Queen of Darkness (War of Heavenly Fire Book 1) Read online

  Queen of Darkness

  Devyn Sinclair

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  21. Keep in touch!

  About the Author

  Coming soon from Devyn Sinclair

  Copyright © 2020 Devyn Sinclair

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover Design by Atlantis Book Design

  Created with Vellum

  CHAPTER ONE

  _______

  The sword whistles over my head missing me by barely an inch, but the movement I use to avoid the blow costs me. I stumble, falling to my knees on the glossy stone floor.

  “You can do better than that,” Cassian growls, coming after me at full speed.

  I barely manage to get my sword up and in front of me in time to block his blow, but I do. The vibrations rock through me as metal clangs, and it makes my bones ache. Swords are not my favorite, but I don’t exactly have a choice right now.

  Cassian has me beat in both height and weight, the force he’s placing on me through our locked weapons making my knees want to buckle. This, I can work with. I disengage and spin to the side in one fluid movement—one that I admit is better suited to knife play—and it does the trick.

  He loses his balance and steps forward out of his guard long enough to give me an opening. It’s not much, but it’s enough. I brace myself and slice downward towards his ribs. But swords are Cassian’s favorite, and he twists his blade around mine with a flick of his wrist that leaves me jealous. “You’re supposed to be fighting like Nissa,” I say, gritting my teeth to brace against another jarring blow.

  He takes a step back, twirling his blade with easy confidence. “You already know how to fight Nissa and how to beat her. But if you beat me, you know that you’re ready.”

  “Arrogant asshole,” I mutter.

  He smirks. Just enough of a distraction to dive to my left and come up swinging. I back up, trying to think. It’s been long enough since I trained with Cassian that I’m rusty. That assignment made me soft, and it’s at the worst time. But I can do this.

  He steps close faster than I can breathe and delivers a stinging slap with the flat of his blade. “Fuck, Cassian.”

  “Breathe through it and say it.”

  I take a deep breath, letting years of practice still my mind. “I am a weapon forged from pain.” And I’m a weapon that can take him down. Brute strength won’t work. We’re not evenly matched enough for me to force my way through it. No. I have to do what every natural instinct tells me not to do: get closer.

  Cassian lifts his weapon into a high guard and strikes downwards, and I twist underneath his arm, leaning with my back pressed to his chest and his arm over my shoulder. Using the momentum he gave me, I help him along, flipping him over and onto the ground. I have only a second, and I use it, dropping to press the flat of my blade to his throat. “You were saying?”

  His laugh is a raspy chuckle. “I think you’re ready.”

  “And I think you should say something nicer than that if you want to get out of this.”

  Somehow I don’t see it coming. The quick twist of his hips and suddenly I’m the one on my back. But there’s no blade at my throat. It’s clattering away across black stone while Cassian’s powerful body pins me to the floor. “You were saying?” He says, smirking.

  It’s a dangerous game he’s playing. And in spite of everything, the way Cassian feels against me is good. Dark eyes close and that mouth tempting me to cross the tiny distance between us. Yes, my body says, and I arch up into him. Playing with fire.

  I shouldn’t want him. I shouldn’t want anyone at all. But the idea of being with someone who wants to be with me makes heat rise under my skin. It’s always been this way—drawn towards each other for as long as I can remember.

  He’s studying me, and our faces are way too close for comfort, and I place my hands on his chest. “Cassian. We can’t.”

  Black wings appear out of smoke and fold over us, hiding us from any eyes that might be watching. And here in the Underworld, there’s always someone watching. “Why not?”

  I roll my eyes. “That’s a stupid question.”

  “Is it?” he murmurs, dropping his mouth so that his lips are touching mine. Not a kiss, but almost. “Because last I checked, tomorrow is the day when we don’t have to care so much.”

  His words make me shiver, and crave what we’ve never been able to complete. “Maybe.”

  “I’m pretty certain.” The way he’s pressing against me makes it very clear what he’s feeling and what he’s thinking. And my mouth goes dry with the need of it. But I can’t—we can’t. It’s forbidden.

  And even if it weren’t, I shouldn’t. Disgust and self-loathing hits me in a wave, and I roll out from under Cassian to free myself from temptation. Running a hand through my hair, I sigh. “We’ll see, I guess.”

  His hand brushes my shoulder. “Arielle.”

  I cringe away from his touch—that’s something I don’t want mixed with memories of them. But I don’t let it show on my face. Instead I give him a grim smile. “It wasn’t an easy assignment.”

  Cassian’s eyes go dark with anger. “What happened?”

  “Nothing happened,” I say automatically. And it’s true. Nothing extraordinary happened. I completed the mission I was assigned by the King of the Underworld. To assassinate the human king of Ellismer and therefore sow chaos in his country. The underworld thrives on chaos, and that’s what will allow us to win the war against heaven.

