The Shadow King (17 page)

“One day, our teacher told us he had nothing left to teach us. But my hunger –
Wolf’s
hunger – for magic was too strong by that point, and Wolf’s fury was unstoppable. I say Wolf’s because… that’s who the fury truly belonged to. It had been ten years since the destruction of his people. He had little time left to exact justice. Humans simply did not live very long.” He shook his head, just a little, as if to himself. “Maybe this was what the warlock actually recognized in Wolf, this thirst for revenge. And maybe that was why he wanted to call off the lessons. We couldn’t help but wonder. And in wondering, Wolf came to a decision. He couldn’t allow his warlock instructor to turn on him. He couldn’t allow him to warn anyone of his intentions.”

His gaze hardened on the fire. And quite suddenly, the flames began dancing as if a cold wind were licking them into a frenzy.

“He killed him. And I killed him. It was all too easy.”

Violet’s blood went cold.

“It was the first time we’d ever killed without doing so for food or in self defense, but it wouldn’t be the last.” His voice had gone low, his tone distant and terrifying. “It was the day that Wolf officially died, and the world’s most notorious warlock was born.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Her mind reeled. It had been in this state so often of late, she was actually getting used to it. Discombobulation was becoming the norm. She felt like Alice after tumbling down the rabbit hole. What world was this that she’d found herself in? Where did she fit into it?

It’s my world
, her inner voice told her. It was stronger now, no longer the tiny, cowering thing in the shadows of her mind. It had regained its strength, and was reinforced by something else. It was something extra that she’d gained from Keeran.

When Lalura had told her to go with Keeran in the valley where the gargoyles had died, she’d realized something. But she’d been in too much pain and too much anger to really
accept
it. It was something had been something nagging her since she’d received the necklace from The Shadow King. It was something, perhaps, that had even been nagging her since she’d met him in the Underground.

When Lalura told her to go with him and he appeared right beside her like he had, Violet had fully realized, at that
very
moment, that the reason Keeran Pitch was so interested in her – was because she was his queen.

Violet was fully in the know about the kings and their fated queens and the important parts they all played in this chess game-like drama that had infiltrated the supernatural realms. She knew the queens were coming in from all sides, from every background, and seemingly without warning. She knew a queen could be anyone.

She just didn’t think it could be her. Maybe her sultry, gorgeous, powerful sister could be a queen. But not her.

At first, it was so impossible to accept, in fact, she filed the knowledge away as confusion. She took the truth and twisted it into emotion and other excuses, like a sentence that’s been scrambled to make other sentences. Rather than stop for a minute and try to figure it all out and come to grips with it, she’d simply denied it.

In denying it, she stumbled clumsily down other avenues: Maybe Pitch really was concerned about what she did just because it was his responsibility to make sure no one came to harm in his kingdom or in the Dark. Maybe he did this with everyone. (Not.) Maybe he just liked giving out acorn pendants! (Right.) Maybe he was just
so
rich, he couldn’t close his big, fat wallet! Yeah,
that
was it! (Well, maybe.)

But deep down, she knew her thoughts were as good as drunken ramblings and nothing more. The only one that could even
possibly
be true was that the Shadow King really did care about every single individual person who passed through his realm, but then if this
was
true, he would have gone after Dahlia long ago.

But no. It was all nonsense. She’d known.

By the time Lalura all but pointed it out, there was little point to denying it any further, but by then, Lovelace’s magic had Violet raging, and the fact that she was the destined Shadow Queen just didn’t jive. In any capacity.

Even if it’s true
, her anger screamed,
where is
my
choice in the matter?
And if she was supposed to be the fucking queen, then why keep secrets from her? Why not be honest with her? Include her in everything that was happening? After all, the queens were supposed to be more powerful than the kings! That was the whole reason it was so essential for the kings to find their goddamn mates these days,
right
? That’s why it was all happening so fast? The combined power of the Thirteen Queens was necessary to defeat the Entity? It had been prophesied! It was well known!

Right? Right?!
her fury had raged.

It all moved through Violet’s red-lined mind like a hurricane in the Painted Hills. She’d screamed at Keeran, desperately wanting him to just admit to her that she was the queen, and even more desperately needing him to take away her anger and fill her with reason again. There was only one way for that to happen, and that knowledge both thrilled her, filled her with hope and desire – and terrified her. Which made her even madder.

Fortunately for her, he’d known what to do.

Violet flushed warm at the thought of it. Sensations rippled over her skin, remembrances of his touch, hard and soft, of his wolf and the beast within him. She closed her eyes as that same warmth intensified and moved across her belly before sliding lower. She placed her hand on her leg and squeezed gently.
Oh gods
, she thought. She could almost still feel him inside of her.

So hard and hot. So tight.

She trapped her bottom lip between her teeth.
Violet! Enough! You need to concentrate on what is happening! On what this all means!

Out of ruthless desperation, she forced the images of the gargoyle children into her mind.

At once, her body washed cold again, and she opened her eyes.

Oh gods is right
. She was fortunate enough to not have known any gargoyles personally, but of course that changed nothing. The scope of this tragedy was immense. There had been families, children, mothers who adored them, fathers who were silently, puffy-chest proud of them. There had been hopes and dreams and memories. And it was all gone.

And there were twelve kings now. And there were still things about the Shadow King that she didn’t understand.

Like Wolfram Lovelace.
And how he died.

