Between the Moon and Her Night (Between Life and Death #3)

Chapter 31

Von

A thick, black fog rolled in last night, resulting in a blanket of heavy dew come the next morning. Condensation gathered on the top lip of the window, forming lush, fat-bottomed droplets. They hung on until they could no longer. Bowing to gravity, they let go and hit the small ledge below with such force, they splattered back up on the window—giving the illusion it had been raining.

Had I not spent the last eight hours watching the fog roll in and the condensation gather, I would have thought it had. Why had I spent so much time watching something so monotonous, one might ask? Well, the first was because I rarely slept—I avoided it. The second was because my slumbering mate was lying on my arm, and like a pet owner with a cat nested in their lap, I did not have the heart to wake her.

Or to move, for that matter .

Plus, the feel of her plump little rear shoved against me was positively divine, although it did not aid in my wandering thoughts of all the different ways that I would enjoy waking her up. But considering how exhausted she had been after we’d broken in every inch of the throne room yesterday—I knew I should let her sleep.

Besides, there was something I needed to do. Alone.

Slowly, carefully, I pulled my arm out from underneath her, my shadows replacing my spot and curling up protectively behind her. I watched her for a moment, my gaze raking over the curvature of her slumbering feminine silhouette.

My lovely little female.

I eyed the fang marks I’d left on her breast, the sheet not quite pulled up enough to cover her. If there was one perk about her body taking a while to heal, that would be it—my markings lasted a pleasantly long time on her flesh. Mortal men liked to see rings on their spouses’ fingers, but not me, no. A ring could be removed. The meaning behind a ring changed over time—sometimes for better, sometimes for worse.

But my fingerprints etched into her ass? The meaning behind that never changed.

It meant that I hungered for her. Deeply.

I released a withheld breath of air, then clothed myself in a simple black tunic and leather pants. The bond was none too happy as I shadow walked away from the room, leaving my mate in her state of peace as I prepared for war.

My umbra swirled around me as I entered the subterranean lair, burrowed deep underneath the monumental temple my sister had built in her honor, all the way down in the Sixth Tier. A land void of light, dominated by dust storms and blazing heat. The inferno climate was courtesy of the fiery tier that sat beneath it. Because of it, nothing grew in these desolate lands—not even weeds. Despite the lack of vegetation and high temperatures, Saphira spent most of her time here. Sometimes she would attend the worships up above in the main part of the mountain-sized building, allowing those who celebrated her to feed her divinity with their praise, and other times, she slithered below, where she fed in other ways.

I strolled ahead, over the stretch of marble floor, ducking underneath the Moorish lanterns that hung from the low ceiling. Horseshoe-shaped windows with smoke-tinted glass allowed for glimpses inside the various chambers. All of them were filled with people, saddled up around tables of different shapes and sizes. Cards, dice, and coins occupied their black velvet-wrapped tops. In some rooms, gambling tables were not the only source of entertainment. Some were filled with husky moans and naked, writhing bodies, slick with sweat.

“Would you like a dab?” a naked brunette slurred as she stumbled up to me, her pupils gobbling up her irises. She raised her hand, showing me a monochromatic shell—or rather, the thick, grimy paste within it. Most of it was gone. “You can apply it anywhere you— hiccup —want, but I recommend here.” She pointed to her sex, a thatch of dark curls.

I didn’t show a speck of interest as I walked by her .

I was no stranger to what she was offering, but I had very little desire to live as I used to anymore. There was a point in my life where I was willing to try anything to pass the time, but now that I had my mate, I wanted to savor every second of it.

“Hello, handsome king,” purred a man who was on his hands and knees, swirls of gold paint slathered across his freckled skin. “Would you like a taste of me?” he asked, reaching for me as I passed by.

I let a shadow slip free, like a jungle cat on a loose leash, its jaws snapping at him.

He let out a scream and shot back on his ass, crab-walking up to the wall behind him. Drugs or not, since when had I become so approachable to the dead in this tier? It didn’t sit well with me.

I let my shadows scare off anyone else who tried to touch me as I continued forward, stopping only when the corridor expanded into a massive room that caved into a circular pit, rimmed with marbled stairs.

What was the pit full of?

Vipers. Hundreds of them. All focused on one task—mating.

In the middle of the giant snake orgy was a raised platform. On it, various offerings, chests, and sacks full of coins, jewelry, perfumes, fabrics, and other riches. They surrounded a green velvet lounger. Reclined on it with a silver goblet in one hand and a young viper coiled around the other was the pain in my ass herself—

Saphira.

