Chapter 16

Sixteen

A ric was in the dungeons beneath Drindal once more when he heard the thump.

He'd been squatting against the wall, struggling with trying to make sense of the power sigils that controlled his manacles. Why could he only seem to fight past them in dire circumstances, and not other times? Useless; he might have been better off leaving them alone.

He hadn't heard the other guards approach, but he'd smelled them—days' worth of sweat, demonsteel, and something else, sweet and fetid like old meat. The stench had wrapped around the back of his throat, clung to the insides of his nostrils. As much as he didn't want to give in and use the sigils' power, he wanted a sip of water, a cool cloth for his face even more.

A thump. And the sound of a body sliding down the bars that separated him from freedom. Well, freedom was a generous word, he mused, staring up at the deadbolt that held the door in place. Aric tensed, ready to spring up, but as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, they made out the unconscious form of his guard. Then General Vezera stepped forward, her scarred, ashen face twisting into a smirk.

"I've orders for you to meet with the prince, little mage," Vezera said, her voice like gravel. "Better make it quick, though, before this lug wakes up."

Aric felt like a candle burning at both ends as he loped through the streets of Drindal. The town was a strange mix of its usual self and the war that had torn through it—the markets empty, the steam rising from the hot springs, but there was an undercurrent of tension in the air, a sense of unease that lingered.

He was on high alert, every sense stretched taut as he scanned the crowd for any sign of danger. The guards were out in force, their demonsteel weapons glinting in the harsh light, and Aric couldn't help but flinch every time he caught sight of them. But it wasn't just the guards he had to worry about. There were humans here too, their faces drawn and weary from the long years of war. Any one of them could be a potential ally, or a threat, and Aric had to be constantly on his guard.

And then there was the gnawing ache in his chest, the raw and tender place where his feelings for Malekith had taken root. Aric tried to push it down, to focus on the task at hand, but it was no use. Every shadow that moved in the corner of his eye, every whisper on the wind, and he was back in Malekith's arms, feeling his soft, insistent touch.

Stop it , he scolded himself. He couldn't afford to be distracted, not now. His life, and the fate of both realms, hung in the balance, and he had to see this through.

Aric arrived at the predetermined meeting spot General Vezera had specified: a nondescript building near the edge of town. He kept to the shadows as he approached, the night air cool and damp, with the scent of smoke and blood lingering on the breeze from the recent battles. The town was under heavy patrol from the demon soldiers, but so far, there was no sign that his travel was being noted.

Aric crouched down and whispered the complex incantation, his words like honey and acid as they wove through the air. The wards guarding the building shuddered, then fell away, revealing the hidden door. With one last glance around, Aric slipped inside and descended the narrow staircase into darkness.

Aric's boots echoed on the stone steps as he descended deeper into the earth, the air growing colder and damper with each passing moment. He'd never known of this passage's existence, but it seemed the demons had a network of secret tunnels that stretched far beyond the town's boundaries. The walls were rough hewn stone, the floor a jumble of loose rocks and packed dirt, and the air was thick with the smell of damp earth and something older, more primal.

As he shifted into the dim light, he could make out the intricate runes carved into the walls, their meaning lost to time. The air itself seemed to hum with power, the ancient magic of the place seeping into his skin. He'd never felt anything quite like it, a raw and untamed energy that set his nerves on edge.

"Aric."

The voice echoed in the chamber, sending a shiver down his spine. He turned, and saw a shadow detaching itself from the wall, coalescing into a figure in the darkness. Malekith. His pale skin glowed in the low light, his dark eyes fixed on Aric with an intensity that made his heart race.

"Malekith."

"Why are we holding the final trial here, in Drindal?" Aric asked. "It seems an odd choice, given the circumstances."

Malekith's expression darkened. "It was not my decision. Sovereign Zaxos chose this location, but he did not see fit to share his reasons with me."

Aric frowned, turning the question over in his mind. "Perhaps he feels more certain of victory now."

"Perhaps," Malekith said, though he sounded unconvinced. "But some condition must have changed to give him that confidence. I can feel it in the air, a tension that was not present before."

Aric's thoughts raced. "It may have something to do with the magical anomaly that I overheard the guards talking about. The one that threatens both our realms."

Malekith's eyes widened, and he stepped closer to Aric, his voice dropping to a low hiss. "What did you hear?"

Aric quickly related what little he'd been able to piece together from the guards' conversation, about the strange disturbances in the demon realm, and the reports of similar events happening on the human side. "They said it was like a thread, stretching between the two realms, growing stronger by the day."

