Chapter 49
T he portal crackled sounds of imminent death. Torin's inky hair was blown away from his face by the sheer power. Emara watched him with tears spilling onto her cheeks as he took a few steps back, a hand shielding his eyes as the greedy portal swallowed the Stone whole.
No, no, no! What had he done?
Torin turned, his gaze on the demon. "Now let her go." The scar on his forehead was now under a full scowl, and his cheekbones were sharper than the blade in his hand. "Now!" he roared, taking a step in Emara's direction.
The clan on the other side of the gardens readied themselves once more, moving into a battle stance.
"Release the Empress of Air," Artem Stryker said, stepping forward and removing a second axe from his belt, "and we will let you live."
Just as the knight of the underworld loosened his grip on her neck, a boom travelled from somewhere deep in the portal. A flash broke through the gardens, and everyone shielded their eyes. Vibrations rocked the earth, and everyone stumbled.
As Emara regained her vision, she saw a colossal man standing face to face with Torin. Her legs gave out, and the only thing that kept her from hitting the ground was the hand that was still around her neck. She would recognise that face anywhere. She had slept with the portrait of it under her pillow since she had found it as a child.
Emara had never understood why her grandmother protected her from the truth of who her father was. Now she did.
Theodora had been protecting her from this moment, from this fate, from seeing in the flesh the man who had fathered her. She had been protecting her from seeing the cruel creature that her mother had given up her life to banish to the underworld.
The King of the Underworld had obtained the Stones he needed to escape his cage, and destiny had brought darkness and air together again.
Her mother had died for nothing. Her mother only used two of the relics to bind him in the underworld, but Emara was never sure which ones.
Dizziness consumed her.
Balan, King of the Nine Hells, looked down at the Commander of the Blacksteel Hunting Clan.
But Torin, as bold as the temple that stood behind her in the darkness of this storm, did not recoil. The wind pulled at his clothing and ripped at his hair, and the blood of the beasts that he had slayed dripped down his face, arms, and tunic.
He lifted his chin and squared his shoulders as the most dangerous creature in the whole of the universe looked through him. "Too long have you sat watching from the darkness. Too long have you had your dark underlings destroy on your behalf. It's good to finally see the coward that calls himself the king come out from behind the veil."
Everyone was so deathly still and so violently silent.
Emara's heart was screaming and battering against her ribcage.
Torin pushed out his chest with that Blacksteel confidence as he warmed up the swords in his hands. "If you defile our lands to seek out relics you are not worthy of taking, you better bring your worst, Dark King. "
The Dark King's smile made Emara's skin want to slither inside of her bones just to avoid being present. The knight that still held her began laughing as the earth began to shake again.
In the shadows of the portal was a serpent's head, larger than any demon she had ever laid eyes on. It slithered onto the hallowed grounds, and Emara heard the screams of the ancestors that lived in the veil between worlds.