Find your next favorite book

Become a member today and read free for 30 days
The Shadows of Wrath: Damaged Goods, #1

The Shadows of Wrath: Damaged Goods, #1

Read preview

The Shadows of Wrath: Damaged Goods, #1

Length:
494 pages
7 hours
Publisher:
Released:
Feb 8, 2020
ISBN:
9781393077169
Format:
Book

Description

Supremacy, Immortality and Demonic Magic. 

Welcome to Terra, where a third of the Realm is owned by the sons of the God of Wrath, Forrest and Jason Carson. Journey alongside the brothers and learn their past as they struggle with the God of Death, his Hunters, and two unlikely companions: Lola Hart, the cyclone of Chaos, and Vitane Todd, a Human with a slim chance of survival. 

Tensions will rise to new heights and the Omne will be hurled into its greatest discord.

Publisher:
Released:
Feb 8, 2020
ISBN:
9781393077169
Format:
Book

About the author


Related to The Shadows of Wrath

Book Preview

The Shadows of Wrath - Stephanie Gagne

Copyright

Dedications

For my sister, Marie-Danielle: a toast to you and Magic.

-  SG

For my best friend, Jordan Allison: From the story, to animals, you continually helped to inspire new adventures and feats. I can’t thank you enough for always keeping the imagination alive within me. ♥

-  KM

Acknowledgements

Special thank you to: Clio Editing Services, Fantasy Name Generators, and Roleplaygateway. As well, thank you to our family and friends for their wonderful and continuous support.

Terra West

Terra East

Preface

The creation of all existence began with energy. The disorder of Chaos and the stability of Order lingered in the universe, until the opposing forces collided in balance and asymmetry, forming an astronomical phenomenon.

The Omne.

Awakening from a dreamless slumber, Cixlios the Archangel found himself in the Realm of Aurae with no recollection of his origins. Sitting amongst thick clouds, the wastelands of this pure world ignited his passion for ethereal beauty.

With an intense and indescribable desire to create, he scooped his hands to hold the fluffy matter, then tossed it overhead and all around him. The balls of clouds erupted into architectural masterpieces of his imagination—castles, glistening waterfalls, and glittery light.

An impeccable utopia.

For decades he wandered his Realm of orderly perfection until solitude became overbearing.

Cixlios had grown tired of the exquisite dimension. He needed something to contradict his flawless creation, but he couldn’t do it here. He closed his eyes, and in an instant, he awakened among fiery rubble. Infernum—badlands with an ever-so-sinister vibe. He felt tainted and angry. Out of madness and wrath, he gouged the gravel and whipped it within the world. Wild structures of broken fortresses, spiked pits, and suffocating malevolence formed in the image of his imagination.

An immaculate dystopia.

Having observed the crazed Archangel from the shadows of this corrupted Realm, Valentina the Demon emerged from the darkness. Gorgeous yet dauntingly hideous, Cixlios didn’t know how to perceive her.

She commanded him to leave, saying he didn’t belong in her world. His wings were turning black and this chaos was not his to own. Her voice was lustful—nothing would ever compare to her opulent tune—upon hearing it, the Archangel was captivated. The thought of separating from this stranger felt peculiarly torturous and as such, he begged her to accompany him to Aurae.

To Valentina, Infernum was utopia. Could something more impeccable exist? Equally intrigued by this wretched yet divine being, she accepted his offer. Within seconds upon their arrival, she was disgusted. What kind of paradise was this? Where was the lava and the stench?

Longing to impress her, the Archangel offered to form a new Realm—one they could both love.

But Cixlios became hesitant; three worlds for two creatures sounded hollow.

For Valentina the answer was simple: this Omne just needed a little more life. Before his eyes, the Demon waved her hands and a magical red aura danced between her palms. She wiggled her fingers then poof! An emerald butterfly was spawned. With her promise to populate a new dimension, Cixlios created Naturae. As the Archangel constructed this Realm, a fervency grew. The Demon was in awe of his imagination.

They fell in love.

In a night of ecstasy, from the glittery waterfalls of Aurae, the gravel of Infernum, and a tree root of Naturae, Dahlia, the Goddess of Life, was born—a quirky Fairy.

