Blood of Two Crowns (Hallowed Fates #2)

Chapter 14

Chapter

Fourteen

MALEKAI

T he sound of distorted voices drew me from a sleep so deep not even dreams could enter. My body felt like an anchor sinking to the deepest trench of the sea. And it felt… good. Peaceful. In this darkness, without thought, only being, there was nothing to fear or fight. Finally.

Distant, angry voices trickled into my consciousness, further stirring my wakefulness. At the rough growl of Nakoa’s voice, memories returned, and reality settled in, giving way to some deep inner knowing that something had gone horribly wrong.

“Where is she?” I growled.

The silence I was met with had icy fear further spiking my veins. I turned to find Nakoa standing beside who I could only assume was his father. The male’s magic was inquisitive and gentle as it introduced itself to mine. It reminded me of the way of my kind. Introductions were made not merely with brief, verbal greetings but with scents and magical touches. His eyes held mine with a certain knowing that told me he knew what I was.

Nakoa’s words were a clipped growl as he explained to me what occurred during my lapse in consciousness. The male looked like he was barely restraining himself from tearing my head off. Not that I could blame him. I’d want to murder me too if I were in his shoes.

Though at the moment, we both recognized everything outside of getting Mareina back, had to take a back seat.

“She went willingly? With… Azrael?”

Nakoa’s features tighten with what I can only assume his guilt and shame. I huffed a mirthless laugh, shaking my head as I gave him my most disgusted look.

“I will never understand how you treat her so carelessly. Constantly throwing her in harm’s way. You have no idea what she’s been through. She needs to be… Protected for once in her fucking life.”

Nakoa looked as though he wished to tear my head off, and my anger burned so brightly that I fucking wished he would try. Instead, his guilt was belied by the slight hunching of his shoulders.

“I accept accountability for the error of my ways.”

His admission deflated much of my anger. My fingers found their way to Mareina’s gift, the little box of teeth in the interior pocket of my jacket as if it would soothe me. Relieved to find it still there, I willed it safely away.

“So, how do we get to Vassileo?”

Nakoa’s father’s expression, somehow, managed to turn even more grim. “There were once portals. A handful of them are located across Bellorum, but only one person can open them other than Azrael.”

I wasn’t surprised to hear Zurie’s name spill from Nakoa’s father’s lips. Dread sank low in my gut, like an anvil sinking to the bottom of a turbulent sea.

“Zurie? Why the fuck would Azrael—Nevermind. There has to be another way. Where’s Miroslav?”

“Probably with my mother.”

I flick my gaze to Rumiel. “Can you fold?”

“Only the gods and demiurges themselves, and their descendants, have that power.”

Gods and demiurges blood?

I’d never heard of or read such a thing… I had seen Zurie fold countless times.

Not that it fucking mattered now.

My magic began to seep out of me as my control slipped. Flames licked up my feet, legs, and hands, charring the rug beneath my feet as I chanted the orisha’s name.

“Miroslav… Miroslav. Miroslav. Miroslav. Miroslav. Miroslav. Miroslav. Miroslav.”

Thick, heavy silence weighed down on us as we waited, hearts pounding, for Miroslav to appear. Anything could be happening to Mareina right now. The idea had me ready to burst from my skin with panic. With ever-increasing volume and ferocity, my voice became an otherworldly roar.

“Miroslav. Miroslav. MIROSLAV. MIROSLAAAAV! MIRO-FUCKING-SLAV! ANSWER ME YOU CONNIVING, DUPLICITOUS FUCKING CUNT!”

Chest heaving, a wave of power washed over me like a tidal wave.

“I told you this timeline you have chosen wouldn’t end well.”

I spun to face the stoic, imperturbable bastard I’d beckoned with both anger and relief.

“Can you get us to Vassileo? Do you know how to open the portals?”

An almost imperceptible frown tilted his lips, something like resignation making his voice soft. My panic rose to new, throat-closing, chest-crushing heights.

“Zurie is your only hope.”