Malekith went very still, his face a mask of concentration. "I have heard whispers of this at court. The anomaly is a source of great concern to the demon high command, but they know little more than what you have told me. There are some who fear it may be connected to the human weapon we encountered at Brenville."

"I don't know," Aric said. "But if it is from the human weapon, it could be a game changer. Perhaps enough to force the demon high command to the negotiating table."

Malekith's hand tightened on Aric's arm, his claws pressing dangerously close to Aric's skin. "And what do you think? Do you believe it is possible for our two realms to make peace?"

Aric hesitated. It was a dangerous question, one that struck at the heart of everything he'd been taught. "I . . . I want to believe it is possible. But the hatred and fear on both sides run deep. I fear it may take more than a mere weapon to end the war."

Malekith was silent for a long moment, his gaze searching Aric's. "Perhaps," he said at last. "But I am willing to do whatever it takes to try."

Aric's heart ached at the sincerity in Malekith's voice, the raw vulnerability he heard there. For all his cunning and his masks, Malekith was still a demon, bound by duty and honor to his people. And yet he was willing to risk everything for the chance of peace, even his own life.

"I know," Aric said softly, reaching up to touch Malekith's face. "I know, my prince."

It was a wild and recklessthing, to care for the enemy, to let his heart be swayed by the demon prince's seductive promises. To risk so much for a connection, a bond that stretched between their worlds, defying all reason and sense. But as Malekith's arms came around him, drawing him close, Aric couldn't bring himself to regret it. For in Malekith's embrace, he felt a sense of belonging, of acceptance, that had always eluded him in his own world.

He tilted his face up, his lips seeking Malekith's in the darkness. The kiss was a promise, a vow of his own. Whatever the trials ahead might bring, he would face them with Malekith at his side.

Malekith's response was a low growl, a shiver of power that raced through Aric's veins. He tasted of shadows and starlight, a heady blend that went straight to Aric's head. He clung to Malekith, his body aching with a hunger that only Malekith could sate. They stumbled back, and Aric's hands fumbled at the fastenings of Malekith's robes, desperate to feel that smooth, pale skin beneath his touch.

"Aric," Malekith said, his voice a beacon in the darkness. "Aric, look at me."

Aric's hands were still shaking from the magical surge. He'd never experienced anything like it, the raw, untamed energy of the demon magic coursing through his veins. But as he turned to Malekith, he saw the concern in the demon prince's eyes, and he forced himself to take a deep breath, to steady himself.

"I know it was not what you were expecting," Malekith said, "but you did well. You showed the court and the sovereign that you have the strength and the skill to master the demon magic. The kind of power that can shift the balance of the war in our favor."

Aric's head was still spinning, his thoughts a jumble. "But at what cost? I nearly lost myself in the magic, in the hunger and the power of it. How can you ask me to use such a dangerous force to kill my own kind?"

Malekith reached out to take Aric's hands in his. His touch soothed Aric's frayed nerves, grounding him in the present. "I do not ask this of you lightly, my star. But it is the only way I see to end the war, to save both your realm and mine. If you can just make it through this final trial, then you will have regained Sovereign Zaxos's trust for both of us. And then we can learn more about this anomaly, and what it means for our two realms."

Malekith's words were a lifeline, a promise of hope in the darkness. Aric wanted to believe that it was possible, that he could find a way to end the war without sacrificing his own soul in the process. But the path ahead was still shrouded in shadow, and he feared what it might cost him.

"I will do my best to protect you, my star," Malekith said, his voice a soft caress. "But you must endure the torments of this final trial just a little bit longer. Will you do that for me? Will you trust that I will stand by your side, no matter what comes?"

"I will," Aric vowed.

He didn't know what else to say, what words could possibly convey the maelstrom of feelings inside him. The fear and uncertainty of their situation, the raw need for the connection he found in Malekith's arms. He didn't know where they stood, what the future held for them, but in that moment, it didn't matter. All that mattered was the press of Malekith's body against his, the heat of his skin, the hunger in his touch.

Malekith's answered by pushing Aric back against the stone wall, and Aric's head swam with a heady mix of fear and desire. Malekith's eyes were dark, almost feral, and Aric's head spun as Malekith's hands skimmed over his skin, tracing the lines of the sigils on Aric's back.

"Malekith." Aric's voice was a plea this time, a prayer he didn't know how to voice. Please don't stop. Please don't make me go back to a world where this isn't possible. Where we are enemies and nothing more.

But he didn't have to ask, because Malekith's hands were already moving with a single purpose, divesting Aric of his clothing. The cool air of the chamber made his skin prickle, but it was nothing compared to the heat in Malekith's eyes as he took in the sight of Aric's bared body.

