NINE

Kane

THE ROOM THE GUARDS escorted me to was small, barely livable — a bed and a desk. A clothing rack was strung up in the corner with three sets of ratty slavery outfits. The single window had been barred shut, with sunlight peaking through, casting rectangular beams of light on the stone floor. A stain of blood was smeared across the floor, leading from the door to the clothing rack.

Sleeping alone in the room the first night was dreadful. I kept snapping awake, thinking this was all a nightmare, and I was back home. But the sterile white walls met my gaze every time.

Mom. Dad. Vesper. Dios.

I wanted to be back home with them; away from all this stress and nightmare fuel. Yet, leaving Astaroth was off the table. He was my mate, and whether I wanted it or not, I had to accept him.

The two other maspets had been in the main hall of the Zoo, staring at me with wide eyes and whispering to each other. They seemed at ease while the guards marched me to my cell.

The entire night was spent in solitude, waiting for things to calm down. Then, I was a knock on the door awoke me. The maspets were standing outside, a woman that looked like a statue come to life, and a man with soft feathered ears the color of clouds.

“Hi, I’m Lily,” the woman said, holding out her hand to shake.

And that had been how I learned Astaroth took care of his maspets. Kindness, generosity, and loyalty to a fault. He protected them with his life and took the king’s abuse with a smile.

They forced me to stay with them. At first, I was neutral, but soon, I opened up to them.

It wasn’t long before guards came back and dragged me from the room in chains. They spoke in hushed tones, but I caught Astaroth’s name and Dante’s as well. The walk was brisk. Before I knew it, we had left the East Wing of the palace and crossed to the South Wing, where the royal chambers for each family member were. The guards shoved me against the wall with a blade to the throat as some other guards escorted a little boy with black dreadlocks cropped short above the ears, and magenta eyes toward the end of the hall.

When he was gone, the guards pulled me along, yanking at the chains. A set of violet doors decorated with a mural of the night sky entered view. A guard watching the door opened it. Without so much as an explanation of what was happening, I was shoved into the room, my mind reeling.

Standing in the center of the room with a rapier in hand was Astaroth, his posture rigid. He snapped his attention onto me, a malicious grin stretching at his lips until he looked like a monster. The chandelier above us glowed dimly, flickering as if the light bulbs were about to burst. As the lights grew brighter, a buzzing sound echoing around us, I noticed Astaroth’s eyes were entirely black and thick lines of black lightning spread from them.

Anton was off to the side, hands raised with lightning swirling around him, and Dante had backed toward the window. He shook his head, mouthing incoherent words while Astaroth stalked toward me.

His hand twitched at his side, the black flames sprouting and licking across the rapier. Raising the blade, Astaroth spoke in a tone unlike his own. The words were ancient, and heavy with a guttural undertone.

“Wolf, thou entered this castle unfavored by thy goddess. Now, thou shall perish with this blade driven through thine own heart.”

“Astaroth, what is going on?” I asked. Though perplexed by his sudden change in demeanor, I steadied myself. Something inside me told me to flee. This wasn’t my mate anymore. Those eyes were twisted and full of corruption.

The blade drew ever closer, to where I could feel the heat radiating off the blade. I had been around campfires and bonfires. Heck, even the wildfires that raged across the plains every firepeak never raged this hot. Sweat beaded like droplets on my skin, soaking through my shirt until sweat stains were visible.

I took a step forward. “Tell me your name.”

Astaroth’s smile grew bigger. “Thou knows my name. I certainly made quite the cloak out of a wolf’s silver fur.”

I froze. A wolf’s silver fur. Only one person was capable of such twisted darkness.

“Wolf Slayer,” I snarled, claws extending from my fingernails. Quick breaths puffed from my lips as I blinked away the red strands of spiderweb that clouded my vision.

That being was a monster driven by the simple pleasure of murder. The monster took away everything. He made my life a living nightmare while I wondered if I was responsible for Grandpops’ death. The image of his fresh, mutilated corpse sat in front of me, muscle glistening under the sun. Grandpops had been stuck in his wolf form. I could smell the metallic tang of blood coating the air, mixing with his lavender and berries scent.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a streak of lightning flash toward Wolf Slayer — Astaroth. That monster was inside my mate, controlling him like a puppet without strings. I twisted around the rapier only inches from my chest, and grabbed my mate’s shirt, throwing him to the ground, and waiting as the lightning crackled overhead.

Wolf Slayer sneered at me, as if my touch was the most vile thing in the world. We remained standing still, eyes locked onto one another until the electricity died.

“If you want to live,” I snarled, “don’t piss off Sparky.”

Dante rushed forward, motioning his hands in what appeared to be random gestures. A string of words in the unfamiliar language tumbled out of his mouth. He placed a hand on Astaroth’s forehead; the chant grew louder when a roaring rush of wind circled the room. Wolf Slayer’s chest arched as his head snapped backward. A hiss escaped his lips, white bubbles of froth forming at the corners of his mouth.

“Call his name,” Anton demanded. He stepped beside me, his lightning still buzzing. “You’re his mate; he’ll be drawn to you.”

Would he, though? Astaroth and I barely had any contact. He may have ordered me to be his maspet, but we barely even knew each other’s names. The bond that snaked its way into our souls was the only thing keeping us together. His scent. The sparks that trailed across our skin at the slightest touch.

“Astaroth,” I said.

Wolf Slayer locked his dark eyes onto me. “Thou shalt suffer endless torment under Goddess Kykla’s name,” he cursed, the foam sliding down his cheek.

Bunching a fistful of Astaroth’s shirt into the palm of my hand, I leaned in closer, unafraid of the flaming rapier still in his hand.

“Goddess Astia, protect my mate. Here my plea that this monster be yanked from him and the light restored,” I prayed to the only goddess that granted mates. She was our protector. All Lunas needed her guidance, and to rid my mate of this abomination, I would have to call upon her divine light.

A maniacal laughter choked out of Wolf Slayer, who rolled his head to the side. Ribbons of black tar oozed out of his mouth over the foam. “Try as thou might, little Astaroth has let me in once more. I shall enjoy taking him for a ride.”

My hands shook. This creature was diabolical. To even think of possessing a Luna was sacrilege. He twisted Astaroth’s image into something so obscene. A white-hot slipped over me like a heavy blanket. Screaming, I slammed my fist into the floor beside Astaroth’s head.

Crack.

Deep fractures split the floor while my hand shook, a thin pool of blood forming. Dante pulled his hand away from Wolf Slayer and continued chanting. I barely registered what I had done before yanking Astaroth forward and pressing our foreheads together.

“Astaroth! Wake up!” I cried. “I need you.”

The words slipped out of my mouth in a whisper. I didn’t even realize the words were true until Wolf Slayer shook, convulsing against me, and black tar spat out of Astaroth’s mouth.