Eternal life had a way of taunting the mind. Their love was orderly chaos. Some days the couple loathed one another, and other days they praised each other’s songs. From blissful days to mournful nights, with melancholy beckoning them to end this Immortality, Valentina and Cixlios made love in the name of sorrow. From the stars of Aurae, the broken structures of Infernum, and their tears of anguish, Violet, the Goddess of Death, was born—the first Fallen Angel.

Within days of her birth, the Fallen fell ill—the flourishing dimension was unfit for the dark princess. Mournful over the thought of losing his grim angel, Cixlios formed the Realm of Tenebris to preserve her life.

But Valentina refused to leave the luscious Realm of Naturae or her firstborn. As such, the Archangel raised Violet, and the Demon, Dahlia.

Decades of separation lapsed and the lovers grew longing. Ceasing her stubbornness, Valentina begrudgingly came to Tenebris with their Fairy daughter.

Order, chaos, love, hate. Arguments developed into appetite. From the clouds of Aurae and the lava of Infernum, the twins were conceived—the divine Angel known as Dazielle, the Goddess of Holiness, and the wretched Demon known as Mazek, the God of Sin.

The Realm of Tenebris was unwelcoming of the new lives. The babies were still-born. Anguished and desperate, Valentina and Cixlios acted expeditiously to save their newborns. Forced to separate, the Archangel took Dazielle to Aurae and the Demon took Mazek to Infernum. Dahlia, out of her own interest and relief, returned to Naturae. Violet was deserted in Tenebris.

More decades passed.

Bored in his utopia and yearning to be united with his soulmate, Cixlios craved the invention of a new Realm. His mind whirred with curiosity and wonderment as he created a mystical world—Cantata.

The Archangel called upon Valentina to join him in the Enchanted Realm. In adoration of the world he had created, she declared that a place this miraculous deserved a bewitching tenant.

Blissful euphoria.

From the glittery dust of a Fairy, the black tear of a Fallen Angel, the horn of a Demon, and the white feather of an Angel, Voyus, the God of Magic, was born.

The couple raised their Wizard son together.

But as the time passed, Valentina became upset that her other children could not accompany them. These Realms were limiting. In agreement with her frustration, Cixlios offered a solution—a Realm that could sustain them all.

With the trees of Naturae, the moon of Tenebris, the clouds of Aurae, the rocks of Infernum, and the seas of Cantata, the Realm of Terra was formed.

In the center of the new world, Cixlios summoned his children. This Realm was not magical—it was simple, a world that connected all the Realms—a dimension where they could reunite.

But Cixlios had another concern. He and Valentina were polar opposites, always falling together and apart. No Realm could ever secure their bond. Confiding in his lover, the Demon fabricated an unbreakable vow—universally known as Valentina’s Vow. Sealed with Magic, should they ever separate, an unimaginable burden would drown them.

Together they were inexplicably powerful. With fervor, Cixlios formed a total of eighteen Realms, excluding Ordos and Chaos. Valentina created every species known to the universe.

They loved each other, their children, and this Omne.

But one child found their creations atrocious and this universe monotonous. Calling upon the forces of Order and Chaos, in a night of absolute madness, the God of Sin Obliterated his parents. Two bright stars formed that day, the first of their kind to illuminate the dark purple sky of Tenebris.

Mazek arose as the God of Evil.

Upon their murder, the children isolated themselves within their Realms. Over time, the Omne’s population naturally expanded. Species were confined to separate worlds, with Terra as the only link between them all.

As new Gods appeared, the siblings grew worrisome over their influences. They came together to defend their ideals, their thrones, and their vision for their Omne.

With their powers harnessed as one, with the tree root from the palm of Dahlia, a skeleton key from the bone of Violet, a feather from the wing of Dazielle, a severed horn from the scalp of Mazek, and a magical wand from the soul of Voyus, the siblings formed the Realm of the Iudices.

This was the judgement world where they would keep Gods at bay and control the fate of the Omne.

But destiny is fickle.

Mortals and Immortals are incessantly driven by essences of unseen forces—authorities that alter the rational alignments for all—creating the harmony of discipline and anarchy.

Chapter 1

Terra Date: September 14, 2072; 17:36

Orderly objective or chaotic coincidence—to what extent are we in control of our fate?

