Page 1 of A Kingdom of Death & Darkness
ONE
Crymson
I try notto look at him, but that radiating pulse within him seeps right into me, and I find myself side-eyeing the Thorn King once again. Even among the smoke and ash, the thorns piercing his skin glint with a shine like daggers dipped in ink. They frame his eyes like a peculiar mask. His long hair is tied back with braids and bones, the locks as dark as a raven’s wings. He’s enormous in size, his leathery wingspan giving him a godly appearance of height and power.
And I’m supposed to believe this man is my dear sweet kin?
No. That’s a lie. Whatever he is and whatever magic that binds us isn’t something I want.
Pain strikes my heart then. A pulse of heat and stabbing agony splits my chest, and I fold on impact, my hand bracing against my knee as I take one deep breath after the other.
Thorn halts immediately. As does Seven. And as does the entire fae army following behind us.
“Thorn,” the King’s friend says slowly, carefully, “It’s not safe to carry on at this pace.”
The Thorn King doesn’t reply. He keeps his cruel blue eyes shifting around the smoky land, looking for something, but what, I don’t know. Ultimately, his gaze drags back to me. I feel his concern as he stares, but I refuse to meet his gaze.
I push myself up and swallow down the lingering throbbing that’s fading in my chest. I ignore it. I have to. I don’t know what the pain is, but it feels strangely what heartache sounds like.
“It’s your mating mark resisting the distance,” Seven says on an absent breath. “I feel it too.”
My lips part, and I watch him walk on into the darkness, the heavens beyond him gleaming with a fiery hue that illuminates the dark hanging clouds above.
“Can we not take the dragons?” I feel ridiculous even asking that. I say it casually like we might take the train or the bus across town. Let’s just hop aboard a dragon to save a bit of time, you know?
“They are forbidden in the Blood Kingdom. They’re at the borders waiting for us.” The King gives a slight glance to his fae friend, and the look alone sends the man into action. He leaves the King’s side, and stark leather wings spread wide from his broad shoulder blades. He kicks off from the ground with so much power, the dust and dirt swirl erratically around us.
The ashen smoke swallows him up. And he’s gone.
“Let me fly you there. It’s much safer,” the Thorn King says, stopping dead in front of me, causing my feet to scuff the toes of big black boots.
I peer up at the man who’s supposed to be my kin. Love should be between us.
Only rage resides there though. Hot tears sting my eyes from the ash-kissed wind, and I hate how weak that must make me look. He didn’t care about leaving me in the foster system forthe first seventeen years of my life. He didn’t care about the men who would take advantage of me in every single house I was supposed to call a home. He didn’t give one fuck about me.
He’s not allowed to pretend he cares at all about my safety.
“If Seven has to walk the Dark Lands, then I will too.” I shove past his enormous frame, but both men are hot on my heels.
“Crymson, go with him. I’ll meet you at the borders in no time,” Seven whispers in a rush of words.
“I’ll walk.”
“Let me carry you then. Let me get us there faster,” the vampire offers.
“How do I know you won’t escape with her?” the King asks sternly.
“Because we came of our own free will,” Seven fires back.
“Is free will something Prince Christian gives to all of his slaves?”
Seven stops hard at my side, and in three big steps. the lean vampire is chest to chest with the Thorn King. The King looks down on the man who stands a full foot shorter than himself. But there’s a dark rage that thrums through both of them as their glares fully collide.
Jesus, how did every man in my life become so fucking exhausting?
The sounds of their heated words turn to muttering when I pass them by and carry on in the direction we were headed. A few warriors, their faces painted in that same stark black war paint, eye me. It’s like a mask of ink smeared across watchful gleaming eyes. Their attention slips from me to Thorn and then back again. Ultimately, everyone waits for their King to finish having a dick-measuring contest. I don’t know why he would because Seven is a hundred and ten percent agrow-er.
The hot smoke swallows me up, but I can’t help the smirk that touches my lips as I think about Seven’s magical cockabilities. I wonder if he’d let me test just how big he could get. If we fill a tub of water, will it just slowly turn into the most enthralling and useless submarine known to man?
