Heir of Broken Fate (HOBF Book 1)

With my new dragon sword strapped to my back I enter the foyer, searching for Knox. We’re tracking the demon hounds today. Whenever the image of those creatures enters my mind, ice skitters down my spine. Earlier this morning after describing the beasts to Hazel, she showed Knox and me the demon hound description in the demonology book of creatures.

The demon hounds travel and hunt in packs, each pack having a leader. They don’t possess any magic, yet their senses—especially their smell—are as sharp as a Fae’s. Their strength comes from being immune to our divine magic from the dark magic coursing through their blood. While you can cut off their airway or hold them down with shadows and ward them off with fire, it won’t kill them, only delay. Besides beheading them, the only weakness they possess is angelic magic. Knox informed me that no one has possessed angelic magic since before the angels were extinct, around the same time dark magic was banished.

Although, it was only the seven archangels that possessed the angelic magic. With the archangels not being able to reproduce and pass on their lineage, it was believed to be that they were a gift from Mother Gaia herself, to protect the Fae lands from the very creatures we stand against today.

With that in mind, every blade I own is currently strapped to my body.

I’m leaning against the center table when Knox enters the foyer. He’s dressed impeccably as always in his black fighting leathers, armed to the teeth with swords. Pushing off the table, I encompass us in a silence shield thanks to Knox teaching me in our earlier magic lesson. “Could we ask the other court royals if they know what happened to the dark magic books?”

Knox flashes a fake smile. “Hello, Delilah, I’m great today, thank you for asking.”

I roll my eyes. “I just saw you at lunch several hours ago. We don’t need to say any fake pleasantries.”

Come to think of it, we’ve never done the fake pleasantries.

He mock pouts, placing a hand over his heart. “You wound me, Delilah.”

“No, I wound your ego.”

I stare at him, waiting for the answer to my question. When only silence greets me, I cross my arms over my chest. “Knox,” I say irritably.

“Delilah,” he mimics, crossing his own arms. His biceps flex and bunch with the movement.

We have a stare down. I don’t crack or break. That stubborn part of me keeps my gaze locked on his.

“Hazel was right about the face you pull,” he mutters under his breath before letting out a long sigh. “No, we can’t trust them. Many are in the queen’s pockets, sucking up to her for any scrap of power. They’ll turn us over to the queen for asking such things.”

I place my hand on my hip. “That wasn’t very difficult, was it?”

Knox ignores me, striding to the back door. “Let’s go before we lose any more sunlight.”

That was the other thing Hazel found. The demon hounds are impossible to see at night. With their shadows and leathery black skin, it would be impossible to track them without a source of light.

Trailing after Knox, I notice his body is tense. I don’t pry; if something’s bothering him, he can tell me, otherwise it’s none of my business. A lot of my beatings from my father came from asking too many questions. I learned a long time ago to keep my curiosity to myself, regardless of if its concern.

Knox pauses in the garden, holding out his hand to me.

I slowly step forward, sliding my hand in his, feeling the rough calluses tickle my skin. White light surrounds us, wind pulling my hair this way and that a moment before my feet connect with the forest floor.

Whichever way I look, all I see are endless trees. The dense forest smell assaults my senses. We must be near the witches’ border because I can smell the damp moss.

Knox’s back is taut, face hard as granite as we walk silently, avoiding anything that will make a sound. Letting my senses take over, I listen to the flaps of small birds’ wings, trees rustling, and critters crawling. We continue for hours like this.

If I was still a human, I wouldn’t have felt it—the energy shift in the air. It’s as subtle as a pin dropping.

Knox blows our scent in the opposite direction, then pauses.

I force myself to open my senses fully, allowing the Fae body to take control as I calm my breathing and pay attention to the change in the forest.

Animals are no longer around us, hiding or deserting the area completely. I can’t hear or feel them. Even the trees seem to hold their breath, right as a putrid smell fills the air. My canines flare. Demon hounds.

I can hear their sniveling voices and slithering tongues in the distance. They’re not trying to be silent; they don’t care if they’re seen or heard. They’re acting like they own the forest.

I lean closer to Knox, sliding my hand in his palm. Knox whips his head to me, confusion swimming in his eyes before understanding smooths his furrowed brows. A gentle energy flows through me, zipping up my arms and legs as I make Knox and I wholly disappear from the eyes of the forest. I don’t know how to make someone disappear without being physically connected, so Knox has to shut up and deal with holding my hand.

We approach their atrocious scent, careful to not disturb our surroundings until the next demon hounds’ conversation makes Knox freeze.

“She wants them alive,” it sneers.

Growls of protest break out. “I want a piece of the king,” another spits.

“You’ll enjoy it more if it lasts longer,” it hisses.

My hand instinctively tightens in Knox’s, but his returning squeeze does nothing to soothe the anxiety rushing through my chest at the thought of being taken and held captive by a pack of these creatures. The torture they would inflict would break even the strongest of Faes.