Lifeless eyelids trembled weakly against the blinding rays of sunlight that poured through the crisscrossed wired windows of the van doors. The captive Human dared not open her eyes. Vitane had been kidnapped and thrown into the vehicle some time ago and had absolutely no recollection of where she had been or how much time had passed since she had been stolen away. Her memories were foggy. Was this the result of being pricked with an Oblitus thorn? She had trouble recalling where she had been at the time of her abduction. She groaned in distaste, holding up her slender arm to hide at least her eyes from the unrelenting ball of light.

The vehicle came to a stop. The van doors flung open and the Human was tugged forcefully out of her sitting position. In an instant, she hit the asphalt hard. Her eyes tightened, yielding the only agony she felt from the sudden drop. She was picked up swiftly and her legs could barely hold her. She still felt weak from whatever drug or potion they had given her. She wiggled some on her unstable limbs as she managed to finally grow accustomed to the shining daylight. Two built Supernatural men in matching uniforms—a Werewolf and a Lacerta, a type of Aquaric Lizard—held either arm and guided her towards an unimaginably huge manor. Her eyes widened at the mass of the exterior. It was an architectural masterpiece made with dark grey stones. They crossed a drawbridge over a moat that seemed to extend around the entirety of the property. Behind them was a rising metal gate with spikes that were buried in the ground.

Where in Terra am I? she questioned aloud as she examined the gate with worried curiosity. The guard to her left tugged on her arm as if signalling her to not ask questions.

Watch who you’re jerking around! Her voice rose and her slim brows lowered angrily. She attempted to break the hold on her left forearm, but she was weak in comparison to these Supernaturals.

The Werewolf on her right came close to her ear. Please don’t make this any harder than it needs to be, miss.

Thereafter, the pair became silent and continued towards the fortress. Vitane rolled her eyes but decided to comply. She was too frail to fight back, and she couldn’t manage enough energy to run. But out here, there was nowhere to run, and at the end of the day, she figured this was the fate she had always deserved.

Her memories were becoming clearer. She’d barely tried to fight back when the bag had gone over her head, but with measly Human genetics, she didn’t stand a chance against any Supernatural.

Vitane swallowed any existing moisture from her now-dry mouth as they led her into the foyer. Three giant gothic chandeliers hung low from a very high ceiling that was at least fifty feet overhead. She could almost reach up and touch the centerpieces of the room, but she was carried away from them. The walls were covered in exotic, expensive-looking paintings. Two black flags hung side by side, taking up the majority of the back wall—one with a red scorpion sigil stamped in the center and the other with a grey Kitsune skull.

Were there Immortals here?

She was guided to an archway to the right into a small living room. It had a fireplace covering almost the entire wall. It would need full tree trunks to fill its space. There was a single chair in front of it. From where she stood, it was hard to tell if there was someone sitting in it or not.

The room across from the one she left housed shelves that reached the high ceiling and expanded along either side of the wall. One of the men closed the door behind them silently—as not to disturb anyone, she assumed. She took in the incredible grandfather clock and sitting area lavished with leather seats and couches and a glass table with detailed engravings.

This way, the Lacerta gruffed, pulling her along again. They headed to a winding staircase that went...down? How much ground did this place cover? Miles? It was hard to tell how far back it went from just the front door.

It began to grow much darker as the group descended the spiralling steps. The stench of sewer and the scurrying of rats were the first thing the Human identified. It took a lot for her to get scared, but she was getting creeped out as she began to realize where she was. After travelling down a hallway, Vitane found herself in a legitimate dungeon with iron crisscrossed bars and cold stone floors. She found this odd, however—technology was lacking throughout the home, and it seemed old-fashioned. Dungeons and gates were common facets in Immortuos, to confine Vampires, or in Silva, where Dark Elves were oppressively imprisoned.

She was led past an occupied cell where a woman with bright red hair hung upside down from the bars, and Vitane stifled a chuckle. They stopped at the next cage door. Hay littered the ground, and a wooden bench with a stained pillow seemed to be the only place that looked decent enough to touch.

What is this? she huffed in an annoyed voice.

