Chapter 28

Ursula could see nothing but shadows. Chilly wind whipped at her skin, and she shivered in Abrax’s grip. Why had Bael told her that he wasn’t able to get his magic back? With a sinking feeling, she had a feeling that it had been her. With his magic, he thought he was a danger to her, driven by bloodlust. So he’d given up his magic for her, and the thought tightened her stomach. If he’d had his magic when they’d stormed the dragon lair, the dragons wouldn’t have stood a chance.

Abrax’s powerful wings beat the air like a war drum, the rhythm melding with the pounding of her heart. Frigid air rushed over her skin, and as they flew, she pushed out the talon tips piercing her flesh—pushed out all thoughts, in fact—except for Bael. The dragons, the golems, the Drake—they all wanted him dead. But Ursula had seen him fight, and she knew he had a chance.

They must have been flying for ten minutes at least when the beating of Abrax’s wings began to slow. Her stomach lurched as they descended, and her feet brushed the ground, then she stumbled to her knees.

“Abrax?” She hated herself for showing weakness, and he didn’t respond. Still blinded by shadow magic, she crawled to her knees, grasping around on the damp earth, feeling only pine needles beneath her fingers. The air smelled sharply of evergreens. So she was in a forest. Figuring that out didn’t exactly help—the fact remained that she couldn’t see and was shackled.

“Get up.” Abrax grabbed her cuffed wrists, roughly pulling her to her feet.

He pushed her forward, and she stumbled over roots and the uneven forest floor. It took all her concentration just to stay upright. “Where are you taking me?”

He didn’t answer, but she could feel the roots start to thin, the ground growing more bare, and a breeze rushing over her skin. A clearing, perhaps.

Abrax pushed her forward, and she stumbled over a wooden step. The breeze stilled as they entered a stairwell of some kind—a damp space that smelled of wood. Abrax’s dark magic crawled all over her body, making her shiver as she climbed the stairs. At the top of the stairs, Abrax leaned past her, and a shudder ran up her spine. The sound of a door creaked.

“Move,” said Abrax, pushing her forward again.

She stumbled forward onto a wooden floor that creaked beneath her feet, and into a room that smelled of mold and decay. Her heart thundered against her ribs. Where is he taking me?

After ten paces, Abrax opened another door. “Watch your step.”

He shoved her and she tumbled down, her body flailing against wooden stairs, until she slammed against the ground. At least it was soft—dirt—but even so it hurt. Her arms and ribs were bruised, and she’d smacked her head on the dirt. The smell of mold nearly suffocated her. As she pushed herself to her feet with a grunt, her pulse raced. She was in a basement. This was not good.

She tried to turn, to run back the way they’d come, but Abrax shoved her again. Arsehole.

“Don’t worry,” he snarled. “We’re almost there now.”

“Almost where?” When he didn’t answer, she said, “If you hurt me, Bael will come for you. And Emerazel will send Kester after me.”

Abrax merely dragged her forward by one of her elbows. After only a few steps he stopped. For just a second, his fingers brushed her check. In the next instant, those same fingers were around her throat. He reached behind her, breaking through the shackles that bound her wrists. Her hands were free, but she still couldn’t see. Already, he was pushing a blade against her belly.

“I need you to strip,” he said.

Ursula’s heart threatened to gallop out of her chest. What was he playing at? He’d never shown any real sexual interest in her. The one time they’d kissed, he’d been oddly repulsedby the experience.

“Why?” she asked.

His blade cut into her hip. “I won’t ask again.”

A portal. He wanted to take her through a portal. To the Shadow Realm? No fucking way. “I’m not going to take off my clothes.” Abrax stepped back, but the next thing she felt was a powerful force slamming against the side of her skull. And then, nothing.

The icy chillof the water woke her with a start, and she thrashed about wildly as it closed over her head. She tried to swim, but the currents pulled her down deeper. Her hands were bound again with magic shackles, and water rushed into her lungs. She gagged, thrashing frantically in the dark, sinking to a watery grave.