Her sleek black hair was tugged harshly into a ponytail, the long strands tossed over her left shoulder. A band of leather wrapped tightly around her chest, matching the tiny skirt she wore. A man stood behind her, holding a platter full of grapes, while a female fanned her with a feather fan made from black ostrich feathers. They both wore a black leather collar that matched my sister’s outfit. Nothing else. Their gaunt bodies were full of black and blue splotches, bite marks, and cuts.

“Brother,” Saphira greeted flatly. Emerald eyes daggered into mine. A sneer formed on her bloodstained lips. “I see the mating bond was successful.”

“It was,” I said with a dirty grin as I slipped a hand into my pocket. “Folkoln brought us a bottle of spirits to celebrate.”

“Good for him.” She didn’t bother to hide her disinterest.

I pressed my brows together, feigning confusion. “I was surprised you didn’t show up with something to congratulate us.”

“And what would you have me give to you?”

“A basket or something.” I didn’t bother to hide my sarcasm.

“Is that why you have come, to hound me for not bringing you a mating gift?” Her hand jerked upwards, raising the goblet beside her head. “More blood!”

The male servant placed the silver tray full of grapes on a small table before he returned to her side. He raised his arm to his mouth, and with his blunt, mortal teeth, he bit into his flesh. He didn’t even wince—a testament to the strength of the drugs he was on. Lips stained with crimson, he lowered his arm over her goblet. He cupped his wrist, applying pressure as he wrung out his weeping veins—his expression as blank as if he were just squeezing out a cloth.

Arrogantly, I sucked my teeth, the corner of my mouth twisting upwards. “No, that’s not the reason I’ve come to this cesspool.”

The room became quiet. Even the snakes began to still.

“So then, why are you here?”

I leveled her gaze. “I’m going to make her my queen and I expect your full support.”

“Full support?” she cackled. The young snake slithered up her arm, winding itself loosely around her throat. “You gave the Immortal and Living Realms to one New God, and now you plan to give half of the Spirit Realm to another? You will never have my support for that.”

I scanned the room, finding a great deal of eyes on us. Watching. Waiting. Good. The more witnesses the better. Let them be reminded who their king was.

I let a ripple of my dark power pulse around us in warning. It was enough to send those who stood watching recoiling back.

“I am not asking, Saphira.”

Irritated, she gestured to the male to stop. He stepped back, his hand clamping around his bloody arm. She brought the goblet down, black lashes nearly kissing her cheeks as she peered at the innards of the cup. I knew my sister well enough to know that she was not interested in the contents, but rather, was deciding how to proceed. Saphira was a smart goddess, but she was also easily ruled by her own agenda and ego. This could go either way.

Lifting her head, her thick black brows arched as she asked, “And if I do not give you my support?”

“Then I see no reason for you to live in the Spirit Realm any longer.” My voice cut like a lethal blade.

“You would kick me out of my own home?” A flash of hurt raced across her face. “I have been with you since the beginning of our creation. I have been nothing but loyal to you.” She tossed her goblet to the side, the metal clattering against the marble floors, splattering it in red. Her servants jumped. “And you would toss me out just like that?”

I delivered my response slowly. “If you give me reason to, then I will.”

“How dare you!” she screamed, her voice echoing around us. Shadows swarmed around her and then she was standing before me, the black polish on her nails catching the dim firelight as she attempted to strike me.

I caught her wrist, felt her immortal bones groan beneath my crushing grip. “You have forgotten your place, sister.”

My winds picked up around us, hurtling into the sides of the temple, shaking dust from every crevice, making the mighty structure tremble. I looked behind her, sinking myself into the minds of the vipers—the creatures I had just as much of a hand in making as her. Although they were a product of Saphira and me, there was one thing I had over her—I was the king of this realm, not her. The sleek, black serpents turned towards us, their mouths stretched wide open as they hissed.

Not at me, but at her.

Even the one that was weaved around her neck had turned on her.

I lowered my face to hers, my tone threatening. “You would do best to remember it. ”

I let her arm go and she took a protective step back. Her eyes darted around the room, noticing how many more were fixed on her. She tore the snake from her throat, throwing it on the floor as if she had just been told her necklace was made of fool’s gold. Her lip curled in disgust, her expression like an open-faced book—one I could easily read—

I had deeply wounded her precious ego.

Reining in my winds, the temple stilled. I released my hold on the vipers and they went back to what they had been doing before, completely unfazed by what had just happened. Although, I could not say the same for my poor sister.

I strode past her, my shadows swallowing me whole as I left my parting words with her, “Consider this your last warning, Saphira.”

I hoped that that would be the last of it, although deep down . . . I had a feeling it wouldn’t be.