Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 111898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
Was that the reason she’d forgone the elixir in the last vision?
Maybe she wouldn’t do it, no matter the cost. There must be another way to win. What should she do, what should she do?
Taliyah appeared a few feet away, a vial in hand. She opened her mouth to speak but stayed quiet when she noticed Neeka’s agitated condition. “No need to worry, Neeks. Your non-consort will heal, you have my word.” She tossed the vial.
Neeka snatched the thing from the air, rasping, “Thank you.” She didn’t tell Taliyah what she’d seen as she poured the contents down Rathbone’s throat. She’d thrown enough at her friend already.
Finally, his wounds began to heal, and Neeka sagged with relief. He didn’t awaken, but he did sag over the floor and sleep, tension seeping from him.
“See? My part of the bargain is complete,” her friend said. “Now work on yours.”
19
As excruciating pain downgraded to mere discomfort, Rathbone’s thoughts unscrambled. A memory rose to the fore, carrying him back to the day he’d met Lore...
Eons ago
The Realm of Agonies
Shifted in the form of a common demon soldier, Rathbone led a chained and bloody Hades behind him. Sunlight shone all around, illuminating a thriving town square filled with torture chambers rentable by the hour, blood saloons, and houses of ill repute. Considering he was one of many carting a prisoner, he drew little attention despite his captive’s notoriety. Helped that most residents were busy tormenting souls of the damned.
Pit fires raged here and there, casting flickering shadows and creating a revolting spectacle. Poor, unfortunate humans hung on spits, roasting inside the merciless inferno while bloodthirsty crowds jeered and cackled with glee. From all sides, agonizing screams pierced the air, assaulting Rathbone’s ears. The acrid scent of smoldering spirits tainted the breeze, stinging his nostrils, nearly choking him with its bitterness.
From the sights, sounds, and smells, every aspect of the vile scene disgusted him. If he decided to be king of this realm, things would be different. Demons would be banished, and spirits would be liberated. To start.
“I think you’re enjoying your role of captor a little too much,” Hades said, his tone as dry as a desert.
“Just wanting to fit in with the locals,” he responded, trying not to grin. He was enjoying his role a little too much, despite his disgust for his current form. The urge to claw through the scaly hide remained a constant itch in the back of his brain.
“Well? Is this the Underworld realm for you or not?”
Good question. He’d come here to scout. Unlike the other realms he’d visited, he hadn’t rendered a decision in the first five minutes. The Realm of Horrors had been too cold, and the Realm of Falsities too dreary. But this...this he might like. Wide open spaces, warm breezes, and opulent structures. The buildings featured ornate gold finishes, glistening marble, and elaborate carvings. Especially the palace.
The colossal edifice perched atop a towering mountain peak, shimmering in the distance as though doused in starlight. A sight to behold, a beacon of radiance, and the picture of what had once been an unattainable dream. To claim this as his own, he must first eliminate its owner, King Styx.
Rathbone had never met the monarch, but rumors of his cruelty had spread far and wide. Once a merciful leader, he was said to have experienced a gradual metamorphosis, transforming into a ruthless tyrant for reasons unknown.
Killing him would be a pleasurable challenge. But... “I’m not sure,” he told his uncle. Seven other Underworld kingdoms remained, and he should probably inspect them all. What if he preferred another?
The territory he selected was to be his forever home. His first home, really. Something he’d spent countless hours fantasizing about during his years in Aweland, the realm his mother had stashed him in to hide him from her husband. There, he’d suffered untold heartbreaks, unending self-recriminations, and bone-deep loneliness. The memories he carried with him needed replacing. A happier counterpart, at the very least.
“Is that Hades, the King of the Dead?” a demon called before whistling. “How’d you bag and tag him?”
“Easily,” Rathbone returned without slowing his step, earning several guffaws.
“I might stab you in the genitals for that one,” Hades muttered for his ears alone.
“How much do you want for him?” another demon shouted from the throng now congregating in front of a guillotine.
“Bring me your head, and I’ll let you borrow him for an hour,” Rathbone responded.
In a blink, another demon whipped out a sword, cut off the speaker’s head, and raced Rathbone’s direction with the abomination in hand. Ah, disloyalty at its finest. An all too common trait among the species, and something he despised with every fiber of his being. One of the many reasons he loved Hades. Those the King of the Dead loved, he protected, always staying true to his word. An honor reserved for few, and a luxury Rathbone hadn’t experienced until meeting the other male.