The demon hounds discuss how they plan to pick us apart piece by piece for enjoyment. Despite my gut telling me to run we get closer, silent as night as we creep around a large oak tree. No more than a hundred feet from where we stand are six demon hounds, black shadows swirling around their leathery skin.

“I want the bitch. Her blood smelt pure,” one purrs. “Her screams would be like a melody—”

“Speak of the devil,” another snarls.

As one, the demons separate in different directions, their sniffing fills the forest air. They’re hunting us, not aware that we’re already hunting them.

I inch toward the one who claims to love the smell of my blood, until Knox yanks me back hard, shaking his head. I narrow my eyes at him. With his mouth on my ear, speaking so quietly I barely register it, he whispers, “Wait for it.”

Leaning my back against his chest, I wait, but there’s nothing.

A gentle brush of a finger down my ear raises goosebumps on my arms.

Listen and feel.

Listening to his soft purr in my mind I take a steadying breath and focus.

The forest went silent the moment the demon hounds arrived, making it easier to feel them. I don’t need to send my power out to find them. It feels wrong with them here, as if they’re disturbing the very essence of the forest’s pure energy.

I feel more than hear one moving directly toward us.

I unsheathe the blade strapped to my back, widening my feet as I prepare myself.

Swirls of shadow are the first thing I see, followed by leathery black fingers clawing the tree in front of me. Its pointed, razor blade claws scratching the bark as it slices down.

“Delilah,” it sings.

My body stills at its gut-wrenching voice.

They’re caging us in.

Deadly calm washes over me. I refuse to let these creatures win. Keeping my hand in Knox’s, I open my mind to him.

Teleport us.

Within a blink of an eye we vanish, moving through light and time before standing on the forest floor once more. Instead of being in front of the demon, we’re behind it.

Its leathery back is hunched, its smooth black head tilted to the side as it slowly slithers around the tree.

The hound freezes the moment I drop Knox’s hand and uncloak myself, turning to face me, bearing the rows of endless sharp teeth in a smile. Crimson blood drips from its fangs.

I mimic its stare, my smile serpentine.

Before the hound can move, green vines snap its hands and feet to the tree trunk. My blade rests on its neck as I shove all my strength into it.

“I hear you like the smell of me,” I croon.

Its face slackens, rage burning through those depthless black pits of hell it has for eyes.

I cock my head. “What’s the matter? Don’t like being held against your will?” When all the creature does is bare its teeth at me, I roll my eyes. “See, this is how it’s going to go. You either tell me who sent you, or you never walk through this forest again.”

The hound blinks.

One.

Two.

Three.

“That’s fine, I’ll just ask someone from your pack.”

“I’ll come back for you, bitch,” it sneers.

My grin widens as it thrashes below me. “I plan on it.”

I drag my blade across its neck, black blood oozing down the silver as its body slumps to the floor. The hound was never going to speak. We need to track them instead of caging them.

My confidence is short-lived as a branch snaps behind me.

I spin around to find Knox gone. Where he should be stands another hound, uncontrolled rage making it physically shake before it explodes. “You’re dead!” it roars.

The hound lunges, clawed talons making to rip out my arms but I see it coming and he’s not quick enough to see the blade in my hand. I duck, and with its left side exposed, I lunge, dragging my blade against its skin. It cries out in rage as black blood oozes from its ribs. Before it can blink, I’m moving behind it again. With my dragon sword I slash a clean cut across its Achilles heel. The sound of its shrieks fill the air, the horrible sound grating my eardrums. I strike again before it begins to fall to the ground, my blade meeting the black leathery flesh across its throat. Its head lolls to the ground, black blood covering the forest floor, joining that of its friend’s.

I wipe my blade on the nearest tree, the smell emanating from their corpses so foul I gag.This is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

Feeling power ripple at my back I turn, finding Knox leaning against a tree.

“I was wondering when you were going to come out and play,” he purrs.

I lift a brow. “You testing me?”

He shrugs. “Perhaps.” The smirk Knox gives me is purely ravenous. “Ready to run, Angel?”

A roar of outrage fills the forest as the demon hounds smell their dead.

Knox and I take off, running as fast as the wind.

Trees fly past me, the forest turning into a green blur. The hounds’ snapping jaws at my heels make me run faster. I follow Knox as he maneuvers in a zig-zag pattern between trees before he cuts me off, heading east. I hear the rushing of water in the distance. We push ourselves faster, the otherworldly energy close behind. The drop of a cliff looms in the distance, nearing closer when Knox drops back suddenly. I twist my head, not daring to slow as the hounds gain on us.

My eyes widen as Knox barrels straight for me. His arms circle my waist as he slams into my body, throwing us both off the cliffs edge.