  And so I did what I was told. I became the precious, giggling girl that was overwhelmed by the beauty of the court and the country, and I made him want me. I fucked him, and when he was least expecting it, I slit his throat.

  They’ll never find the girl they remember going to bed with the King. She was blonde and bubbly and innocent. I’m none of those things. And when Cassian touches me like that, I want him. I want to be touched by someone who sees me for who I am. Not someone who believes a disguise. Not someone I’m supposed to kill. And not someone who’s being repaid by my father with access to my body.

  The only person I’ve ever wanted is Cassian, and I’m not allowed to touch him. Not until after tomorrow, and maybe not even then. “I should go,” I say, standing and collecting my sword from where he tossed it. “I need to rest before the fight. And I need to see the King.”

  He stares at me for a moment, and it’s everything I can do not to squirm under his gaze—Cassian has always had a way of being able to see straight through me—but I don’t flinch. “All right,” he says. “Rest well.”

  “Thanks.” I grab my scabbard off the floor where I left it and strap the sword to my back as I walk towards the throne room. I don’t know what kind of reception I’m going to get since I didn’t report in as soon as I returned to the underworld, but I was willing to risk it to train with Cassian. I wanted to fight and claw and scream and try to get the feeli
ng of the human King’s throat splitting under my blade out of my fucking head. After tomorrow, no more. No more seductions. Send me to kill people, I don’t care. But the look on their faces when they see the betrayal eats at me.

  Even if it shouldn’t.

  This happens every time I go on assignment, and it’ll be better after I sleep. I’ve never been able to let go of things the way Nissa or Cassian or Arad seem to be able to do. I remember the people I’ve fucked and killed, and I don’t think I’ll be able to forget them. But this is what this life is. It’s what it means to be an Underworld assassin. Even if it’s not what I would have chosen for myself.

  There are some choices that you can’t come back from, even if the choices were not yours.

  The throne room is eerily empty, blue-tinged gloom gathering at the corners and the cool light of Eris shining through the oculus. Behind the throne—a monstrosity made of jagged, shining rock—there’s a warmer glow. The council room is occupied.

  I allow myself only a moment to breathe outside the door. To make sure my cold mask is solidly in place. I cannot afford to show anything other than strength. Not even for a second.

  And then the moment passes, and I force myself to step across the threshold and into the room. There’s a thousand and one memories in this room, and none of them are good. It’s the room I like least in this castle. Stepping over the threshold, I try not to look at the door frame. But I never manage not to. The marks from my fingernails are still there. The King never removed them, even though healing the stone would take a flick of his finger and a speck of power.

  He wants me to see, and to remember. All the times I was beaten and forced until I was molded into what he needed me to be. I throw my shoulders back as I stride into the room. My father and his advisors stand around a massive table, the surface lit from below with infernal power.

  I fucking hate that table.

  I’ve been beaten on it and fucked over it and bound to it and burned as punishment. But none of that matters to the man—if you can call him a man—standing behind it. Arad looks up when I enter, black eyes showing no emotion. That’s for the best. When his black gaze feels something, someone else will feel pain.

  Right now the table is showing a projection of cliffs and underground tunnels. The interiors of the cliffs are lined with what look like drilled holes.

  “Is it done?”

  “Yes.”

  He nods, looking back at the surface of the table. “Good. And why wasn’t this room your first stop once you returned to the underworld?”

  “I had unfinished business.”

  The image on the table has shifted to show the forces of darkness. Demons and dark angels and succubi. Any creature that carries the flag of the underworld and rallies to our cause. Arad waves a hand and the image disappears. “Show me.”

  I grit my teeth, fighting against the nausea in my gut. “You don’t trust me?”

  “I expect that when I give a command that it will be obeyed. You are not the heir of the underworld yet.”

  There’s a subtle threat in those words. If I keep defying him, I never will be. I keep the grimace off my face as I reach for my darkness. It burns along my bones and makes me gag. It’s a sickness that has taken root deep inside my stomach and roars with delight in how much I hate it. But that’s the nature of the underworld’s power.

  Pulling out the memory of my assassinating Ellismer’s king, I offer it in my palm, a kernel of crimson light. Arad inclines his head towards the table, and I go still. No one else has moved or spoken since I have been in this room, but they are here, and watching. This is not something I want them—want anyone—to see. But it will be worse if I refuse.

  I turn my palm and drop my memory onto the table, and immediately the room is filled with the sound of my moaning. The view from my eyes appears in vivid crimson—the human king’s face below me as I rode him. “Yes,” I say. “Yes,” in that breathless voice I chose for the character. The man groans, and his eyes close. “Make me come, little girl.”

  I hear myself giggle. “Yes, your majesty.”

  He’s smiling when I draw my knife across his skin, blood pouring from the wound and the look of shock freezing on his face as he dies.

