Page 142 of Dark Fate

As our hearts' frenzied beating gradually slows,Rhylandleans in, his lips brushing against my temple in a tender, almost reverent kiss. This simple, sweet, and loving gesture starkly contrasts the primal intensity of our recent coupling, sending a fresh wave of warmth and affection coursing through my veins.

Pulling back slightly,Rhylandrests his forehead against mine, the intimate contact serving as a wordless affirmation of our unbreakable bond. As our breaths mingle and our skin remains flushed with the evidence of our shared passion, I feel a profound sense of connection, of two souls perfectly in tune with one another.

Gazing into his eyes, I see a reflection of my own emotions—the love, the devotion, the unwavering commitment that binds us together.

"Three down, and I'm fucking far from being finished with you,Angel."

Well, shit! This man is going to be the death of me. Death by orgasms—it's a great way to go.

Danica

66

The underground cell greets us with a chilling embrace, the air thick and cloying like a ghostly veil. It's a stifling space, walls weeping with the earth's tears, moss and lichen the only adornment on the cold stone surfaces. The faint drip-drip-drip of water echoes a melancholic metronome in the dimly lit chamber.

Shadows dance along the edges, cast by the feeble light filtering in through the cracks above, lending an eerie, forsaken atmosphere to the space.

Post-sex marathon, it's the next morning, and every little ache hums a sensual anthem courtesy ofRhyland's thoroughness—five blissful orgasms later, I'm sporting the kind of 'loved' soreness you wear with a smirk. My body is a tapestry of bruises and love bites, a testament to being thoroughly and utterly cherished.

Armored back in my skin-tight leathers, hair braided and fortified by a warrior's breakfast, I joinRhylandon a mission below ground—to the cell that cages his turncoat brother,Adrian. With each step into the depths, my heart swims in a storm of emotions.Adrian's deception has cut to the bone, risking everything sacred. Now, it's time for him to spill his secrets.

Adrian's cell sits at the heart of this heavy silence, a confinement of despair where comfort and warmth are strangers. There, cowering in shadow and regret, he’s the picture of defeat.Adrian’s eyes catch the dim light, a twinkle of 'I fucked up' in the depths of his midnight gaze as it meets ours. I mentally zip up my sassiest armor, braced to slice through the thick tangle of his treachery with razor-sharp wit.

The dude's clearly seen better days—when was the last time he fed? His face is sunken and ashen, like he'd been moonlighting as a ghost in a haunted house gig. The hair that once proudly screamed 'sorcerer-shampoo-commercial' now whispers 'dungeon life.' It's time to decode the enigma wrapped in a riddle, smothered in betrayer sauce that is our dearAdrian.

"Why?" I serve the single syllable into the chill of the cell, letting it ping against the stone like a siren call for truth. "Why pull a Judas on us after everything?"

Adrian's hands dance a nervous ballet, weaving a tapestry of second thoughts in his lap. After what feels like an eon, he throws his voice into the void, and it lands like a lead balloon. "I had no choice. Azrael promised me the one thing I desire most—my family's souls."

Surprise rockets my eyebrows skyward—I didn't anticipate that curveball. I instinctively retreat a step asRhylandpuffs up beside me, a scowl etched on his face so intense it could pierce metal. "Moretemishas your family? How can you be sure—what evidence do you have?"

"I just know,"Adriansnaps. "Azrael claimedMoretemisholds their souls captive, damned for eternity. He said if I helped him capture you,Moretemiswould free them." His voice cracks. "I had to try..."

A twinge of something slices through my irritation—a wave of empathy? Would I have played the game differently if I were in his no-good-traitor shoes? After all, the stakes are family souls. And after whatSeraphinajust shared with me—my mother is in the same boat.

"Spill it," I demand, my patience with riddles as thin as tissue paper.Adrian's got the exclusive scoop on Moldy-Wart, and it's high time he broadcast the full saga, minus the cryptic bullshit.

"Moretemis, he's the demon ruler of the Shadow Realm—the Underworld—and holds my wife and children captive in the Abyss, among thousands of others,"Adriansays, meeting my gaze. "Centuries of torment while I'm powerless to save them."

This isn't new.Moretemishas been aggressively amassing souls, almost as if he's trying to build up a vast collection, like a twisted Pokémon card collector. But now,Adrianis painting an even more ominous picture, making it sound likeMoretemisis angling to take on a role akin to the Greek god Hades—the ruler of the underworld who lords over the souls of the dead.

The burning question claws its way up my throat, demanding an answer. I must know ifAdrianis in on Azrael's dirty little secret. What would it say about him if he knew all along?

"Did you know?" I demand, my voice razor-sharp. "Azrael killed my mother?"

Rhylandgoes rigid beside me, his fury radiating off him in palpable waves. He doesn't know yet—the truth I've discovered.

"What?" he snarls, a guttural sound that speaks volumes.

Adrian's head droops, shame pouring off him in tangible waves. I can feel the sting of tears pricking at my eyes, but I staunchly refuse to let them fall.

"Azrael filled me in only after we knew for sure you were the foretold one. I swear," he confesses, his voice heavy with regret.

I'm at a loss for words, unsure how to process or respond to this revelation: Adrian's betrayal and the pain it brings slice through me like a serrated blade.

"Did you also know that he took my mother's soul, and now it's inMoretemis's filthy hands?" I manage to choke out, my voice quavering.

Rhylandis at my side instantly, his hands cupping my face, compelling me to meet his gaze. "Are you certain about this? Where'd you get this intel?"

---