32. Thirty-Two Maeve

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

THIRTY-TWO: MAEVE

S hadows slithered from the glinting eyes in Daigh's crown, flickering across his skin and darting through the crevices of his clothes. I winced as they burrowed under his fingernails and drilled into his ears. When he opened his mouth to speak, black tendrils whipped across his lips.

"You do not prostrate yourself before a new king?" he asked mockingly. "I thought you would wish for an accord between our worlds, in the same way you asked for a treaty between fae and humans? Surely, you would begin negotiations with deference to my position."

"What position?" I scoffed. "You can't just call yourself the King of the Underworld. You have to actually have a kingdom. In case you haven't noticed, yours emptied out to go and fuck up the world, and when they get back they won't be happy to learn you've killed their king. You're the king of empty halls and useless torture chambers."

"You did me a favour, dear daughter. You occupied the demons for time enough that I could come here and dispatch the one who stood in my way," he laughed. "And now here you are, delivered to me as my gift from the traitor Liah. It is too perfect. You will be my heir, my Princess. Your friend can be our grand vizier. What a beautiful court we'll have."

"I'd rather die," I shot back.

"You're dead already."

He had a point.

Daigh descended one step, his boot crunching against the skulls. He waved a hand in front of his face. Black tendrils shot from his fingers. I screamed and flinched away, covering my face as the tendrils circled me, sliding across my skin like blades before returning him. "Freshly dead, I see, but like your friend here, you're not on an official stay. Your presence here upsets the balance of things. You both still retain your souls. You have amulets that allow your return, but without a soul offered in exchange, you will never leave this place. So you may as well make yourselves comfortable."

Daigh swept his arm in a graceful arc. Something butted against my legs. I turned around, and saw two stools made from bones, each with a cushion of crushed purple velvet, waiting for me and Corbin.

I yelled and kicked the stool. Mistake. It would appear that even though I was technically dead, I could still stub my toe.

"Since I know you so love facts, daughter," Daigh drawled, fluttering his hand and making the stools slide after us as we backed away. "I will give you one before I take your souls so you will remain by my side. I did not kill the demon king, for there is no king to kill." He patted the crown on his head and smiled his cold, dark smile, and a rage such as I'd never felt before surged through my core.

I wanted Daigh to burn . I didn't just want him to die, I wanted to watch his face as he realised he was about to die, and I wanted to twist the knife into his head myself, feel his life draining from his body. I wanted him to suffer.

Daigh tossed his head back, his laugh booming through the cavernous space. He spread his arms wide, like a corruption of Christ's passion. "If you want to kill me, daughter, come. I accept your punishment."

I broke into a run, my boots clattering across the bridge. My hatred bubbled up inside me, flaring through my body with a magic that was stronger, sharper, and more real than any power I'd felt before. My veins lit up, my teeth clattered, and my eyes burned with rage and lust. My whole body flared with white-hot power. I had Daigh in my sights and I believed I would have my vengeance.

Hatred is just another side of love.

Arthur's words echoed through my head, followed by Kelly's sickened face as she begged me not to kill Daigh. Bile rose in my throat. I tried to push the sensation back down, but my stomach lurched, causing my magic to flicker.

No. I will not feel guilty for doing what is right. For everything I've lost, and for everything he's taken from the people I love. I will finish him.

I slammed into Daigh, knocking him back against the steps. He raised his hands and flung his dark tendrils around me. They tightened against my skin, burning and flaying my flesh. But the pain only fueled my fire.

I pressed my hand to his temple, and I let loose everything I had.