Free falling for the rushing water below, I watch the blue sky get further and further away, waiting for Knox to expand his wings and fly. But he never does. I take a deep breath, locking my entire body, readying it for the assault as we hit the water.

The impact makes my bones scream, feeling as if a boulder hit me. Knox tightens his arms around me, pulling my back fully to his chest as he holds me.

I wait for my chest to squeeze in protest of needing air, yet it never comes. Awe fills me as Knox siphons air into my lungs. My body relaxes into his, my muscles softening, easing into the planes of his hard chest.

Knox starts to swim, not up but behind. Dragging us further into the water, the flow of the waterfall pelts the surface above us. The roaring gets louder before it begins to fade. Knox pulls us up, and I take in deep gulps of air once we breach the surface. Darkness surrounds us, the roar of the waterfall at my back, the water drops splashing me.

We’re behind the waterfall.

My eyes lift to Knox to find his sapphire ones already on me, always watching. We silently stare at each other, not daring to speak in case we alert the hounds.

I open my mind, a tiny crack in my wall.

They hate water, he explains.

I bite my lip to stop the laugh inside me from escaping. Knox’s humor mirrors my own in his beautiful eyes.

After treading water for what feels like hours, my body is weak and wobbly as Knox and I emerge from the swimming hole. My feet and hands have turned to prunes, and my white t-shirt is completely see-through as it clings to my skin.

I hold onto the slippery rocks, not trusting my shaky legs as I exit the water.

No hounds are to be felt or heard for miles. I’m so focused on sensing them that the power that erupts behind me knocks me to the ground, a phantom shadow catching my fall before my face smashes into the rock.

I turn to Knox, his lower half submerged in the water hole, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Rage I’ve never seen in him before clouds his eyes. His fists are clenched so tight they’re shaking.

“Who did that to you?” he asks, deadly quiet.

My brows furrow in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

His rage pulses around us, making fear stuff itself down my throat.

He’s terrifying when he’s angry. I’ve never seen him lay a hand on anyone unless they’re attacking him. You haven’t known him long enough, I remind myself, and that thought makes anxiety churn in my stomach.

“Who did that to you?” he growls again.

He’s not looking at me directly; no, his gaze is locked onto the side of my stomach.

My blood turns to ice, freezing me entirely.

I open my mouth to say something, yet my own voice leaves me. Knox doesn’t take his eyes off my side, his gaze so fiercely strong I peer down at myself.

Rigged white lines start from the side of my stomach and snake around my back. I stopped counting how many lines of scars my father left after slicing me open. I’ve never looked at my back in the mirror out of fear, but I know small round circles pepper the jagged cuts. Those would be courtesy of the iron fire poker my father used to burn me. The image of what my back potentially looks like sends bile into my throat. I don’t ever want to see the permanent damage my father inflicted on me. The ramifications of his words and actions are felt every day, and the fact there’s physical proof of my unworthiness in my father’s eyes kills me.

Shame and embarrassment coat my tongue, propelling me into action.

Knox is still staring at me when I turn. Ignoring him and the eyes I can feel burning a hole into my back, I exit the water, only to smack into a wall of muscle.

Knox’s hands fly out to stop me from falling. I rip my arms out of his grip as if his touch burned me.

“Don’t touch me,” I snap.

My words make Knox stumble back.

He lowers his voice, yet it doesn’t contain the rage still simmering in his eyes. “Who did that to you?” he demands.

“What does it matter?” I snap. “It has nothing to do with you!”

He lifts his brows, astonishment and shock flashing in his eyes before determined anger takes over again. “So help me gods, Delilah, you will tell me who did that to you, or I’ll find out for myself.”

Unease slithers down my spine. I don’t want him to see those memories. I don’t want him to look at me as weak.

The bastard stands there waiting for an answer. I know he’ll go into my mind if I don’t tell him. Which feels like a violation in itself.

“My father,” I spit through gritted teeth.

Not wanting to see his reaction, I lower my eyes to my sopping wet shoes. “Take us back,” I say flatly.

He’s silent for so long I begin to wonder if he teleported away. I’m sure he’s waiting for me to make eye contact with him, but I refuse to. He’s not the only one feeling angry at this moment.

He had no right to push me.

“Is he still alive?” he asks, his voice dripping with ice.

I grit my teeth. “Yes.”

“Good,” he growls.

Before I can respond his warm hand takes mine. White light surrounds us as the wind rips at our wet clothes. The second my feet connect with white marble tiles, I storm away, locking the door to my room.

I pace as rage burns inside me. I’m only here because of the stupid bargain. What happened to me before doesn’t concern him. Knox only needs me alive so I can use my power to break the entrapment spell, then he will be done with me.

A small part of me protests the idea that Knox will be done with me the second he gets what he wants, but the majority of me expects it. It’s what a king would do, after all.

I silence the small voice in my mind that questions why he was so enraged.