"Beautiful," Malekith whispered, his breath hot against Aric's skin. "You are so beautiful, my star."

The words were a balm to Aric's soul, soothing the raw edges of his fear. He reached for Malekith, his hands fumbling with twitch Malekith's trouser lacings, and Malekith stilled to allow him to undress him. The layers of silk and velvet fell away, pooling at their feet, and Aric trembled at the sight of Malekith's bared flesh.

He was a study in contrasts, all sharp angles and smooth curves, hard muscle and soft skin. His body was marred with scars and sigils, testaments to a life of battle and pain, but to Aric, they only made him more beautiful, more real. He traced the lines of Malekith's tattoos with reverent fingers, and Malekith's breath shuddered in response.

"Aric," Malekith said, his voice a low, urgent rumble. "Please. I need . . ."

Aric's breath hitched as Malekith sank to his knees, his eyes never leaving Aric's. There was a raw, primal hunger in his face, and a hint of anger, too—anger at their circumstances, at the forces that conspired to keep them apart. But in that moment, Aric didn't care about any of that. He only knew that he needed Malekith, desperately, and the feeling was mutual.

Malekith's hands, cool and strong, slid up Aric's thighs, pushing his legs apart. Aric's heart was pounding in his ears, his skin tingling with anticipation as Malekith unfastened Aric's breeches. He felt the Malekith's breath against his groin, and then Malekith's tongue, slick and sinful, swiped a path up the length of his shaft. Aric's head fell back against the wall with a groan, his hands clutching at Malekith's shoulders for support.

Malekith took his time, his tongue tracing lazy patterns on Aric's sensitive skin, teasing him with light flicks and licks. His hands kneaded Aric's thighs, his claws pricking just hard enough to send sparks of pleasure-pain through Aric's body. Aric was panting now, his hips twitching involuntarily as he sought more friction, more contact.

But Malekith was in control, and he seemed determined to draw out the torture. His tongue swirled around the head of Aric's cock, teasing at the slit, before he took the tip into his mouth, sucking gently. Aric moaned, his hands tightening on Malekith's shoulders, his fingers digging into Malekith's flesh.

Then, with a low growl, Malekith took more of Aric into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks as he sucked. His tongue worked in tandem with his lips, sliding and stroking, driving Aric mad with pleasure. The heat of Malekith's breath seared him, the wet suction of his mouth surrounded him, and it was too much, and not enough, all at once.

He wanted to thrust his hips, to bury himself in that wet heat, but Malekith's hands held him firmly in place. Malekith set a relentless pace, his mouth working Aric's length with practiced skill. Aric's senses were overwhelmed—the feel of Malekith's mouth, the sound of his hungry growls, the scent of their arousal filling the chamber.

Aric's head thumped back against the wall, his eyes sliding closed as he surrendered to the sensations. He was dimly aware of the ancient runes glowing around them, the map of their realms illuminated with their passion. But all he could focus on was the feel of Malekith's mouth on him, the wet heat and the insistent pull of his lips and tongue.

Malekith's claws trailed up Aric's thighs, drawing beads of blood in their wake. Aric hissed at the sharp sting, his hips bucking involuntarily. Malekith's mouth tightened around him in response, sucking harder, his tongue working feverishly. Aric's control was unraveling, his body on the brink, and Malekith seemed to sense it.

Malekith cupped Aric's ass, pulling him closer, urging him on. Aric's breath caught in his throat as he felt the tip of Malekith's fang graze his skin, a promise of what was to come. Then Malekith's mouth was on him again, his tongue and teeth and lips working in perfect harmony to drive Aric over the edge.

Aric cried out as he came, his hips jerking uncontrollably as his release pulsed through him. Malekith swallowed around him, milking him dry with relentless efficiency. Aric slumped back, his body shaking, his heart pounding. He felt Malekith's hands slide up his thighs again, gentle now, as Malekith rose to his feet.

Aric saw the same raw hunger reflected in Malekith's gaze. His lips were swollen, his breath coming in short gasps. He reached out, his hand cupping Aric's cheek, and pulled him into a searing kiss. Aric tasted himself on Malekith's tongue, and it only served to stoke the flames of his desire.

But as their lips parted, the reality of their situation came crashing down on them once more. Malekith's hands tightened on Aric's shoulders, his eyes searching Aric's face as if memorizing every detail. "I wish we had more time," he growled, his voice thick with frustration and desire.

