Page 43 of The Ascended
"Miss Morvaren. You are to come with me now."
One of Xül's servants had stayed behind, fidgeting with the hem of his robes as he looked nervously at the portal. The tear flickered and wavered like it might disappear at any second,leaving us stranded in this glittering prison. I wouldn't have been surprised if it did—abandoning unwanted things seemed exactly like something Xül would do.
Thatcher and I looked at each other one last time. We both nodded solemnly before I forced myself to walk away.
Every step toward that portal felt like tearing away a piece of my soul. Like leaving behind everything that had ever mattered, walking willingly toward my own destruction.
To Draknavor. A place I'd only heard of in whispered stories—the domain where all souls went, where the dead dwelt in eternal darkness.
But as I reached the rip between worlds, I didn’t hesitate. I simply walked through.
The sound of wind whistled past me, carrying a familiar briny scent. And then it snapped shut behind us, and suddenly I was standing in a world that existed beyond the boundaries of everything I'd ever known.
What stretched before me was nothing like the stories I’d been told.
An imposing black castle rose from dark sand, its spires reaching toward a sky the color of fresh blood. Sharp rocks jutted from the shoreline like the teeth of some massive beast, and between them, waves rolled onto a beach in a steady, hypnotic dance, shimmering foam dragging along the sand at their retreat. The sight should have been terrifying—this nightmare of black stone and crimson sky. It called to me instead.
Maybe it was the ocean. Even here, there was still water that moved and breathed and sang the same song I'd grown up hearing. The sand beneath my feet was black as volcanic glass. Still sand. Still a beach. Still somehow reminiscent of home, even painted in these otherworldly hues.
In the distance, already striding past massive iron gates marked with an emblem of a black key crossed with a silver scythe, was my new mentor. The Prince of Draknavor, apparentlytoo important—or too annoyed—to wait for his unwanted mentee.
He couldn’t ignore me that easily. I picked up my pace, the flowing skirts of my gown tangling around my legs, then broke into a full sprint. The servant behind me made a sound of alarm, but I ignored him.
I'd spent my entire life being underestimated, being told to be quiet and careful. Not anymore.
Xül flung open the castle's heavy doors—massive things that looked like they could withstand a siege. My hand slammed against the wood as it began to close. The impact jarred my shoulder, but I shoved the door open anyway, my breathing ragged from the sprint and the thin air of this new domain.
"Excuse me!" I huffed, pushing inside and immediately circling around him to block his path.
The interior of the castle was just as imposing as the exterior—all soaring arches and shadowed alcoves, lit by what looked like floating orbs of pale fire. But I barely had time to take it in before Xül finally deemed it polite to look at me directly.
Up close, his presence was even more overwhelming than it had been in the arena. Those eyes narrowed on me. He was tall enough that I had to tilt my head back to meet his gaze, and handsome in the way that predators were beautiful—lean and powerful and dangerous.
"Um... so—" I started, then immediately cursed myself for the breathless quality in my voice.
"You can get out of my way." His voice was cultured, precise, every word clipped with aristocratic disdain.
The dismissal made my blood simmer, burning away my nerves like vapor. Good. Anger I could work with. Anger mademedangerous too.
"Care to tell me what exactly I'm supposed to do now?" I planted my feet, making it clear I had no intention of moving.
"That's what the servants are for." He began to move around me again, but I stepped back into his path.
"Are the servants going to train me too?"
Xül's sneer was a work of art—beautiful and cutting and utterly without warmth. He leaned down until his breath tickled my ear, and I fought not to shiver at the proximity.
"Notthoseservants," he murmured, and there was something lethal in the way he said it.
What the fuck does that mean?
My heart stuttered, but I lifted my chin anyway. "You'resupposed to train me."
"We'll get around to it." This time he successfully maneuvered past me, already shrugging out of his formal jacket like our conversation was over. The garment hit the floor, followed immediately by his shoes as he kicked them off without breaking stride. “In the meantime, enjoy the many amenities of the Bone Spire.”
Servants appeared from nowhere to collect the discarded clothing, their movements so practiced it was clearly a regular occurrence. I was dealing with a new level of prick.
"What am I supposed to do now?" I called after him, my voice dripping with disdain.
