She nodded, looking up at him. In the next instant, his fingers tightened around her waist, pulling her closer. Dark tendrils of his magic thrummed over her skin, healing the slash in her leg, snaking up her thighs. It was as if he were doing it on purpose, running his fingers over the most intimate parts of her body.
His body’s heat warmed her, and his piercing gaze mesmerized her. He threaded his fingers into her hair, gently pulling back her head. Slowly, he grazed his teeth over her throat, one of his hands lazily stroking her back. Then he kissed her neck softly. Her back arched into him. Heat shot through her belly, and her heartbeat raced.
She slid her arms over his broad shoulders, pressing her body against him. She could feel his heart beating hard under his skin. Bael traced his powerful hands down her back, then slid them under her bottom, lifting her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist. His powerful arms encircled her, his fingertips stroking her thighs. Here, in Bael’s arms, she felt safe for the first time in weeks. Years, maybe.
Her pulse raced, and desire burned through her, lighting her on fire. Kiss me, already.
As if hearing her thoughts, he pressed his lips against hers. Slowly, his tongue parted her lips, brushing against hers. The kiss grew deeper, sensual. As a wave of pleasure rushed through her body, she lost all sense of time. He tasted of the sea.
The gong clanged again, pulling them out of their kiss, and Bael lowered her to the ground.
All around, the Brethren roared. Bael grabbed Ursula’s hand, and turned to address Hothgar. “I have won the duel, but I will not kill my betrothed. Return my wings.”
Hothgar’s eyes burned with cold fury. “Kill them, Abrax.”
Chapter 48
Panic tore its claws through Ursula’s mind.
In a blur of shadows, Abrax leapt onto the sand of the arena. Powerful shadow magic swirled around him—a vortex of night. A black tendril flew over the sand wrapping Bael’s chest, and in the next moment, he was on his knees, blood pouring from his wound.
Ursula could hear his ribs crack as Abrax’s magic slowly constricted, and she screamed.
Abrax stared at her, a smile curling his lips. “You killed one of my golems, harlot. And your boyfriend destroyed the other. I hope you don’t mind if I kill your man.”
She glanced around for her sword. How many demons could she fight at once?
Hothgar’s eyes were black with rage. “He claimed a hound as his wife. He has desecrated Nyxobas’s realm. The god of night could not protect him now.”
Ursula could see Bael’s muscles straining as he fought against the magical bonds, his face turning blue.
Rage, cold and ancient, burned through her veins. She gathered the last of the shadow magic in her body, concentrating on a spot just next to Abrax. She tore over the sand, slamming into Abrax’s side. Knocking him to the ground.
Instantly, his shadow magic lashed at her, wrapping around her chest. Like a giant serpent, it constricted, squeezing the air from her. She could feel her bones flex.
One of her ribs cracked, and she gasped at the pain. Why was Nyxobas never here to oversee his own laws?
Abrax chanted in Angelic, and his magic began to leach into her. She could feel its icy tendrils searching through her veins. The pain was exquisite, like she’d been injected with liquid nitrogen. The magic sucked the warmth from her, wrapping her heart in ice.
Filling with raw panic, she glanced at Bael. He lay on the sand across from her, his eyes open, but unfocused.
There is no loophole, he’d said. The gods always win.
Bael had been right.
Slowly, Abrax’s magic crept up her neck, stealing her breath. Horror slammed into her as shadow magic slipped into her skull, enveloping her in darkness.
She stood at the edge of the void. Its infinite vastness spread out before her. An endless chasm. A bottomless abyss. If she stepped off the edge, she would fall for eternity. Only the darkness will save you.
The lure of the void called to her, a dark lullaby. A siren song. My mother. My father. My home.
She took a final step off the edge, and she fell into the abyss. All around her, she sensed Nyxobas’s dark power, growing stronger.
“Hello, little one.” An ancient voice chilled her to the bone.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“Is it not obvious? I am Lord of the Realm of Shadows, the god of night, king of the void.”
A voice rang in her head, clear as a bell, a siren song. Kill the king. Kill the king.
“When I look at you, why do I hear the words, ‘kill the king?’”
“So you remember.”
“Remember what?”
Cold silence greeted her, and dread snaked up her spine. She didn’t want to be here. She needed to explain that this was all a mistake. “Abrax and Hothgar have betrayed you.” Even as she said the words, they felt meaningless to her—the squabbles of the living seemed inconsequential in the vastness of the void.
“Abrax is foolish and weak,” he said.
“He sent me here against my will.”
“Then leave.”
“How?” she asked.
“The same way you arrived.”
“Abrax cast a spell on me.”
“Fight back. That’s why I brought you here. To see if you are worthy.”