The Lacerta laughed evilly and the Werewolf almost looked sad for her. I’m sorry, miss. This is where you will be staying until the Masters retrieve you. You will meet the Masters on your own time.

"You mean their own time." The other guard guffawed, and the first guard hit him across the head.

"At least try to be a little sympathetic, Lizard!" the guard yelled in a hushed whisper.

"What are you people even talking about? What is this? Why am I here anyway and who in Divine Dazielle are these ‘Masters’ you Goblins can’t stop obsessing over?"

The Werewolf opened his mouth to speak but stopped when he received a silent stare from the Lacerta. I’m sorry, ma’am, he apologized, appearing to be sincere. He unlatched the door with an oversized iron key and lightly nudged her to go inside, then closed and locked the door behind her. They both left in a hurry and shut the door behind them. Another large clunk confirmed that they locked that door too.

Vitane groaned and turned around on the ball of her foot to face the opposing wall of the small structure she was now held in. She went to the rock wall in the back and knocked on it. It was too thick to dig through, even if she had the best tools. Despite the lack of technology, this place was reinforced.

Brilliant, she muttered, slumping down, causing her black rose locket to dangle. She leaned her head against the bench-like bed and realized she could see into the cell next to hers. It had the same crisscross metal as the door did, but the space between the bars was a little wider, so nearly a whole hand could go through with spread fingers. She sighed and clenched her jaw to keep it from quivering. She wasn’t about to lose it now.

...

The blood was rushing to her head, but Lola didn’t mind the faintness that accompanied it. The freckled redhead had been hanging upside down with her petite legs hooked through the jail bars for quite some time now, bored and groggy. She combed her fingers through her luscious hair and grimaced at the coarse texture. Oh, how she longed to shower and sleep.

The voices inside her head were particularly irritable today over her imbecility. Overlapping one another, they scolded the redhead for having been kidnapped. In an effort to tune them out, she hummed over their criticisms.

It had been hours since two uniformed guards had dragged her into this wretched place. To her, the stench was refreshingly nauseating. Beyond these lifeless stone walls, she had no idea where she actually was. She had been knocked out after several minutes of physical violence, attempted hexes, and insults.

How dare these ostensibly Ordoic Krakens treat her with such insolence? It had been wonderfully aggressive.

One of the guards had stifled a laugh at her manic attempts but had emphasized caution to his comrade. If the rumors were true, then this capture would bring them a world of fortune. Their Master would be elated. She cursed at her narcolepsy—the lack of sleep from her night of partying impeded her ability to turn them into toads.

The men involved in her kidnapping hadn’t been threatening at first, more so insistent on her cooperation. How dull! Of course, she’d refused. As a result, they had taken her by force and seized her possessions, which was rather intriguing. Their boss was a man of power, no doubt—one who refused to take no for an answer. Perhaps he was a Demon? How delightful! He was obviously desperate to meet her. But she had a busy schedule. Couldn’t this wait until next week? She had more pressing priorities than entertaining some Kraken. They’d never mentioned a name, and the car ride had felt long. She was most certainly on the outskirts of the city of Domum of the Realm of Terra to the west in the city of Eskye. She knew all the residents—most of whom were Immortals—had she unintentionally insulted one while inebriated to end up in such a predicament? Had she turned one into a Gubydal, or had they been enchanted by her Allure? Unfortunately, with her hyper chaotic tendencies, remembering such an altercation was unlikely.

Lola never disappeared without reason these days, and this many hours off the radar was concerning. She needed to get home. Her best friend, Tien Amara, would certainly be frantic. Physically, she was in a fragile state in her life, and for the last few years, he had been exceedingly tenacious—with the exception of the last few days. He was on a business trip but still checked in every so often. Surely at this hour, she had already missed his call to her via holoband.

Thirty minutes. Unproductive conversations between the various voices inside her head continued, and Lola nearly fell into unconsciousness from hanging upside down—her brown eyes growing evermore drowsy. She was becoming antsy and sang out loud with her melodious voice. Perhaps it would serve as a reminder, since someone had clearly forgotten her here.

From above, she heard creaking and became silent and stiff. Footsteps stomped in synchronization down the staircase—the Ordoic simultaneity made her groan. She swung herself up and sat on the bars, watching carefully as a thin girl was led past her. She analyzed the trio curiously, listening intently to their exchange of words, and giggled when the woman spat in hysteria.

