Eternal Damnation (The Amagarians 3)

In their realm, men were given rank for their might and power, and at his pronouncement, the hovering despair which had still clung to their chakra vanished. They snapped to attention, slamming their closed fist across their chest in their sign of respect and deference to his power. Questions glowed in their eyes, but no lips parted, they merely waited for his commands.

“You will stay in the shadow space and watch and be vigilant unless ordered to fight. There are other Darkans here in the Empire working for the emperor.” He pinned the men with his gaze. “Your sole job will be to ensure your sister leaves this place alive.”

They nodded, their eyes lowering to his tattoos, then back up to his face.

“You do not have your demons yet, but when you encounter the enemy, you will show no mercy. My mate is within these walls, and my sole attention will be for her.”

Then he went to each guard, four in total, who had been incapacitated but remained alive. He shook them conscious one by one, staring into their eyes. They cringed with terror and whimpered. He reveled in their fear and misery, then he ripped their still beating hearts from their chests.

9

The mass of snakes pulsed and slithered away with surprising speed. Shilah did not betray any alarm at the re-emergence of Lachlan, a fact that pleased her immensely. She doubted five minutes had passed since he left the cage, and her frantic pacing had not helped her shattered nerves. She had restrained from reaching out to Kala, not wanting to offer her false hope of rescue or that he would have indeed returned for her. Shilah held up the great torch, the flickering light dancing over the play of his muscles. Blood splattered his chest, face, and his mouth. The flame dipped as her hand convulsed.

Do not react. Do not react. It took every ounce of courage she possessed to step to his side. “Did you find the princess’s guards?” She was impressed at how calm her voice sounded.

He did not speak. Instead, there was a press against her thoughts, and a shadow crossed her mind, dark and sinister. Shilah forced herself to hold still and to accept the soft probe against her mental shields. The shadows shifted and then she was clasped from behind. She dropped the torch, sucking in a harsh breath as the sensation of plummeting hundreds of miles down created the dizzying sense of vertigo. The rough scrabbling of claws scraping the cavern side seeking a foothold reached her ears. Their descent slowed, and the grinding sound of his claws burrowing into the rocks traveled down echoing into the cavernous darkness below. They came to a sudden stop that had Shilah gasping for breath in the darkness.

A burst of breeze caressed her face, and then a great torch was held out to her. She gripped it and looked around the labyrinth. There was no doubt they were underground, the tunnel they stood in wove like a maze in several directions. He rolled forward with animalistic grace into one of the darkened maze-like entrance. After a slight hesitation, she followed swallowing her trepidation at the gore that splattered the ground.

She did not want to know what had happened. Her determined steps slowed the further they walked into the tunnel. The light from the torch unveiled the specks of flesh, bones, and blood that lined the floor and smeared the wall. Her breathing sounded loud and shallow even to her own ears.

Had he done this?

She sensed he was close by, yet she could not see him. The great torch’s range only went so far. Shilah heard clamoring ahead and quickened her pace. Even though seemingly alone she did not want to linger in the body-strewn tunnel. She rounded a bend and gagged fighting not to spew. A horrid smell permeated the air beyond the scent of fresh kill. Recovering from the smell she took note of her surroundings, her throat worked, but no sound came out. Shilah could only stare at the carnage. Bodies littered the ground, but she could not decipher limb from head. They were in pieces. Blood and bits of flesh painted the walls, ceiling of the tunnel in a macabre testimony of the brutality of their death. A soft whimper escaped her lips, and her stomach roiled in dread.

She spun around, held the torch up and stared at him. He wa

s watching her in that cold, unflinching way of his. He could have offered them a clean death, why would he do this? She sucked in a harsh breath as a revelation flowered inside. He was a Darkan, his kind fed on the pain of others, and now she understood a little bit more as to why they were so feared by everyone else.

There was another dark brush against her mind. She hesitated briefly, before opening her mind to his along their unique connection.

“Tell me, mate, are these men the ones I seek?”

Shilah flinched. His voice throbbed with such awful power it was almost unbearable to connect with him mentally. She lifted the torch, assessing the cage where two men stood, watching them, their expressions flat and hard. They were warriors or had been. The clothes hung on their thin frames, and several wounds covered their bodies. Yet there was fierce and determined resolve stamped in their gaunt and weary faces. She scanned their minds carefully.

The monster has returned

Why is he back?

I must prepare if he attacks.

His speed is unfathomable.

Sweet mercy, who is she?

She is enchanting.

She is with the demon.

What is happening?

Are we being rescued?

Is this my death?

The voices of several more prisoners seeped in, flittering through her mind with stunning speed. Their fear and uncertainty grated at her and glancing around she quickly lit several of the torches mounted on the wall of the labyrinth. Perhaps a mistake, for the tunnel was now lit, and the gore was unmistakable. She identified the source of the smell, it was rotting flesh. In several cells lay the dead, mangled bodies of prisoners. The smell of death and decay was intense and overwhelming. The psychic echo of their pain lingered, and with a shuddering breath, she reinforced her barriers. “The prisoners are confused as to what is happening,” she said aloud, so the nearby prisoners could hear, and perhaps she might have relieved some of their fear. “They are not sure if you are here to kill them or rescue them.”

“Neither.”