“When did that happen?” Surai asked as she made her way over to Haven.
Haven lifted her bow and reached for an arrow. “Just now.”
Something, a flicker of movement, a noise, drew Haven’s focus to Stolas. There was a strange, almost bittersweet look in his face as he watched his wolf and hers clear the room. As if their pairing brought him both pleasure and pain.
Another movement drew her eye to a shadow rising behind Stolas.
And when she spied the golden mask, fear plunged straight into her heart.
40
Stolas had never seen any creature quite as beautiful as Haven’s familiar. She seemed to be made from frost and starlight and molten amber, her lupine eyes a mosaic of silver and gold. He could feel his wolf snarl in delight. His familiar had been restless since the moment it recognized its mate in Haven’s familiar.
Which meant there was no denying anymore who Haven was to him.
Not that he had doubted.
His injured wings gathered close to his body as he assessed his injuries. Most of his power had gone to shielding Haven, but he’d left a small reserve to erect the shield that protected him from the extent of the Netherfire’s wrath.
His powers had given out shortly afterward, his wings suffering the brunt of the damage. The pain was unfathomable, and he had stupidly let it blind him to the approaching Golemites until they were already upon him. He would never let himself live that down. Any other time, even without his powers, he would have wiped them from the face of the realm.
Instead, they’d managed to wound him. Some injuries were bone-deep and ragged where talons had carved into his flesh—but already he could feel the deep itch that meant his skin was mending. Without his wellspring of magick it would take longer, but he would heal.
In the meantime, he would make the Golemite bastards pay for his wings. One death for each perfect feather the fire singed.
It only seemed fair.
He lifted his gaze, prepared to take to the air and join his wolf, when he saw Haven—
Her panicked expression sent him whirling, but too late. A light prick settled in his left flank, just below his rib cage.
A jolt of icy-cold agony followed.
Archeron’s face resolved from the smoke, his teeth bared and eyes burning with pure malice. In his hands were two weapons: the glorious longsword of his mother and a small dagger.
By the pain surging through his body with every pulse of his heart, the dagger was tipped in some type of poison.
He was immune to most toxins in this realm, but this felt different.
Fighting against the wave of pain spreading through his body, Stolas stalked toward the Sun Sovereign. “Using poison? I would expect nothing less from a coward such as yourself.”
Archeron roared as he brought his sword down on Stolas.
Stolas slipped from the blade’s reach, dancing between Archeron’s strokes. Toying with him. If he had his choice, he would prolong Archeron’s death for days. Make him feel every agonizing sensation, every ounce of shame for what he’d done to Haven.
But, as lovely as that would be, they didn’t have the time for such pleasures. Snarling, Stolas slammed his fist into Archeron’s face, his knuckles connecting with the edge of the mask.
Archeron staggered.
A growl of pleasure ripped from Stolas’s chest as he hit him again. The feel of bone and metal shattering beneath his knuckles was so damn satisfying.
The mask split with a booming crack. Archeron’s dagger clattered across the floor and into the abyss. The Sun Sovereign stumbled back, clawing at the ruined mask, powers converging as he tried to meld it back together.
But it was destroyed beyond repair, and the jagged bits slipped through his fingers.
Now his monstrous face was on full display. One side flawless, so perfect it might have been carved by the Gods themselves. The other hideous and ruined.
Something about the contrast of beauty and horror was deeply unsettling.
Panting, Archeron lifted his free hand to map the disfigurement.
Any remaining light in the Sun Lord’s eyes faded. “You forced her into your bed.”
Like most Solis, Archeron misunderstood what it meant when a Shadow Familiar paired to another. The truth would enrage him. Stolas flashed a taunting grin. “If you believe Haven can be forced into anything then you don’t know her at all.”
“You are an animal, a barbaric monstrous creature. She would never be with you unless you hadn’t enthralled her somehow.”
“Enthralled?” Stolas asked, stepping closer. “Perhaps I simply accept her