The guards shuffled back up the steps, and Lola shrugged uncaringly then dropped upside down again and resumed humming. She had no interest in conversing with the being who now shared her fate.

...

Vitane slammed her fist against the stone wall. What did these people want with her? With them? She brushed her blue hair back behind her ear, her fingers grazing her many piercings. She was vulnerable here, stuck in a cage. She hated it. In frustration, she snatched a familiar box from her right pocket. Inside it was a blue lighter and seven sticks of Terrian Tobacco. This was the only thing the guards had allowed her to keep. She analyzed the amount and sighed; this many would be gone by tonight. She huffed and grabbed a slender roll of Terrian Tobacco, placing it between her lips and igniting it.

The redhead blew on her lips in exasperation. Her cerebral companions now berated her for being captured alongside a Human—her voice of rage led the riot and insults. How weak of her to end up here. Lola groaned again and gently thumped her head repeatedly against the cell bars. Can we talk about something else? she moaned.

Um... Vitane cocked her head as she stuffed the box back into her pocket and took a long drag from the stick. I wasn’t talking?

"No matter how many times my companions repeat it, I know. I should have stayed with Voyus, but I got distracted. I had been mesmerized by the colors of the Terrian sunrise. The hues reminded me of Chaos, and I grew longing! In my intoxicated state, I hadn’t realized how far I had wandered. Do you think if I had enough bow ties, I could adequately entertain a crowd of grasshoppers for the purpose of determining the size of an average apple?"

Alrighty then, she muttered and shook her head. Not only was she now a prisoner, but her adjacent cellmate was a loon. Though she didn’t anticipate a sensible response, Vitane asked, How long have you been in here?

Based on my sobriety, the redhead started, clicking her tongue several times, and the ripple effect a swarm of Orcs would cause in Naturae over a pair of shoelaces...hours. I assume.

Although the redhead had answered her inquiry, Vitane was left with even more questions. What did Orcs or shoelaces have to do with anything? Had she seen their captors yet? And did she have access to more drugs? But the Human refrained from asking any, as she would likely receive more gibberish and a vague or partial answer.

I wonder if we’ll be slaves, Lola thought out loud, then chortled. Slaves to Demons, she said in a tone filled with awe. Gods, if only I had mastered my Tolerantia potion before having been captured. Being Human is bloody wretched—such a weak and useless class of species. I long for the days of Coralyn’s fiery whips, Dragik’s teeth sinking into my skin, and Syxx’s grip suffocating me.

"W-what?! Why in Terra would you want that for yourself?!"

Torment is exhilarating!

I guess it’s all a matter of perspective, she laughed, stupefied by this woman’s curious nature, yet intrigued by her peculiarity. My name is Vitane, what’s yours?

"Veh-tawn-e, Lola sounded out. You have an uncommon name that is somehow familiar to me, she stated. Then again, maybe a pig facing a mirror would eat itself. She blew on her lips for a few seconds, then said, Depends who you ask: Chaos, Lola, Lorelei, Red, Lo, Schizo, Psycho, Darling. Whatever you feel suits me best. Chaos and Lola are the most popular on the list."

Vitane inwardly chuckled at the admission of two of her nicknames. They seemed appropriate but also could have been deemed insults. Hmm. She played with the ends of her hair, interlacing her fingers between the strands. Lola is a lovely name.

If you think so. It’s just an alias I created during Ordoic torture. Say, do you think they’ll drain us of our blood and sell it for profit? Lola segued. Or use it for Alchemy? Gods. As much as I hate this skin, being the one percent of the Omne’s population sure is thrilling!

Divine Dazielle, if you say so, Vitane groaned and moved her hands to hold her head. This is my third time being confined this year, but it’s never happened in Eskye before. I’m rarely on the rich side of this island, so getting away should be interesting this time around.

The redhead chortled, but her laugh abruptly ceased upon the door creaking again. Both women looked now to the entryway in anticipation. Concurrently, their hearts pulsed and sweat formed within their palms, but no amount of readiness could prepare them for the Carson brothers.