  The image fades into darkness again, and I only look at Arad. The King of the Underworld. My father. I do not look around at his advisors and the looks of lust that they’re giving me. Some not bothering with subtlety and stroking themselves through their pants. No doubt someone will ask me for me again. As if everyone in this room but my father hasn’t been rewarded with taking me at some point.

  “Satisfied?”

  The corner of the King’s mouth tips up. “Very. As it seems you were.”

  My face flushes, but I grind my teeth shut and say nothing. Never show anything.

  “Prepare yourself for tomorrow, daughter. Telem will retrieve you when it is time.” I nod and turn to go. “Arielle.” I freeze, though I do not turn around. “Your sword.”

  Fuck. I forgot. I unstrap the sword from my back and lean it against the wall by the door. My father speaks one more time. “If you are named heir, your business with me will always come first.”

  There isn’t a question there. It is a fact. Or else.

  I nod once before exiting the room. Cassian is standing there. He’s watching me, expressionless. There’s not a chance that he didn’t hear everything that just happened. Heard me fucking a random man and murder him.

  For a second, I think I see concern in his eyes, but he says nothing. There’s nothing to say. Even if we were alone, it wouldn’t matter. We both know that in this matter, I don’t have a choice.

  CHAPTER TWO

  _______

  The knock pulls me from sleep. I was so deep that it takes the pounding on the door to happen again for me to fully realize what’s happening. Shit.

  “Hang on.”

  I’m in my underwear. When I got back to my room the exhaustion hit me all at once. Traveling back to the underworld, training, and that fucking meeting. I dropped my clothes and collapsed onto my bed. I don’t even think that I moved when I was sleeping, based on how my joints are twinging.

  The banging comes again, and I yank on the pants I left on the floor before crossing to the door and throwing it open. “What?”

  Cassian is standing there, and his mouth turns up at my tone. “Morning, sunshine.”

  I turn away but leave the door open so he can follow me inside. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to see how you’re feeling. I would have thought you’d be up by now.”

  Time rarely has meaning in the underworld, but I glance at the complicated series of hourglasses that woven into my wall. Not even an hour until Telem shows up at my door and I have to present myself in the throne room. Fuck. “When did you start checking in on me?” I ask, dropping my pants onto the floor again.

  Cassian has seen me naked plenty of times. And I’ve seen all of him. The line between us was drawn by my father, and no matter how drawn we are to each other we can’t cross it. And our attraction was used against us. We’ve been flaunted to each other more times than I can count.

  Between being trained as a seductress and an assassin, there’s not much of me that hell hasn’t seen.

  “When you started looking like hell,” he says. The roughness in his voice catches my attention.

  I look back at Cassian, and he’s staring at me. His dark eyes are even darker with the lust that he usually hides. I’ve got a thousand moments that match that look. And they play through my mind like a slideshow.

  Cassian steps towards me, and as he does he lets his wings appear. Out of mist and shadow, so wide that they nearly fill the room. Cassian is looking at me like I’ve always imagined that he would, but nothing has changed. And the way he’s stalking forward—fully the predator and the fallen angel he is—make my stomach drop and my toes curl. “Cassian, what the fuck is going on?”

  He doesn’t speak, just closes the dist
ance between us until he’s up against me, body pressed down the length of me. One hand hauls me against him and the other tangles in my hair, and before I have a chance to tell him that we can’t, his mouth crashes down on mine.

  Oh, fuck.

  Just like last night, his wings wrap around us, hiding us in darkness and shadow. I’m no longer in control of my body, because I want this. I want him. The kiss is rough. Claiming. And desire—true desire—unfurls along my spine like I’ve never felt before.

  I kiss him back.

  He doesn’t taste anything like I imagined that he would. Like rain in the air and the remnants of a campfire. Cassian’s fingers tighten in my hair and on my spine, and all I feel is heat. It’s so much more that I can contain, the sum of a thousand moments desperately ignored.

  Our tongues tangle together, pulling us together at the same time as we’re doing battle. The same way it’s always been between us.

  I jerk myself back, separating us with a gasp. “What are we doing?”

  Cassian doesn’t let me move an inch, keeping me plastered against his body where I can feel every hard inch of him. Even the bits of him I’ve only dreamed of truly touching. “I wasn’t going to let today happen without knowing what that felt like,” he says.

  I close my eyes for a moment, stilling my thoughts. The things those words bring up are dangerous. They give me hope and longing, and there is no place for those things here. Not with who I am.

  “Don’t think he won’t kill you, Cassian. He will.”

  That familiar cocky grin that I know hides everything appears again. “Worth it.”

  I shove him away, but I smile, easing the urge to drag him over to my bed and let him take me. It’s not a small urge. He would be the first that I would have taken to bed willingly. My choice and mine alone. I turn away and take a breath, forcing that fire back down into its cage where it’s lived for the past decade. “Telem is going to be here soon.”