Page 2 of Lord of Eternal Night (Darkmourn Universe 1)

“If you do not laugh, dear Lamiere, you cry.”

She stopped me halfway down the corridor. The sounds of the coven had picked up. They spoke in rushed whispers, reflecting the inner anxiety I had for the evening ahead of me.

We both were similar heights which made it easier to hold her gaze. Mother would say that the resurgence of my power stunted my growth, that and the insolent human she sired me from.

But I did not mind. It was an inside joke I shared with Lamiere, as I was the same height as the old woman. Lamiere revelled in it.

“Promise me you will be careful.”

I averted my eyes, unable to see the worry in her stare. “I will be fine.”

“Do not be foolish. He is dangerous and unforgiving. Never has someone returned from the Claiming. You may have the upper hand in training and preparation. But out there…” she pointed to the window far back in the bedroom. “Is different from in here. Be smart. Be cautious.”

“There is one great difference between me and the ninety-nine that precede me.” I raised my spare hand and wiggled my fingers slightly. Sparks of fire tickled across my skin as a phantom wind blew down the corridor, tousling my loose, brown hair. “I have power.”

“And so will he. You are cut from the same cloth, Jak, just be wary.”

I could not fight the curl of my lip at her comparison. “We are nothing alike.”

Lamiere’s brow furrowed as she regarded me. “Come, Jak, before your mother believes you have fled for the night. It is time to say your goodbyes and receive your final blessings.”

“I have not wasted a childhood to simply flee at the final hour.”

Lamiere’s face pinched into a scowl. “You are doing what is required to restore our power. Your life and duty to our kind is the most valuable. That, Jak Bishop, is not a waste.”

* * *

Whereas I could callupon the elements with a single thought, the only ability my fellow coven members had was the art of staying silent. It was a pathetic ability — passive, unlike those I wielded. The last of my kind to possess the true power which had long since dwindled out.

It was why they all came to give me their final blessing before the Claiming. A moment in our history — the tipping of the scales of fate.

If I would succeed in my task, they would soon share the power they had since long lost.

The room we entered was full of them. Witches. Still and silent they filled the space, heads turning slowly to watch me walk amongst them. I kept my chin raised as the weight of countless stares settled on me.

Lamiere held onto me with firm, stiff fingers, but I did not need her touch to calm me. These men and women would tumble beneath a single gust of conjured wind. I could shake the very room and layer them in broken wood and stone.

They did not unnerve me.

But the woman in the midst of them did.

Her raven black hair draped like rivers of molten shadow over her narrow shoulders. Everything about her face was soft. From the light blue of her gaze to the button shape of her nose. She was a painting of beauty. She was of an age that would expect deep lines to set across her porcelain skin. But she clung to youth more so than me.

“You look divine, my son. Handsome. Likes of which the creature has never seen.”Creature. The only name she dared speak of him. “The perfect ruse.”

I released Lamiere’s hand, leaving her at the edge of the circle. “Mother.” I bowed to the matriarch of the coven, and my family. The only blood relative I had left.

“Let me take you in for this final time.”

The crowd murmured in agreement.

“Do you hold little faith in my return … Mother?”

She barely flinched at my bite. Her finger snaked beneath my chin and raised it, her nail nipping into skin. “Now, my son, you know there is no room for failure. You have the tools. You have the confidence in your abilities. You… you know what is to be done and when.”

I snap my head from her touch, leaving her painted nail to hover awkwardly in the air. “It will be done.”

She opened her arms wide, smiling to the crowd that listened in. “To restore our greatness. To break the curse that was laid upon us when the creature was punished for his… greed.”

---