Chapter 2

Terra Date: September 14, 2072; 18:15

A long, drawn-out sigh escaped from a once-pursed set of lips. Forrest rested his cheek in his hand, a single finger tapping against his chin, while the other held open the newspaper from Domum. He was sitting in the lone leather chair in the center of the living room, facing the colossal fireplace. Underneath the chair was a Manticore rug.

Arsonist Strikes Again, the headline read. Forrest skimmed the article, reading about the damage and lives lost. No matter how many times he tried to keep Jason out of trouble, his brother always found another way to wreak havoc. He grunted discontentedly and flung the newspaper at the fire, igniting it in a bright blaze. He encouraged good behaviour for the simple fact that he liked Eskye and didn’t want to see it in ashes like Cinere city. He didn’t mind the destruction; he was a Demon, after all, and he could never shed his enjoyment of the sound of screams. But moving was a pain, and the eldest brother was picky.

The doors of the foyer echoed off the barren walls as Forrest busily glided his skull ring up and down his finger, his thoughts solely on the images from the newspaper. Homes submerged in blazing flames. He sighed again, across the room, he recognized the library door opening. So, another Human had been obtained.

The first had arrived earlier in the afternoon, so he could easily assume that Jason had sought after a Human as well. He hadn’t expected the arrival of his brother, but his new guest was warning enough that the Kitsune was on his way.

...

Jason wandered through the mansion with his hands shoved into the pockets of his leather jacket, a stick of Terrian Tobacco burning in the corner of his mouth. His sharp fox fangs protruded over his lower lip, their gentle curve dissimilar from the straight and pointed fangs of a Vampire. He huffed small clouds of smoke with every breath. The Kitsune had just returned home from a three-day excursion in Oscait of Terra. He had competed in a Kitsune’s Dolo tournament that had won him a hefty sum, but the absence of manslaughter had made the trip dull overall. Everyone had been cooperative and fair. What a bore. To make up for the lack of bloodshed, he had made a pit stop along his journey home to a small worthless village, in Avia of Terra—its name unworthy of his recollection. He had burned it to the ground and made headlines as usual. Among many things, he was famous for arson—it was a guilty pleasure.

The slender Kitsune-Demon ran his fingers through his onyx, crew style haircut then conjured a ball of flame and casually tossed it up and down in his palm. If it hadn’t been for the arrival of the Human, he would have travelled with his best mate, Eli Kingsley, to Algar of Terra for an overnight rave. Jason loved to party. Alongside gambling and racing, it was one of his life’s greatest pleasures. His wealth could purchase him anything he desired—girls, drugs, booze, and an array of entertainment that kept his pensive mind occupied.

But apart from the melancholy, something else fueled him—rage. Anger was in his genetics, and his sinful pleasures had resulted in an abundance of indictments. He was a wanted man in various Realms—no amount of money or manipulation could get all the charges against him dropped. To his good fortune, however, the Goddess of Order had presented him with a compromise during his trial in the Realm of Ordos. He had found her offer strange, especially considering his rampage against her residents—the Kitsune had done it for the sole purpose of winning a bet. His close friend, Ian McKinley, had taunted him to do it in exchange for some rare Chaotic Coins. Jason had been in Ordos for less than five minutes before he was arrested. Such actions would typically result in Ordoic correction, but the Goddess of Order had offered him immunity if he kept a certain Human entertained. She had been vague on the details, but Jason didn’t care, he would do anything to evade Ordoic punishment.

The Kitsune sauntered into the quaint living room, where the sight of a burning newspaper caught his attention. Extinguishing his ball of Flames, he passed the wingback chair and hopped up on the fireplace mantel. He plucked the bit of Terrian Tobacco from his mouth and flicked it into the fire. Hey, Demon, Jason greeted Forrest, his smoky voice had a hint of a Silvan accent. It’s been a while.

Indeed it has. I see you found a Human acquaintance as well.

Urgh, Jason grumbled. Not by choice, Demon, I can assure you that.

Stop calling me that, Forrest interrupted.

