Page 62 of A Kingdom of Wild and Power
‘Not long now,’ Allegra added gently. ‘A month or two, at most.’
Mal bit the inside of her cheek, her thoughts churning. What if she ignored them? What if she descended into Hell regardless, consequences be damned? She needed Persephone gone, needed her erased from every realm.
But if she went now, and something happened to her child…
No. She could not risk that. She would wait. She would do this properly.
And yet dread coiled in her chest all the same. The creature—the God-Killer—was growing stronger. She could feel it, gnawing at her thoughts, poisoning them, hollowing her out from the inside.
What if, by the time her daughter drew her first breath, Mal Blackburn was already lost?
‘This is dangerous,’ Vera warned, folding her arms. ‘There is no telling what the kings of Hell might demand in return for trapping Persephone in their realm.’
Mal lifted one shoulder in a careless shrug. ‘Whatever price they name, I will pay it.’
Thanatos stiffened. His gaze sharpened, shadows pooling in his eyes.
‘We will do anything to be rid of her,’ Mal continued, her attention fixed squarely on him. ‘Won’t we, husband?’
Thanatos went utterly rigid, as though her words had struck something raw and exposed. And Mal, gods help her, savoured it. For once, he was the one caught off balance. For once, she held the reins.
She was weary of being outmanoeuvred. Weary of others standing two steps ahead while she was spoken to like a child who knew nothing of crowns or consequence. If she was to become the future queen of the Underworld, then she would no longer ask for permission. She would take command.
Mal’s lips curved slowly, deliberately, into a smile edged with cruelty.
‘I will do anything for my crown,’ she said softly, the words honed sharp enough to draw blood, sharp enough to rival glass.
The downfall of the kingdoms, in the end, will be due to their own blindness.
Tabitha Wysteria
Ash walked the halls of the keep in silence, his footsteps echoing softly as his mind drifted to another time, another life. He could almost see Hagan chasing him along drakonian corridors, laughter sharp and breathless, hands closing around his shoulders, fingers tugging playfully at his drakonian horns. The memory ached with warmth and regret. Ash wondered where Hagan was now, whether his thoughts ever strayed back to him as well. He wondered if there might come a day when they could sit together, unburden their pasts, and learn the slow, difficult art of forgiveness.
He paused beneath an archway that opened out onto the beach below, the sea restless and grey beneath the sky. Mal was gone again—vanished into her realm, as she so often did now, slipping further from the world he could touch. Queen Senka remained in her chambers, murmuring fractured words to herself, lost to whatever ghostsplagued her mind. And Morthos… Morthos was with his beasts, as always, finding solace where the rest of them could not.
Ash descended to the shore, boots sinking into the black sand as he came to a halt at the water’s edge. The sea writhed before him, dark and violent, waves gnashing against one another as if hungry. For a fleeting moment, he wondered whether anything would change if he stepped into it, if he let the cold drag him under and claimed him as its own. Probably not. Their paths had long since been written, whether by his own hand or by cruel, meddling gods. He was no longer certain which.
A small, weary smile touched his lips when Thanatos appeared some distance away, also gazing out at the restless waters.
They did not speak at first. Instead, they stood side by side in silence, watching the sea rage and breathe, two figures bound by threads far deeper than most could ever comprehend. The quiet between them was heavy, but not uncomfortable, an understanding that needed no words.
Eventually, Thanatos exhaled softly and moved closer, stopping a few feet from Ash’s side.
It struck Ash then how alike they looked, especially now that he wore black wyverian garments. The same sharp lines, the same shadowed gaze—two faces shaped from the same mould of darkness and light. To an unknowing eye, they could have been mistaken for twins.
‘You n-need to stop vi-visiting,’ Ash said at last, his attention fixed stubbornly on the churning water rather than on Death beside him. ‘Mal will find out, and she will not for-forgive us for this.’
‘We do what we must,’ Thanatos replied quietly, ‘to keep her and the child safe.’
Ash let out a dry snort. ‘Yes. Though one of us f-fights forthe child, whilst the other f-fights for her.’
Thanatos exhaled, something weary and old settling into his expression. ‘You are cursed to love her, Ash Acheron. But I loved her from the very beginning. No curse shaped my heart. No curse twisted it into place.’
Ash inclined his head slightly, still watching the sea tear itself apart.
‘I do not trust you,’ Thanatos continued. ‘But I will see this plan through. For Melinoe’s safety.’ His eyes flicked briefly towards Ash. ‘From you. And from the child.’
Ash’s mouth curved into a humourless smile. ‘Probably wise.’