As if he knew instinctively that she needed more answers from him, Keeran glanced at her, met her gaze, and then gracefully stood. He approached the hearth of his study and braced his arms against the mantle to lean over the flames.

“Wolf returned to the valley where his family had been slaughtered and searched for clues that would lead him to their killers. He found them – and he killed them. But as the last of them died, Wolf learned from him that they’d only been following orders from others, higher up. So he tracked those Hunters as well. And on and on, he went, until he realized that like a spider’s web of insanity, Hunters had infiltrated nearly every aspect of humanity and poisoned the truth, labeling supernatural beings as demons all across the board.”

Violet was all too familiar with the Hunters who’d nearly brought the werewolf nation to extinction during the years they’d been cursed. And Keeran was right. It wasn’t only werewolves they hunted. They were like Nazi’s; everyone fell victim to them. Vampires were often their prey, as were magic users of all sorts. Shifters, naturally, had their fair share of grief to deal with from the Hunters, and even the fae had experienced a run-in or two. It was amazing how dangerous a mere human could be when fueled by weapons and what he thought was righteousness. In the wake of righteousness, goodness didn’t stand a chance.

“There was no end, and hence there was no justice. There was no release for Wolf from the pain of his loss, and time simply passed without mercy. With every warm body he turned cold in death, he became more lost to a kind of darkness not even I, his shadow, could comprehend. The more lost he became, the more viciously he sought out magic in the hopes that he would one day become powerful enough to end the madness once and for all.”

He stopped and lowered his head, closing his eyes. “Wolfram Lovelace was the name Wolf created for himself centuries later, when his dark magic had prolonged his life well past its natural course, and he’d begun traveling the world in search of more of it.”

So that’s when the name changed,
she thought.
And Wolf and Lovelace
officially
became separate beings.

The fire outlined his frame like a nimbus around a new moon.

Nimbus
, she thought suddenly.
That’s another thing.
She thought of that image she’d seen in the text that had told of the Nimbus riders and their dark leader.
The leader is Keeran, I just know it. It would make sense. He’s the king.

“Shadows and their mortals live a symbiotic relationship,” he continued. He lifted his head at that to look at her over his shoulder, and Violet was struck with a slightly glowing gaze that held her hard. “As you well know,” he added, referring to the research he knew she had done on his realm and on the Dark.

Violet shivered. That look was intense. It was all wolf. Whatever he might be now, the beast in him was far from dead.

Keeran released her from his gaze and looked back at the fire. “In time, I’d gained enough experience from his actions and through his magic that I also changed. Shadows normally live their own lives while their mortals sleep. However, I was different. I’d remained by Wolf’s side in the wake of the slaughter of his family, and then I’d remained with him as he had apprenticed as a warlock. I was with him for all of it. I don’t know why. Maybe I thought I owed him. Maybe I didn’t want to leave him alone. Maybe his pain was mine too.”

Violet felt her throat tighten.

“Eventually, there was so much warlock power surging through Lovelace’s form, it surged through mine as well. I wasn’t supposed to have the capacity to absorb it as I did. I was two-dimensional. I was a shadow and nothing more.” He shook his head as if in wonder. “But absorb it, I did.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Suddenly, Keeran rose, pushing off the mantle to face her completely. His eyes were no longer mirrored at all, now. As they had been in his bed, they were open to her, a deep gray circled in liquid metal. Mesmerizing.

“The more he continued to strive to hunt and kill, the more I realized he’d become the very monster he was bent on destroying. He had to be stopped. I don’t believe any shadow in history has ever thought this of their mortal. The bond is too strong, stronger than anything. But as I said… by this point, I had changed. There was nothing natural about our connection any longer. We’d become a new entity.”

Violet found herself leaning forward, held rapt by the deep, resonant sound of the Shadow King’s voice, caught on the edge of her seat by the story he was telling her,
sharing
with her.

“One night, I separated from Lovelace to flee the confines of his insanity and seek repast in the Shadow Realm. It was something I hadn’t done since before the wolves were killed. However, this time, as I parted the mortal I’d existed beside since birth, I took on instant solid form.” He shook his head with the wonder of it. Violet shared that wonder. Becoming solid was not something a shadow did. Ever.

“I became
real
. Not in the Shadow Realm, but in
his
realm, the
mortal
realm.” He looked up at her. “Here.”

When she could think of nothing to say to that, he ran a hand through his dark-as-night hair. “I took on solid form. No other shadow had ever done so. None has done so since. And none ever shall.”

“Because you’re the Shadow King.”

He smiled a small smile, and his eyes sparkled. “
That
was something that took me a while to learn, much less understand, and much,
much
less accept.” He looked at the floor for a moment, and a muscle twitched in his jaw. Violet had the sudden sensation he wanted to tell her something else, but was holding back on that one for some reason.

And then he said, “I, the shadow that had once been attached to Wolfram Lovelace, changed my name yet again, taking on a persona fitting for my station.”

“Keeran means ‘dark one’,” she said.

He looked up. Then he blinked, clearly a little surprised. “Yes,” he said. His expression became one of admiration. “I should have realized you would know that.”

“You really do think I’m some kind of book worm, don’t you?”

“No, I
know
you are.”

She laughed, and it felt good to break the tension. “There are a lot of things you don’t know about me.” But she still had that niggling feeling that he was keeping something from her again.
Maybe it’s just that he’s still afraid to tell me I’m his queen. Especially after everything else he just shared.