Ignoring his banter, Jason went on, You know how I feel about Humans—they’re the Dark Elves of Terra. It’s a punishment. I, uh—he brushed a hand nervously through his hair— I may have raided Ordos. Well, I wouldn’t call it that exactly—more like walked in and set a few homes ablaze. Wasn’t long before they arrested me. The Goddess was strangely merciful and offered me a choice. Either face Ordoic Discipline—again—or entertain and watch over a certain Human she’s...interested in? Allied with? I don’t know. Whichever. It’s better than Ordoic correction.

Forrest grunted as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Order had some sort of deeper purpose for her decision. Her attitude towards Jason and her leniency led him to believe that this Human was greatly important. His eyes turned into slits as he pondered, but he presumed time would tell him what he needed to know.

My Human is merely for my Ritual, Forrest said. I’ve grown bored of the hunt and turned towards torture instead. It brings more satisfaction in the long run. He rose from his seat and brushed off the front of his suit. Are you ready to meet them?

Je suppose, Jason muttered in Silvan language and vaulted down.

The brothers made their way to the grimy dungeon, with Forrest in front. Jason turned to lock them back in, as per policy, and the Demon waited ahead. His arms stayed crossed and his foot tapped as he awaited his brother.

The Kitsune shoved the metal key into his jacket pocket once the door was secured. He turned to see his brother growing irritable as usual and rolled his eyes in annoyance. Jason only grunted in response; Forrest’s condescending attitude was frustrating but typical.

Several minutes passed and there was a mutual realization that they had been lingering in the entryway. They exchanged tense looks. It was unusual for them to be uncomfortable in this type of situation. They were both authoritative and confident figures. Now they found themselves anxious for peculiar reasons.

Unbeknownst to the brothers, the storms of serenity and madness were forthcoming.

Chapter 3

Terra Date: September 14, 2072; 19:17

The stench of decay emanated from the dungeon upon their entry. The Kitsune’s nostrils flared—Jason had never cared for the scent of rotting flesh. He reached the dimly lit bottom of the stairs, and his icy blue eyes glowed slightly in nocturnal reaction. He was immediately captivated by emerald orbs in the second cell. Her translucent skin glimmered in the rising moonlight, complementing her natural delicacy. He was a fool for a woman of grim hollowness, and this girl exuded such emotion. Jason composed himself so as not to go weak in the knees. Surely the Goddess of Order was testing him. He reminded himself that this creature was Human and that her capture was solely for business purposes. Internally, however, he was slightly smug—to keep such a beauty entertained would be a cinch.

Perfect.

He shoved his hands in his jacket pockets and rolled his shoulders back to maintain confidence. His expression was blank in his typical unimpressed façade. A shift in movement at his side caught his attention then as the redhead hoisted herself up from her hanging position to sit. He observed the chaotic beauty at his eye level as she stared at him with caution.

Within Lola’s mind, her cerebral companions became panicked. A memory of Kitsune fangs biting off her flesh flashed through her head. Goose bumps crawled up her arms, and a shudder ran up her spine at the vivid recollection. Her kidnapping now made sense. He had finally broken the Oblitus curse, and he would try to kill her.

No.

For him, this was a coincidence. She could tell that the Kitsune was trying to decipher her familiarity. But his momentary look of frustration faded quickly into apathy, and he carried on to the adjacent cell.

If the Kitsune hadn’t brought her here, then who?

Lola’s eyes then landed on the impossible and her jaw immediately unhinged in astonishment. Centuries she had waited to see those golden orbs of devilish seduction—beyond their holoband interactions. Surely she was in the Realm of Somnium, dreaming of him once more. This was a manifestation of the Demon resurfacing in her eternal craving. It wasn’t impossible; she knew his Kitsune brother, and the other hostage oddly reminded her of a Goddess from her youth, a doppelganger of one of the Great Gods.

Was this man before her truly him? The tall beast with the chiseled jaw that wore an impeccable suit with fancy skull-shaped charcoal cufflinks. The redhead bit her lower lip in lustful wonderment. She longed to taste his Infernum-coated lips. The scar on her palm pulsed in reminder—she had never worn this marking in Somnium. She knew right then that she was awake, and after all this time, he was finally in front of her.

Forrest Carson? Lola murmured, breaking the long, curious silence.

Finally.