They clung to each other, their breathing ragged in the stillness of the chamber. The air shivered with the residual energy of their magic, casting an ethereal light upon their entwined forms. Aric's heart hammered in his chest, his skin still tingling from the intensity of their encounter. He knew he should pull away, steel himself for the trials ahead, but he couldn't break their embrace.

"This wasn't supposed to happen," Malekith murmured, his voice rough with emotion. "I never intended for you to become entangled in my web, Aric Solarian."

Aric lifted his head, his eyes searching Malekith's face. "And I never imagined I'd find myself here, in your arms. But fate works in mysterious ways, it seems."

A sad smile touched Malekith's lips. "Fate, or something far more treacherous. Our worlds are not meant to collide, and yet here we are, bound together by forces beyond our control."

Aric's thumb traced the sharp angle of Malekith's jaw, his gaze dropping to his lips. "I don't regret it. Not for a moment."

Malekith captured his hand, pressing a kiss to his palm. "Nor I. But it makes what comes next all the more difficult."

The weight of their shared burden settled between them, heavy and oppressive. Aric knew that Malekith's position was precarious, his plans to end the war hinging on Aric's success in the final trial. Failure meant not just their separation but also potential disaster for both their realms.

"I wish I could spare you this," Malekith continued, his eyes dark with worry. "The trials you must endure, the choices you will face...they will test you to your very core."

Aric's throat tightened at the raw vulnerability in Malekith's voice. "I know. But I'm not alone in this. You're with me, and together, we will find a way through."

Malekith's thumb brushed over the fine bones of Aric's wrist. "I will do everything in my power to protect you, but the final choice will be yours, and yours alone. It must be so."

Aric understood the power of those words. The final trial would test his loyalty, his commitment to the demon realm, and the choices he made would have far-reaching consequences. "I know," he said softly. "And I will make the choice that I believe is right, no matter the cost."

Their eyes met, and Aric saw the depth of Malekith's fear and longing. Malekith, so often a master of manipulation and control, was laid bare before him, his emotions raw and untamed. It was a side of Malekith that few ever witnessed, and it bound them together in a way that went beyond their physical connection.

"I fear for you, my star," Malekith confessed. "I fear what this trial may demand of you, and what it may cost us both."

Aric's heart twisted at the pain in Malekith's eyes. "I'm afraid, too. But we can't afford to give in to fear. We must have faith in each other, and in the path we've chosen."

Malekith's expression softened, and he leaned forward, his forehead resting against Aric's. "You have a gift for hope, Aric. Even in the darkest of times, you find a way to shine a light."

Aric closed his eyes, drawing strength from Malekith's touch. "And you, my prince, have a way of making me believe that anything is possible. Even peace between our worlds."

Their foreheads remained pressed together, their breath mingling.

"Aric," Malekith said, "I?—"

But their moment of peace was shattered by the blare of a distant horn, an urgent summons that sent a chill through Aric's veins. Malekith's face went ashen, his eyes flicking toward the door. "We've overstayed our welcome. You must return to your cell at once."

Aric's heart sank as he realized their time together was coming to an end, perhaps sooner than they'd anticipated. He nodded, understanding the urgency in Malekith's voice. As he turned to go, Malekith pulled him back, crushing him in a fierce embrace. Malekith's heart pounded against his own, the tension radiating from his body.

"Be careful, my star," Malekith whispered. "Listen for my voice, no matter what happens. Remember our bond."

Aric nodded, and his eyes lidded, committing every detail of this moment to memory—the feel of Malekith's arms around him, the scent of his skin, the sound of his ragged breath. "I will," he promised.

Malekith's fingers traced the sigil on Aric's back, the symbol of their magical connection. "This will be our safeguard. If all else fails, follow my voice, and it will guide you back to me."

Aric emerged from the secret passage, his mind reeling from everything that had transpired. As he made his way through Drindal, the town took on a new aspect. The crumbling buildings and war-torn streets spoke of a conflict that had raged for far too long. Yet now, Aric saw more than just the scars of battle. He saw the potential for healing, for a future where demons and humans could coexist. It was a fragile hope, but one he clung to fiercely.

A flicker of movement caught his eye. Aric turned, his senses suddenly on high alert. There, in the shadows between two dilapidated structures, a cloaked figure stood watching him. The hood obscured their features, but Aric felt the their stares like a physical touch.

His heart raced. Friend or foe? Ally or threat? In this precarious game of politics and power, it was impossible to know. Aric took a step toward the figure, his hand instinctively reaching for magic that wasn't there.

But before he could close the distance or call out, the figure melted into the shadows. One moment they were there, a solid presence radiating intent, and the next they were gone, leaving nothing but questions in their wake.