Dark Promise (Underworld)

11



Cassandra struggled to open her eyes. Sunlight crept through the curtains and sprayed across her face. Dizziness gripped her and she moved her hand underneath the covers to find a warm, hard body. “Eric, where are you?”

She lifted herself up off the bed, hoping to find him in his room. Wait a minute. Where was the purple canopy? She sat up, the quilt falling to her waist. Cold air rushed over her and she shivered.

Rather than plum, warm, brown walls surrounded her. Red and gold drapes replaced plums ones that had hung down over a patio door. The spacious room had shrunk and a suitcase lay open on a luggage rack. Naked, she ran to the window. Snow dusted pine trees and covered the cars parked in a small driveway. Shit, she was back at the Inn, but how?

She fell to her knees and bit back a sob. He'd sent her back. Did she mean so little to him? She wiped angry tears away and furiously braided her hair. A slow memory pierced the fog in her mind. The king had dismissed the prophecy, but had he felt a shift when they consummated? What would he do to Eric? Why hadn’t Eric allowed her to touch the Golden Tree?

“Eric,” she whispered. “Eric, where are you?”

Tires crunched over snow outside. A door shut in the hallway. Had Eric found her? Footsteps trudged closer to her room. She waited, ready to run into his arms when he opened the door. But Eric didn't open the door. He didn't call her name. He didn't appear. She was alone.

Not for long. She wouldn't stay here. She'd get back to Eric.

Within minutes, she’d showered, dressed and combed her fingers through her wet hair.

She slapped her palm on her forehead. “God, I'm such an idiot!” She cleared her throat and commanded, “Wraith, Wraith, come forth.”

She waited for the cold to grip her and the hair to stand up on the back of her neck, but instead the heater turned on and warmth spread over her as the air rushed out of the vent.

“I’m the soul mate of Eric, Prince of the Dragon Demons, I demand the Wraith appear.”

Once again, warm air gripped her. Eric made it seem so easy when he called forth the Wraith, but then, again, he was a demon. She was a human.

For the rest of the day, she paced in her room, called forth the Wraith and was met with disappointment. Her stomach growled, but she refused to eat.

Outside the window, snowflakes swirled in the air and landed on the path to Walter Byron Park. She brushed rough on the outside of her ring. Engravings were itched on the once smooth surface. She removed her ring and held it under a lamp. Aspen leaves had been sketched onto the outside of the ring. How? Did this happen when she mated with Eric?

Walter Byron Park formed in her mind. It had always played a special place in her heart and chased all of her worries away. Somehow the place held power for her and she did possess a magical ring.

Her hand shaking, she put the ring back on her finger. She put on her suede boots and seized her coat. Running for the door, she hoped her plan worked.

She burst through the front door and ran as fast as she could down crusted and icy Fifth Avenue. Her foot slid and her knee twisted. She fell, rolled onto her back and clutched her knee. Nausea seized her. She blinked back tears. Ignoring the throbbing pain, she struggled to stand and limped toward Walter Byron Park.

Her leg collapsed and she fell, slamming onto ice. “Mother Mary!”

She refused to give up, refused to let Eric die, refused to renounce her quest.

Snow and ice burned her bare hands. Her arms shook as she pushed to her feet. She shuffled toward a bench facing the frozen river. She slumped on the cold bare wood and caught her breath.


Eric, remember, Eric. “Wraith.” She rubbed her throbbing knee. “Come forth.”

Wind whipped her hair around her face. She spat out hair. “Wraith,” she demanded. “I’m the soul mate of Eric Wyvern, the last Prince of the Dragon Demons. I command you to appear before me. I am here to fulfill the prophecy. You have seen it. Come forth.”

Snow blew into a white whirlwind, stinging her wet face. Frosted aspen and snow covered pine trees bent across the river. Swings swayed, banging into metal poles. Black mist slowly spun in front of her, churning faster and faster. More snow swirled into the air. Chills ran down her back and she shivered.

The mist turned solid and in the middle, an outline formed of a tall wispy woman. Cassandra's heart pounded and she gripped the edge of the bench. Trembling, she shoved her hands into her coat pocket.

The wind ceased. The swings stopped banging. The trees stopped swaying, their branches dropping snow onto the ground. The familiar black cloaked figure stood before her, and glowered at her. The hate in her red eyes stole Cassandra’s breath and she pressed her back against the cold bench.

“No human has ever called me,” the Wraith whispered. “You’ve failed, condemning us all.”

“No, I didn’t. Eric, he-he-he sent me-me away.” Damn stuttering, not now.

The Wraith pointed her finger. “It’s too late.”

The air turned, colder, icier. Cassandra’s teeth chattered and she wrapped her arms tight around her waist. “He’s in danger. You must take me to him.”

“Yes, they have him.”

Cassandra gulped. “Who?”

“Gryffin the Torturer.”

Cassandra rubbed her arms and shuddered. “Torturer?”

“Yes, before the Darkness, Gryffin was deranged. He likes to inflict pain and humiliation on his victims, but now he’s taken it to an Olympian level and delves into every depraved impulse.”

“You must take me to Eric.”

The Wraith took a step closer. “Why?”

“Because I love him.” He was arrogant, domineering and stubborn, but she loved him. He completed her.

Her ring glowed white, tingles rushed over her, spreading warmth through her veins, moving from her toes to her veins. Cassandra shook uncontrollably, and her teeth chattered. Brilliant light shone on her face, melting the iciness within her. The throbbing subsided. The snow and ice on the bench thawed and dripped into a pool of water.

