16. Hadeon

Everything had moved quickly after that old seer had spoken. Magic was already fading, so even a prophecy from the seer of some minor temple was worth more than gold.

KingObion of the GoldenKingdom was informed immediately and claimed me. I was hauled to his palace, and he stared down at me like I was some gutter rat who had run over his fine carpets. It wasn't far from the truth. His lips pulled tight to show his glowing white teeth as he snarled, "This pathetic boy, he's the GreatHero?"

Icouldn't even look up at him as he spoke, so all I remember was that dirt that was caked beneath my fingernails, so at odds with the fine rug I clutched in them.

"Take him to the dungeon. If he is worth something, he will show his merit."

Fromone prison to another. The pain was different than in the temple, but it was still pain. The king had his men torture me. I'd still been a youngling then, and my magic hadn't emerged. The king wasn't interested in waiting.

Timeblurred in the dungeons under the GoldenPalace. Was it day or night? I never knew. AllI knew was when there was pain and when there was not.

Whenmy body was finally sound again, they dragged me out into a dusty ring. Sand coated the floor, which was already pockmarked with black blood stains from the previous occupants. They threw me forward, and I landed hands first in the sand, coughing as the dust stung my eyes. Stone walls encircled the area, and above them rose several rows of seating, like I had been laid out on some great stage.

Theywere empty except for KingObion and a few attendants. There was an older fae with dark short hair that was beginning to show white at the temples. Next to him was a thin and rigid woman who held a tablet in one arm and a quill in the other. AsI looked up at them, she scratched something on the tablet like I was some experiment meant to be observed.

Istruggled to stand and saw the king raise his hand. At his gesture, great wooden doors beneath him swung open, and three full-grown and enormous fae strode forward. They were clearly warriors, wearing plate armor. They held no weapons; they didn't need them.

Iknew what was coming, but some part of me still dared to hope I was misreading the situation. As the first man's fist collided with my jaw, white light shot across my vision as the pain radiated through my face and neck. I fell to my knees, but they didn't stop. Feet collided with my ribs, and a hand pulled me back to stand just for another fist to collide with my nose. There was a sharp crack followed by pain, and blood gushed down my face.

Iknew that my fae body could withstand quite the beating, and these men seemed determined to push it to the limit. I knew nothing but pain, and my vision tunneled. My mind fled my body to protect itself, and as red clouded my vision and the torches of the arena danced, I could hear that dragon's laughter. Pathetic, worthless, delicious.

"Enough." The king's voice rang over the arena, and the blows stopped, but the pain lingered. Rough hands grabbed me under my arms and dragged me out of the light and into the darkness.

Iwas tossed away and collided with the wet stone floor of my cell. Blood clouded my vision, and I could taste it running down my throat. My head spun as I lay there, willing my body to stop healing and just let me die.

That'swhen I saw her. I had thought it was the seer, at first. She had the same golden-brown hair. But she was young, younger than me, with striking blue eyes that shone like the sky I hadn't seen in weeks. She must have been a dream. She was far too beautiful to be real. Perhaps the gods could be merciful if this was the last thing I was to see.

Painshot through me as she touched a cool rag to my beaten face, and I winced. She frowned delicately when she saw my pain and moved with increased gentleness.

"I'm sorry." It was all she said. She had nothing to be sorry for. She was a vision from the gods themselves. What could she ever have to apologize for?

Shecontinued to clean my wounds. By the time she finished, I had almost completely healed. My head still pounded, but I sat up. She leaned away from me, and I reached out my hand and grabbed her.

"You're real?"

Isaw a deep sadness rise in her eyes. "Yes, I'm real. My name is Pallas."

PresentDay

"Any news from CommanderLuxos?" I asked.

"He returned, claiming that he still could not enter the city. It seems the prince remains in their possession," Plagis said.

"Pallas as well, then?" I asked.

Theman's face hardened. "Yes, the woman remains with them as well. Sire, if I may… she is the only person left who still knows about your origins. Perhaps it is best if Luxos… removes her for us."

"No."

"YourEminence, should she ever—"

"I said no, Plagis. We have had this discussion before. Pallas is mine. She will not betray me. She wouldn't dare. Don't make me say it again." He bowed differentially, knowing better than to argue, but I saw his twisted mind working.

Ithought of Pallas, her soft skin, her flowing hair. I thought of the nights we'd spent wrapped in each other's arms, her soft moans and whimpers. Her laughter was a melody, and her smile was more beautiful than the breaking of the dawn. I loved her for it and hated how she had always shined brighter than me.

Ithought of her anguished cries and how, over the centuries, I'd broken her down. She was still beautiful perfection. But inside, she was broken and ragged. She was mine, completely, no longer a glowing sun but a collapsed star. Slaves were common, but to own someone as I did her bordered on divine. I possess her mind, body, and soul. I had ruined her, my first glorious conquest. I was sure I would eventually grow tired of her and her obedience. But that was my prerogative, not Plagis'.

Hebacked out of the room but froze when I spoke again. "Remember, there are two people left who know my origins. I would hope that I can instill enough loyalty that no harm should need to come to either of them." Plagis nodded, and I knew he understood.