Page 4 of A Queen Of Broken Realms
The sting of tears gathers behind my eyes as Cole leans down to give me a hug. His warmth seeps through the silk of my robe that suddenly feels so cold as the adrenaline subsides, leaving jittering, sparking nerves in its absence. “Is she okay? Is everyone okay?”
“Yeah, Lu. They’re good. I mean, Ediye sent me here to check on you even though it might result in my everlasting death, so I know where I stand in the order of things.”
I laugh and grip him tighter. Tears of relief nearly shake free from the edges of my eyes as the vibrations of shock quiver through my flesh. “Hoes before mo-fos, you know the drill. Don’t take it personally.”
“I know,” Cole says through a laugh as he pulls away to press a kiss to my cheek. “That was clear from day one.”
Cole’s hands slip behind my neck. The cool gold chain glides across my collarbones as the familiar weight of the small pendant settles against my skin. “My necklace,” I whisper, touching the delicate links.
“You left that behind in the snow when you turned to cinders on us. I never thought I’d be so relieved to see someone collapse into a heap of dust.”
Ashen claps a hand on Cole’s shoulder as the demon stands. He extends a hand to him. “I’m sorry that I threatened to turn your eyes into cake pops in Cairo.”
Cole smiles and takes Ashen’s forearm. The grip of two soldiers. My heart is ready to burst open and spill glitter across my ribs as I watch their exchange. “Well, looks like you’ve scratched that particular itch for the moment.” Cole winks at me and I grin as Ashen claps him on the shoulder once more, a little harder this time. Cole’s smile broadens but quickly fades as he shifts his gaze between me and Ashen. “I can’t stay. I need to let the others know you’re okay. We’re at the coven over the mountain from Valentina’s estate. The hybrids and werewolves are keeping their distance. We’ll make sure it’s safe for whenever you can make it back.”
“We will come as soon as we can,” Ashen says, and Cole gives a single nod in reply before he turns and starts down the steps of the dais. “Cole…”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you. For everything that you’ve done for us.”
Cole tries to contain a smile, but he can’t keep it from his eyes. He gives one more nod and jogs down the steps, skirting around the bodies on the floor as he heads through the long, quiet hall.
“You’re growing soft, Reaper,” I say as I reach up and take Ashen’s offered hand.
“I blame that entirely on you.” Ashen gives me a subdued smile before he gathers me in his arms, lifting me from Zida. He turns to stride down the dais, the smoke and sparks swirling around us like a billowing gown.
“Spear,” I say, pointing to the floor.
“I’ll come for it later. Zida will guard it.”
“Head,” I say, pointing to Eshkar’s blood-spattered face.
“I’ll come back for that too.”
“Feet.” I point to my toes that poke out from the edge of my robe. “I can walk.”
“I know you can. But I’m not having your soles stained by the blood of your enemies.”
My heart tumbles in my chest. I loop my arms behind Ashen’s neck and tilt my head back to smile at him. “That’s very romantic, Reaper. So was the eyeball thing.”
Ashen regards me for a long moment as we walk. There’s affection and pride surfacing in his eyes with every step he takes, drowning out the worry and rage that still roll through the black flame. “Your idea of romance is perhaps a bit dark.”
“Pfft. You love my dark side.”
Ashen lifts me closer as though I weigh nothing, placing a lingering kiss to my forehead. “You are right. I do.”
I lay my face to Ashen’s matte black armor, wishing I could press my skin to his warmth. Even through the cool, thick metal I can still hear the steady thud of his heart and the whoosh of air swirling in his lungs. It’s soothing. The one steady percussion in the melody of chaos.
The further we walk from the dais, the closer we seem to get to reality. The reality that this is still a super messed-up place, as evidenced by the souls who drift in the shadows and the scuttling of the few crawlers who stayed behind in the Kur when the demons left. There’s also the reality that I’m now supposed to be running this ridiculous circus, despite the fact that I know very little about this realm. I’m aware some shady shit goes on here, no surprise. I’m sure Leander was honest when he spoke about hunts andthe gauntlet, whatever the fuck that is. But, like…I don’t even know about regular, everyday stuff. Where do I buy booze? And with what money? Where do I go to get a wax? Shit’s gonna start getting real feral downstairs if I don’t get answers soon.
Plus, there’s the more important issue. Namely, I don’t know how to lead a bunch of demons who literally just stabbed me in the back. I’ve been hiding for three hundred years, for fucksakes. Anonymity has kinda been my jam. This is quite the opposite from my recent lifestyle in Sanford. And even if it wasn’t, even if I was some kind of vampire siren socialite, it still doesn’t mean I know shit about leading a realm.
These thoughts just keep swirling in my head like a whirlpool, sucking me under. I don’t say anything as we arrive at a black carriage, Ashen setting me down on the first step. I get in and sit back against my torn robe, my shoulder still a painful physical reminder of the hacked-up thoughts scattered in my brain. Ashen climbs in after me and closes the door, and the carriage lurches ahead, pulling away from the Kur.
I feel a thousand things all at once, rolling through my head just like the wheels gliding beneath us on the dark road.What the fuck, that seems to be a dominant thought. Dread is equally mixed with an odd kind of excitement, like I’m on a dodgy carnival ride with rusty bolts and it might be fun but I’m not entirely sure I won’t die. A devious whisper reminds me I now have the power to dismantle this realm and even rebuild it the way I want, but that thought is always drowned out by the enormity of the task ahead. I feel moments of relief sitting across from Ashen, who’s watching me with both suspicion and a bit of amusement in his faint smile. But then other moments I just feel like squirming from beneath the weight of his gaze and the scrutiny in the dim flame that ripples through his eyes. I guess mysuper expressive facemust be at full expression capacity and he looks like he doesn’t want to miss a moment.
I feel like I want to crawl out of my skin. I look out the window to the Bay of Souls and that definitely doesn’t fucking help. My whole body writhes involuntarily and I drag my hands down my face.