Perspiration dripped down her back and her sweater clung to her. “What?” Cassandra rubbed her temples. “What happened?” Her body still reeled from frozen to sweltering.

“The binding is completed. You’re ready.” The Wraith’s voice no longer sounded like a hissing wind. In a flowing black gown, a beautiful, dark haired woman with silver eyes gazed at her. Ebony hair curled down to the middle of her back. She gave Cassandra a charming smile with full red lips.

“Oh, my God,” Cassandra stammered.

“You see me as the Dragon Demons used to see me.”

“I—I…”

“Eric has never seen this side of me.” Sadness glinted in her eyes. “The darkness began with me, but it wasn’t able to turn my nature dark, just my appearance.”

Cassandra frowned. “It’s because I mated with Eric that your true looks were revealed?”

“Actually, it was your love for him.” The Wraith held out her hand. On her finger, a silver ring with a huge ruby glittered. “They are made from the same dragon fire,” she said.

“Nothing burns as hot as dragon fire and the silver forged contains pure white magic.”

Great. All this time, she’d been wearing ring that could burst into flames and burn her finger.

Wraith smiled as if she guessed what Cassandra thought.

Cassandra’s cheeks heated at her own foolishness.

“It is the White Dragon Ring of Fire,” the Wraith said. “Mine is the Red Dragon Ring of Fire. Yours has the power to return Goodness to the Underworld, but only after you touch the Golden Tree.”

Anxious to change the subject and not think about her destiny. Everyone had faith in her, but knowing your destiny and actually fulfilling it or two different things. Cassandra said, “Eric sent me back to protect me, didn’t he?”

“Yes,” the Wraith nodded.

“Why?”

The Wraith raised her eyebrow. “Isn’t it obvious? He loves you. You’re his dragon mate.”

Dread pooled into Cassandra’s stomach and she wrung her hands. “They’re going to kill Eric, aren’t they?”

“Death would be a welcome alternative to what is in store for him.”

Cassandra wasn’t a fool. She was scared shitless but Eric needed her. “Please, take me back. Let me fulfill my destiny.”

“As you wish, my child.” Her face turned solemn. “You must be strong, Cassandra. The only way for you to save him is to touch the Golden Tree and breathe life into its dying soul. It is heavily guarded. The king will do anything to keep you from touching it, including kill you. Only one more leaf remains and it will fall tonight by the setting of the Underworld’s two suns.”

Arctic chills clenched Cassandra and she wanted to run back to the inn and hide under the cover. “I understand.”

“If you need me, call me, Cassandra,” the Wraith promised. She waved.

The ground underneath Cassandra rumbled and cracked. A crevice widened. Before Cassandra could protest, she and the bench fell into the rift. She screamed.

Down, down, down, she plummeted like a pebble thrown into a bottomless black well. Frosty wind roared around her and her hair whipped her face. Brittle cold nipped her bones. She waved her arms and kicked her legs, but only kicked air.

The darkness lightened and a cobalt sky emerged. She fell through white fluffy clouds, hurtling toward the ground. Below, Castle Basilisk’s towers loomed and cast long dark shadows onto the town. Cassandra gritted her to teeth to keep from screaming. She closed her eyes, threw her arms over her face and prepared to be smashed into the ground.

She stretched out her arms and pushed out her palms. Castle Basilisk’s courtyard was coming up on her fast and she gritted her teeth, waiting for the jarring pain and bones broken, but her falling slowed and she plopped onto a shady corner of the courtyard. Instead of green lawn, she landed in a cluster of drooping red and yellow tulips. She spat out dirt and a yellow petal. Their long stems curled and brown, some tulips lacked petals and were just naked stems.

She dragged herself to her feet. Three guards, the size of professional wrestlers, stood in front of the tree, staring straight ahead. In the middle of the courtyard, Eric swayed naked between two posts, his wrists and ankles bound.

She stifled a cry.

Blood trickled down his chest.

She fought the urge to run toward him and free him.

A thin, lanky man ran his fingers down Eric’s back, and lust reflected in his red eyes. Gryffin?

A small body curled up near Eric’s feet. Bruises and welts covered his back. Toby lifted his head, brown hair hanging in his face.

“Tell me where she is prince,” Gryffin demanded. He twisted Eric’s balls.

Eric threw his head back. “No!”

His body trembled. He protected her, enduring torture for her.

Cassandra sobbed and took a step.

“No, Cassandra,” the Wraith warned. “You will die. Get to the tree.”

Cassandra jerked around, but she was alone. Where was the Wraith?

The horrible man released his balls and Eric stopped screaming. Pain was etched deep into Eric’s eyes.


Going against her every fiber, Cassandra wiped her tears away, forced herself to run to the wall. Hugging the wall, she edged closer to the tree. Bright, open lawn stretched between her hiding place and the tree. She'd be exposed.

Her heart quickened and she tried to call on her reserve of bravery to make the long run, but her shaking legs refused to move.

Focused on Gryffin and Eric, the guards moved away from the tree. The bastard slapped Eric across the face and kicked Toby, eliciting a groan.

“Drake, stop.” Eric’s voice sounded parched, harsh.

Cassandra bit her lip. She wanted to help Eric and Toby, but what if the Wraith was wrong?

A loud smack brought her back to Eric. His lip bled. His gaze met hers. Eyes widened, his face paled.

“Guards!” From the shade, a blonde woman pointed at her. “Seize the bitch.”