Page 2 of Mate Me

“Abyssian and Pollux were not part of this,” I said, knowing none of it would change their minds. “This is between you and me, Pious.”

“You chose your allies, Caius, and poorly, might I add.”

“Fuck you,” Pol spat.

“Fearless, aren’t you?” Pious said, angered by Pollux’s outburst. “Perhaps, instead, they chose poorly when they sought you as a leader, Caius. Nevertheless, they can suffer with you.”

When Ru’than and D’axi moved to apprehend Pollux, the shadow shifter snapped, “No need. I will do it myself.”

They stepped back letting him get to his feet. Pol regarded me and dropped one hand to my shoulder, squeezing it once before he stepped into the portal. I was lucky to have him. To have his loyalty and his friendship. Too bad he couldn’t say the same about me. My actions damned him. Some friend I was.

“You can’t hold my soul forever Pious,” I ground out. “The power will destroy you, and when it does, my soul will return.”

Pious laughed. “I don’t need to hold it. A guardian can do that for me.” His cruel smile caused Abraxia to choke on sobs, and I realized what she was there for. We were both being sentenced. Still, I couldn’t bear to look at her.

An orb of pulsing white light appeared above his palm, and my betrayer paled as she fervently shook her head. The eleven gathered, muttering the words that would seal our fates, then he slammed the orb into her chest. She fell forward, screaming, hunched over with her face pressed into the dirt. The cloth of her dress burned, splitting right up the middle, and falling to the sides. Black runes carved themselves into her skin, up her back and onto her shoulder.

As the runes seared into place, I read them, falling deeper into hopelessness.

An unbreakable ward.

Passed on, from guardian to guardian.

For eternity.

Abraxia whimpered and Pious kicked her side, causing her to fall over.

Turning his smug face back to me, he raised his voice, giving his final declaration. “From henceforth you will be nameless. You will never be loved or revered—only feared. The world will come to forget Caius the Primordial ever existed, and the only name known to future generations will be when they pass down the tales of the Soulless One. Take your place where you belong, brother. Among the monsters.”

That word snapped something inside of me and I stood up, pointedly glaring at Pious as I stepped toward him. “You are no brother of mine.” Looking at the other ten, I saw Ru’than’s soulful eyes filled with pain, but he still didn’t speak up. I shook my head in disgust. “Noneof you are.”

I turned my back on them. This wasn’t the future I wanted. I wasn’t even sure I would survive being separated from the earth and the light, but I would walk into Hell on my own two feet.

They wanted to call me a King of Monsters?

Fine.

Then that is what I would become.

Chapter1

Reagan

The worst part about digging up a grave wasn't actually the smell; it was the unknown. The obvious expectation is that we’d find a body, of course, but it wasn’t that cut and dry. For millennia other cultures had protected the entombed with a series of curses, trip wires, and other various booby traps. Add in the possibility that you might find a spelled corpse or a really pissed off vampire, and it equaled a fairly hazardous job.

I’d say I was used to it by now, but that was hardly the case.

Grave robbing was our family business. It wasn't as bad as it sounded. We weren't digging up bodies at random, or disturbing ancient burial grounds. Rubies, pottery, coins, pocket watches: none of that mattered. Items like that were no longer valued as currency in this world. What we were paid to acquire was either sentimental or enchanted. Usually the latter.

We were merely contractors . . . who dug up the dead.

Okay, maybe it was as bad as it sounded, but we did what we needed to do for survival. We lived in an unconventional world, which meant we had unconventional job prospects.

That was why we were spending our night digging a hole in a cemetery across the river from our home in The Crossroads.

The autumn air was crisp, laced with the scent of the rain we’d likely get sometime overnight. For now, only a few clouds floated in the dark sky. A full moon illuminated the graveyard, giving us so much light we didn’t even need magic or lanterns.

I didn’t want to take this as a rush job. Our buyer was eager, and that meant we needed to work quickly. I had a standard rule that I didn’t mingle with the dead on a full moon, but when work had been slow, and our client was willing to pay handsomely, it was hard to say no.

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