Forrest smirked as the sound of his name fell from her tongue in breathless wonder. He hesitated to approach her cell, using this momentary delay to admire her exquisiteness from afar. It had been too long since their last conversation, and her voice was music to his ears. The Demon had counted the days since he had last seen her, for the moment he had met her, his heart had been utterly captivated.

Lola.

Was this just another delusion of the mind—perhaps a mirage created to laugh at his fruitless search? Though the Demon never slept—it was difficult to unwind enough to do so—had he somehow reluctantly slipped into Somnium just to see her face again?

No.

His search for her might have finally come to an end, but he was still unsure. He’d heard rumors of her Mortal transition, but he needed to be positive that this was truly her.

Carson?! Vitane gulped involuntarily and began trembling uncontrollably. What did they want with her? Her heart beat so hard in her chest that it felt like it was under the pressure of a twisting clamp.

These were famous royal brothers within the Supernatural world. Among the cruelest, too. Spawned from the Demon of Wrath, but Hybrids like most other Supernaturals. Her nana would sit in her rocking chair and tell her old stories. One name often came up, from specific murders, to towns being flattened, to their conquering of entire Terrian patriams through the late 1900s and beyond.

The blue-haired girl studied the two men, looking for their distinct Supernatural mark. The one in the leather jacket possessed sharp, curved fangs, indicating that he was a Kitsune—a fox Hybrid. The other man had yet to speak, but she was sure he would have the forked tongue of a Demon if these really were the Carsons. And now they were here. In front of her. And she was their prisoner.

With a crooked brow, Jason observed the skittish Human. He thought it was bizarre that the Goddess of Order had selected this specific individual—she seemed frail. Perhaps she was a prodigy in the technological field; Humans were renowned for their skills in automation. Had the Goddess of Order not informed her that she would be spending time under the Carsons’ surveillance? Clearly the guards had roughed her up and conveyed the wrong impression—she was a guest here, not a prisoner. He brushed a hand through his hair and in an apathetic tone he said, That is correct, Princess.

The way he said princess made her nose crinkle, and her face became distorted by confusion and repulsion. How dare he? His cockiness assured that he had been Master of plenty before her. His overall authoritative demeanor couldn’t compare to the mightiness he felt from being an Immortal. But his tone confused her. She wasn’t sure if he was being smug or sincere. It almost sounded like a compliment, as though he saw her as comparable to royalty. This irritated her. She didn’t want his charity nor his sympathy; she just wanted to leave. His dialect unnerved her further, and she figured she wouldn’t last long here. Her malnourished body couldn’t put up a fight, and if she couldn’t restrain her impulsive mouth, it was likely she would be dead before the week was through.

Coming up to the cell bars, Forrest bowed his head to the redhead—partially as a greeting, but mostly out of respect for the woman. Then their eyes locked, and the rest of the world became silent. If he hadn’t been so encompassed by her, he would have been surprised by this, since he had impeccable hearing. It was as though Terra was suspended in this moment with them. He reached through the bars of her cage. His first urge was to take her cheek into his grasp, but first he needed evidence that this was real—that this was her.

He gently grasped her hand, his eyes never wavering from her gaze, completely captivated. He forced himself to look away and turned her palm up. A delicate black scar shimmered, and his thumb traced the slightly jagged disfigurement. A memory flashed through his mind from over three centuries ago. Then he heaved a sigh of relief. Even in her Human form, the marking had remained—the assurance of everything he had sought after for countless years.

"I’ve finally found you—but how did they find you? How is it that I can see you again? he murmured, low enough that only Lola could distinguish the words. And where is your Radiance, my love?" His eyes narrowed in concern at the loss of her Immortal glow. Why was she suddenly Human? Their most recent conversation had been roughly fifty years prior, and her Immortality hadn’t been disrupted at the time. What had the Demon missed?

As he spoke, questions flooded her mind as well. The voices argued with another over whether or not this was reality. Lola hastily snatched the Demon’s left hand, and he allowed it. He bore a similar marking to her own, etched into his palm. A

You've reached the end of this preview. Sign up to read more!
Page 1 of 1

Reviews

What people think about The Shadows of Wrath

0
0 ratings / 0 Reviews
What did you think?
Rating: 0 out of 5 stars

Reader reviews