Something brushed against her skin, and voices began to whisper in her ear. “You have been away so long, little one.” Icy cold fingers stroked along her thigh. “She has more of that delicious fire.”

Ursula bucked, twisting away from the touch.

“No, little one. Stay with us awhile. We are so cold. We need your warmth.”

Ursula thrashed in the water, desperate to escape from the Forgotten Ones.

Her lungs burned, but a force seemed to tug her upwards, and the fingers that brushed over her skin slipped away. As her head breached the surface, she gasped. Abrax’s shadow magic still blinded her, but the creosote smell in the air told her exactly where she was. The Shadow Realm. The fucking moon.

Rough hands—Abrax’s?—dragged her out of the water and onto a cold stone floor. Ice dripped down her back. She was naked. The tension on her bonds slackened, and as she scrambled to pull her knees to her chest—shivering uncontrollably, her teeth chattering—the shadow magic obscuring her vision fell away.

Curled on the floor, she rubbed her eyes, surveying the room. It looked like the water portal room in Bael’s manor, with a pool of water in its center and narrow windows revealing a stark lunar landscape. Abrax stood in the center of the room, pulling a dark robe over his shoulders to shield his body. Without looking at her, he tossed one to her. She’d been right. He had absolutely no sexual interest in her—even if he was an incubus.

“Put this on,” he commanded.

On the floor, Ursula struggled to pull the robe over her shoulders with her hands bound, resorting to using her damn teeth. Abrax flicked his wrists, and dark shadows curled from his fingers, wrapping themselves around her. Slowly, she felt the manacles behind her back weaken, until they crumbled away. Quickly, she wrapped the dark robe around her, still shivering.

“Follow me.” He crossed to a tall obsidian door.

Ursula flexed her fingers, then padded across the floor, her bare feet leaving wet footprints. She stepped outside into the frigid air, her heart sinking at the sight of the sharp, violet spire that jutted out of the center of the lunar crater.

Abrax led her through another black door into a hall. From a door opposite appeared a pair of oneiroi guards, their eyes blazing like starlight. Each held a sword.

“Kill her if she tries to use her fire,” said Abrax.

The two oneiroi closed in on her, swords drawn as she followed Abrax down a long hall. The manor looked like Bael’s, with a central hall ringed by balconies, but it was also different—darker, the windows smaller and narrower. While Abrax maintained a similar sparse aesthetic, he had decorated his manor with artwork and gems of silver, black, and purple. Lined by sleek, black doors, the hall ended with a balcony open to the lunar air, and icy winds whipped over Ursula’s skin.

Abrax turned to look at her.

“I must prepare the interrogation chamber.”

Ursula’s knees went weak. He’s going to torture me. “I won’t tell you anything.”

“And I’m not interested in what you have to say. For now.” He shot a glance at the oneiroi. “Put her with the other one.”

Abrax stepped to the edge of the balcony, and a crack sounded in the air as a pair of wings sprang from his back. With two mighty beats, he disappeared into the gloom above them.

One oneiroi drew a key from his pocket and carefully opened a narrow door, while the other gestured with his sword that she should enter. Shaking, she stepped inside. As she did, the first guard kicked her in the back, sending her sprawling across the floor.

Quickly she scrambled to her knees, but the door slammed behind her, and a key clicked in the lock. Ursula’s heart thudded in her chest, the blood rushing in her ears.

Swallowing hard, she looked around the room. A pale stream of pale light illuminated gray marble walls—and a silhouette. Ursula gazed up at the figure as he stepped into the light.

Kester.

“Ursula. Fancy meeting you here.”

Her lips curled in a grim smile. “Kester. I’ve been looking for you. Unfortunately, I guess I can’t count on you to save me.”

He shook his head. “No, Ursula. We’re in this together.”