Page 21 of The Umbra King

His anger welled within him, and he gripped the stone beneath his hands as images of Atarah lying on the ground in a pool of herown blood assaulted his mind. He’d never forget the look on Adila’s face as she doled out his punishment. Five-hundred years trapped in Vincula. The longest sentence in all the realms.“This is for your own good, brother.”

He bided his time until he could exact his revenge that would very well seal his fate, leaving his sister no choice but to send him to hell, anyway.

Five-hundred years was a long time, and resentment had festered within his soul. He knew he was beyond the point of salvation.

Opening her eyes,Rory scrambled backwards across the cold floor. Gone was the concrete of the judgment chambers, and in its place was a grey marble circle in the middle of a sea of black marble floors. Torches lined the walls, giving just enough light to see, but not enough to make out minor details across the room.

She looked around as she climbed to her feet.Vincula. Her awareness heightened, and she spun in a circle, searching for someone to tell her what to do. There were no chains encircling her wrists and no cell holding her captive, confusing her already muddled mind.

Rory hadn’t seen him,not at first. Not until his commanding presence drew her eyes across the room and almost knocked her to the floor again. Lounging casually on his black throne was a man who exuded such raw power, she could feel it down to her core. Something was different about him, but he wasn’t close enough for her to see him clearly in the dim lighting.

There was a walkway of light grey marble running from the throne to the circle on which she stood, and on either side, different people gathered with various degrees of curiosity. She didn’t know who they were, but she knew the man in front of her was the Umbra King.

The crowd stayed quiet as Rory stared across the massive room atthe king, and something compelled her to go to him, but she held fast. Achingly slow, he rose from his throne and descended the dais as shadows rippled in his wake, making Rory’s eyes widen. He was the king of monsters among men and the villain of everyone’s nightmares.

His measured steps against the marble floor were the only sounds as they echoed through the air. She was sure no one was breathing; herself included.

He walked with a dangerous grace that would send the fiercest mystics skittering, and the shadows permeating the air around him were vicious in their own right.

He was tall and muscular, wearing a fitted black button-down shirt opened at the top, perfectly tailored black slacks, and silver rings adorning both hands. His bright golden eyes stared her down, and when he was close enough for her to see his terrifyingly beautiful face, she stepped back in horror.It couldn’t be.

As her eyes traveled the length of him, she nearly fainted from shock.

He stood out against the rest of the room, not because he was the king, but because he was in vivid color. His skin was a hue she’d never seen before.Sun-tanned beige, her soul whispered in the back of her mind, and his hair wasblonde.

While seeing him in color was a shock, it wasn’t what left her speechless. She didn’t know much about the notorious Umbra King, but what shedidknow was ten years ago she watched him murder her sister.

The king stared at Rory, and she dug her nails into her palms as anger and disgust rippled through her. He cocked his head to the side, and she forced herself not to squirm under his scrutiny.

Without taking his eyes from hers, he held out his arm and snapped his fingers. Within seconds, an enforcer she recognized from her sentencing hurried to his side and placed a sheet of paper into his waiting hand. After the man retreated, the king scanned the document.

As he read, his face morphed from one of curiosity to one of disgust and anger. “Aurora Raven.” His voice was deep and filled with an icy calm that raised the hairs on her arms.

“Umbra King,” she spat back. Her voice lowered so only he could hear as she said, “Or should I call you Bane?”

An amused look crossed his face as he took a step forward, and shadows curled around them both. Before she knew what was happening, a shadow grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him. “You will address me as ‘Your Grace,’ or I will carve your tongue from that pretty mouth of yours.”

Blind rage filled her, and if it were not for the fact he held her sister’s soul, she would have tried to rip his head from his neck with her bare hands and bathe in his blood.

Her traitorous body reacted to the masculine sex appeal radiating from him, but no amount of attraction would dull the hatred she had for the manbefore her.

His face was cold and impassive. “How did you convince my sister to spare your life?” Again, she stayed silent, and the shadow released her chin as he turned his attention to the paper in his hand. “Your contract is for five-hundred years.” He circled her slowly, and she could feel his eyes raking over her in cold assessment. “Congratulations. You have been given the longest sentence of any mystic in the history of the realms.”

“I suppose she thought five-hundred years with you was worse than hell,” Rory deadpanned.

As he walked into her line of sight, he stepped close enough that she could see the different shades of gold in his eyes. “I promise, little butcher, after your time with me, you will wish she sent you to hell. My only regret is when you return to Erdikoa, you will not remember your time here.” His breath fanned over her skin, and goosebumps cascaded to her toes.

The king turned to address the crowd as he walked away from her. “It seems the worst of you has graced us with her presence.” Hepaused as a hush fell over the crowd. “Miss Raven has not only taken a life; she has takenthirteen.”

Gasps and murmurs moved through the crowd, and Rory straightened her spine. She knew her crimes were horrendous, but she would not allow herself to regret them.

“Some of you who have been here only a year or two may have heard of her.” The king stepped back and swept his arm toward her with fanfare. “She is otherwise known as The Butcher.”

A man standing at the edge of the crowd recoiled and turned to the woman next to him, whispering in her ear. From there, the information of who she was spread through the crowd, and the looks of curiosity soon turned to those of fear.

The smile the king directed at her was one of pure malice, and her own face twisted in disdain. He turned back to the crowd. “As you know, inmates convicted of murder are sentenced to work in the palace so the legion and I can monitor their behavior.” Shadows pushed her from behind until she was stumbling closer to him. “Miss Raven is no different.”

The announcement elicited more murmurs from the crowd, and he held up a hand to silence them. “I trust you will give her the welcome she deserves.”

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