Decade | | Azriel

15

The air was sucked out of Azriel's lungs when he stepped through the portal, and he was immensely grateful that he had stopped Quyn from coming in with him because he had no doubt that she would have dropped dead the moment she came in. He realized, at that emptiness in his lungs, that there was indeed a reason Kyla's soul and not her body was brought here. Her body would have died the upon entry with the lack of air. More horrifying, even, Azriel realized his body didn't miss the air when it left his lungs.

There was a terrifying stillness to this place.

Azriel finally reached an area that was active, though the shadowy figures ceased their activity upon his arrival. Every figure he passed dropped to their knees and bowed their heads.

Azriel approached one, standing tall and as assured as he could manage.

"Where is my mate?" he demanded coldly.

"She lies in the capital with our King," the shadow answered, "she slumbers peacefully as she awaits your arrival."

"Direct me to the capital," Azriel ordered, and the shadow flinched at his tone.

"Straight ahead, Majesty," it murmured softly.

He prowled through the shadow realm until he reached the capital. An obsidian palace loomed menacingly over the land.

Azriel almost halted to take in the palace, how truly massive and terrifying it was. He kept his stride though, because Kyla was in that palace waiting for him.

He made it there and walked right in, shadowy figures bowing to him as he passed. He found the King easily, and slumbering on a raised platform of that same dark stone was Kyla. She looked almost peaceful, as if she were truly just resting. She wore a silky black gown and the only sign that she wasn't just sleeping was the dagger in her stomach, twin to the one in her body at home.

"Hello, heir," the King greeted, his voice terrifyingly ancient.

"Can we skip to the part where I kill you?" Azriel replies dryly, not letting his fear show.

The King laughed, such a pained and weary sound. He appeared so young, no more than twenty, but everything about him felt old.

"It would bring me such joy if we did," the King replied, soft and tired—a male desperate for an end. "I do feel the need to apologize for this situation, though. My subject, or your subject I suppose, took my request to get you here in a rather unexpected direction. I didn't intend for your mate to be put through...that. I won't have the chance to apologize to her, so I hope you have it in your heart to express my deepest apologies to her."

"He made it sound as if you approved of his actions," Azriel commented, trying to gauge whether or not the King was being honest. It didn't matter whether or not it was true—Azriel would hold him responsible regardless of whether or not he approved of what the shadow did.

"I have no doubt that he believed that to be the truth," the King confessed, "there was a time I would have found his antics amusing—"

"His antics?" Azriel growled, eyes narrowed at the ancient King. "He tortured my mate. He did unspeakable things to her. Speak of it so dismissively again and I will cut your tongue out before I kill you."

The King chuckled again, raspy and low.

"If you offer your mate a crown and make her your Queen, she will live countless lifetimes with you and rule by your side. If she rejects your offer, she will live and die an average Fae lifespan and you will have to sit and watch it as you remain as you are for thousands upon thousands of years," the King told him, "and after those thousands and thousands of years have gone by, her torture will be long forgotten by you. So will her pretty green eyes and her lovely smile and everything else you love about her. And, I should warn you before you waste your time making the offer, it has been a very long time since the Shadow Realm had a Queen to bow to. Females, it seems, are much smarter than us because they know better than to accept the Crown's curse of eternity."