IN FULL COLOUR - Dark Fantasy

Axel

When King Gaute finally looked up from the pages I handed him and said, “fine, you have my approval,” I felt the weight of a mountain lifting off my shoulders. Like I had been a caged animal, at last set free.

The blood in my veins hummed in response and I almost bolted to the thick iron gate.

“I will give you twenty of my soldiers and for goodness’ sake, just take my son with you.” A sharp jerk of the king’s chin towards Locke, who had taken up a stand near the entrance of the throne room with his muscled arms crossed angrily over his broad chest.

How different these fierce fae males suddenly seemed to the images I once had of fairies growing up. Thin feminine creatures, and scrawny males with silvery wings, pants so tight it looked like second skin and glitter coming out of all ends.

“Just get him out of my sight! He has been pining after that mate of yours like a lost pup for hours, whining and pleading like a damn woman!” The king spat on the ground in disgust.

Locke’s nostrils flared, his face pulled into a tight mask, unmoving. A vein bulged along the side of his neck; the only sign of endless rage brewing inside of him. The rage he would not dare show his father.

My jaw clenched as I bowed my head, “thank you, Majesty.”

“The gate will only be open for eight minutes from,” the king glanced to his side, where a servant immediately stepped forward and supplied the king with the current time. 01h37.

“Two A.M. then. Gerek will pull the lever on the hour, and you will have exactly eight minutes to get your men out. Whoever is left on this side of the gate after eight minutes, will be sealed back in. No exceptions.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw Gerek dip his chin in acknowledgement of his father’s wishes.

“Thank you, Majesty,” I managed to say and left. We didn’t have any time to spare, and I would need more weapons and armour before we left, as would my men. Locke and Jarryd fell into step with me as soon as we cleared the front glass gates.

“Notify the squad,” I said to Jarryd and his eyes glazed over mid-stride.

“It isn’t like that you know,” Locke said reluctantly from beside me as we entered the gardens. He was still fuming. I didn’t need my mate’s gift to see bad energy rolling off him. I knew exactly what he was referring to, the way his father had insinuated that he had romantic feelings for Gabrielle.

I turned to him, my face serious, “I know.”

Pam appeared up ahead and the prince’s brown eyes slid to her, something flickering within, softening his hardened stare. I patted him on his shoulder twice and stepped away.

“We wear black,” I said over my shoulder as the prince made his way towards the red-headed she-wolf.

His chocolate brown hair hung in loose strands around his chiselled face as he stopped so close to her, they were practically standing chest to chest.

“Black,” I said to Jarryd, “twenty minutes.” He nodded and left.

With one final glance over my shoulder, I saw Locke brush his thumb slowly over Pamela’s cheek and suddenly I knew exactly why he was always hanging around in Dire Mountain. Why he was so close to my mate. Pamela had been a dear friend of hers for ages, it was only natural that her path would cross with Locke’s.

I had to force myself to look away as the sting of jealousy echoed through me. I would have done, given anything to be able to brush my own thumb over my mate’s cheek right about now.

And as I walked off, I tried reaching out to Gabby through the mate bond again. Nothing.

She was too far away. I knew that because I hadn’t felt the bond snap between us, which meant she was still alive.

The only thing that kept my sanity in check was the fact that we would be heading out in less than an hour, even if Coyne’s plan was either genius or borderline absurd.

Hope. There was still hope.

~

Twenty minutes later, we stood shoulder to shoulder, all dressed in black armour and weaponed from head to toe, waiting for the thick iron to slide open.

A pregnant, saturated silence filled the small spaces between us as each warrior stilled his mind and readied his thoughts for battle. We didn’t know what to expect. We didn’t know if this insane plan would work, but we had to at least try.

An old uneasy feeling had crept into my stomach long ago and my wolf paced restlessly inside of me. He was on edge; I could sense it. But what else could we do? We didn’t have any other options left. This was it. The best we could come up with in such a short period of time and with such limited resources.

We didn’t have an army and we didn’t have traps like Dreams and Seduction had laid out before us. But we did have a very fucking reckless plan that had my skin crawling and my gut twisting in angst.

The lack of space in the stone corridor only allowed four men to stand next to each other. In the front line, Jarryd stood to my left, alert and sweating slightly in anticipation. Coyne was on my other side and Locke beside him.

Beast had insisted on coming with us although I still felt it was a bad idea. So, I stationed him in the second line behind me, close, so that I could keep an eye on him. He was shaking and snarling. Jumpy and almost unstable.

Three black beasts sat in front of us, waiting, their red fury eyes glowing in the darkness of the hall and their curved thick horns seeping murk. The same thick murk which twirled around Coyne’s fingertips.

Death.

The King of Shadows and Whispers was like something out of an ancient tale of horror and wrath. Demise given a very pretty face.

His golden almond eyes slid to me as the iron clicked and the metal groaned, lifting slowly. A dip of his chin and we were out, clearing the gate as one.