Page 24 of Prince of Ruin

Abaddon: The King of Hell.

“I have waited for over two decades for your return,” Abaddon hisses, just loud enough for me to hear. His large, velvety ears twitch, his black eyes likefire scorching my own. It takes me off guard again, the way his chest and torso look so human, but instead of arms, his shoulders merge into his wings, talons stretching out where his hands would be. Thick black fur begins at his lower abdomen, covering his hips all the way down to his clawed feet.

“Waited…for me?” I dare to ask, surprised that my throat opens enough for those words to squeeze out. I don’t have the heart to ask him why he’s waited. To throw me into the boiling pit of lava? To feast on my bones? I hate to admit it, but twenty-three years haven’t put much meat on these bones.

He takes one more step toward me until he’s inches from me, the smell of earth and sulfur wafting off his massive body, and I automatically bow my head, but he reaches out with one wing and chucks my chin, his long, sharp talon making me wince. He lifts my chin, tilting my head all the way back until our eyes meet.

“Is it really you, Clavicle?”

Depends, what do you want with this Clavicle?

I swallow hard, the knot in my throat bobbing.

“Yes,” I lie against the tightness of my throat, deciding to trust Mom on this one thing, at least.

It’s almost as if my voice puts him in a trance. His eyes fall closed. “Say it again.”

I clear my throat, trying hard to sound brave even though I’m certain I’m about to pass out fromterror, and shout loud enough for everyone in the cavern to hear. “It’s me. Clavicle.”

“SovereignClavicle,” Abaddon growls. His talon moves from beneath my chin, scraping along my throat, and hooking the back of my neck. Then pulls me in, and just when I think he’s about to bite my head off, his fanged mouth crashes against mine.

His lips are softer than they appeared, his tongue longer, and hell, even his fangs gently prod my lower lip with affection. I don’t know whether to lean into the kiss or bolt, but if I’m supposed to be this Clavicle, who he clearly thinks I am, I must play the part.

So, I press my hands against his muscled pecs and lean into the kiss, opening my mouth slightly to allow his long tongue access. My heart is palpitating like a butterfly in my chest. His kiss is rough and needy, like he really can’t decide whether to kiss me or bite me, so he does a little bit of both.

What surprises me is…I don’t mind it. I don’t mind the way his fangs poke into my lower lip until it’sjustpainful, the way his talon scrapes against the back of my neck while his other wing wraps tightly around my body, pinning me to him as his long tongue explores my mouth. I don’t mind—and—I actually enjoy it. My tongue slips out to meet his, and I drag the tip of my tongue over one fang, exploring the length of it. He moans at the intimacy, and that moan turns into aferal growl as my fingers lower to his muscled abdomen and my nails scrape down the velvet skin.

He pulls away, wings falling away from me, and stares down at me, his breaths shaky. I should be glad to be free, to have some space from this terrifying beast before me, but some internal part of me wants to linger, to keep tasting that nectar wine on his lips, to lose myself in his passion. Some part of me wishes Iwerethe sovereign this creature longs for. Some part of me wants to leave behind any dignity I thought I had, forget what world I came from, and be swept off my feet by this beast who just threw an innocent human into the lava pit.

What the hell is wrong with me?

“Our prayers have been answered,” Abaddon shouts, his commanding voice making me flinch as it echoes through the cavern. “Sovereign Clavicle has returned.”

Cheers reverberate through the cavern, making the ground tremble until I’m certain the entire mountain is going to collapse on us.

“Come on,” Abaddon tells me with a jerk of his chin as the music and drums resume. “Let’s go somewhere where we can talk.”

Too stunned to do otherwise, I walk behind him. We leave the large, overcrowded cavern and step into a quiet, pitch-black passageway. I’m glad to be away from all the beasts. But now an eerie quiet settlesaround us. Abaddon nudges me with his wing, and I take a hold of the velvety membrane, following him as we make several turns until I’m positive I’ll never find my way out of this maze again. Cool air presses around me, along with the silence that seems deafening after standing in that large open area where loud music played and feral beasts cheered.

“Where are you taking me?” I ask, my voice scarcely a whisper.

“Someplace private,” he answers. His deep voice is gentle now, not commanding and cold like it was in front of his people. “Twenty-three years of your absence has left the Five Empires in chaos. We have much to discuss.”

We weave through the maze of halls, up and down stairways that Abaddon is kind enough to warn me about as I cling to his wing. We arrive at a large arch with a ragged, threadbare red and gold tapestry hanging over it. Inside, a fire roars, as if he’d sent someone ahead of us to light it. The room is sparse, apart from a few bones and knickknacks on a mantle—including a gold-encrusted skull with the top of its head sawn off. Above, a large canopy bed hangs from the ceiling by gold chains, a rope ladder leading up to the bed. Apart from the crimson and gold blanket on the bed, there’s not much color in the room.

Across the cave bedroom, there’s a window—or door, since he probably uses it to fly in and out ofthis room. It could make for a perfect escape once Abaddon is gone…unless it’s set in the face of a cliff. In the distance, I can make out a glowing orange river of lava cutting through the black landscape across the broad plains. I step toward the window and look across a broad valley.

“A battle recently took place there,” Abaddon says behind me. “Between the Solar Fae and the rest of the world. The Solar Fae lost.” He’s so close, his breath rustling the hair on my head, and I shudder. “My colony stayed out of it, as we do in all fae wars. But now I’m wondering if we should have helped the Solar Fae win the war.” I look back at him, at the way his teeth flash with a vicious sneer. “Then maybe the Heart of Faerie wouldn’t be trying to kill us.”

My mouth is dry, my pulse throbbing in my throat. I’m not sure how long I can pretend like I know anything about this world, much less my place in it, but so far I’ve been able to keep up the ruse. Mom told me to make Abaddon believe I remember. I suppose, as long as I keep my mouth shut, I can’t make Abaddon believe otherwise.

Crossing the room, he hooks his talon into the handle of a pitcher made for bat talons, and pours crimson liquid into the skull-mug. He sets the pitcher aside and uses both talons to pick up the skull. Returning to my side, he offers me the skull, and Ihave no choice but to accept it with cold, trembling fingers.

“Stronger than what your human body is probably used to,” Abaddon says gently, “but I’m sure you could use it. Welcome home.”

I study the skull, my stomach turning. “Is this...a real skull?”

He tilts his head and grins, flashing those teeth and splinter like fangs. “As real as the one upon your shoulders.” When I don’t respond, his smile dies. “Surely you remember who it belongs to.” An audible swallow is my response, and his smile completely falters, that brooding V between his brows deepening. “It’s your father’s skull, Clavicle. You killed him. Remember?”

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