And yet, nothing stung more than realizing that Genevieve had given her heart to Almus. A heart I’d struggled to get for myself for so long. It blistered on the inside. It festered. It hurt.

When news of their wedding came, I finally collapsed.

Before I knew it, I was sneaking back into the Grand Temple on Persea, digging deeper through the forbidden manuscripts. It was there that I learned of Asherak. Now there was a Druid I admired. He’d been ruthless. He’d gathered power. He’d turned a planet around like I had. Whatever he’d wanted, he’d taken it. His prowess drilled holes in my stomach.

I felt inadequate.

Then I saw a sketch of his pendant. The jewel in which he’d hidden his soul, an item so powerful that no Druid alive had been able to destroy it. Rage came over me when I read that the Master Druids had been tasked with its safekeeping. They’d all kept me in the dark. They’d kept it a secret from me.

I realized then that I’d seen the pendant before. A golden snake twisted in a perfect eight-loop, quiet and beautiful, with glistening ruby eyes. That sniveling old fool Lorenz had been wearing it. It had been his turn to keep it safe.

But I wanted it. The darkness growing inside me yearned for it. I’d already been using some of Asherak’s spells, putting to use things I’d read in those forbidden manuscripts. The strength I’d infused my soldiers with. The poisons I’d used to remove the generals who had gone against me, supposedly upholding the Master Council’s wishes. The tricks I’d played to modify Purgaris’s constitution by bending the will of its people in my favor.

I was more than worthy of that pendant. The manuscripts had also spoken of fusing one’s soul with another. The final proprietary spell that Asherak had written down before sealing his soul inside the snake with ruby eyes, leaving behind a lifeless body before they could kill him. A smart Druid, that one.

I could be like that.

I could be stronger. Richer. More powerful than the entire Master Council put together. I could take Genevieve away from Almus and keep her to myself. What would he do against me, if I had the force of Asherak behind me?

Killing Lorenz was one of the easiest things I ever did. Putting the pendant around my neck and summoning the spirit of Asherak, on the other hand, was something else entirely. The moment I allowed his soul to enter my body, everything changed. My body changed, slowly, from the inside.

I’d already met Tamara by then. She’d been keeping my bed warm.

Almus and Genevieve had announced that they would soon have a son.

And Asherak’s voice continued whispering in my head, beckoning me to go further. To kill those who opposed me. To claim my throne. To gather more power. He showed me feats of dark magic I’d never thought possible. The pride that surged through me was addictive, lifting me closer to a permanent state of ecstasy with every day that went by.

Then I learned about Tamara’s lies. She was revealed as a Lamia, the filthiest of creatures I’d ever seen, and yet she’d convinced me that she was a Druid. She was with child when she fled. My child. It was then that I finally broke. It was her betrayal, her insolence and her lack of respect, her lying to me and taking me for an imbecile, that pushed me over the edge.