took to it with a shocking intensity. Angry voices shouted across the city, armor clanked and banged incessantly, and not a soldier remained idle. Into that chaos Tessanna stepped out, no longer the princess with the power of the goddess. She looked like a tired, strained woman, too much of the world on her shoulders. She tried not to admit it, but she was eager for Velixar to see her, to see his reaction. Much as it might burn her, she wanted to be dismissed, no longer desirable to him.
“So the butterfly returns to the cocoon?” Velixar asked.
Tessanna startled and took a step back toward the castle door, surprised by how close his voice was. At one time she would have sensed his presence, but her magic had faded, and she felt blind and unaware.
His hands grabbed her arms, and she winced at the pain. His grip was iron.
“Qurrah will be so disappointed to see you like this,” he said, his eyes flaring wide.
“I don't care what he thinks,” she said.
Velixar laughed, and the sound, so dismissive, so superior, tightened the muscles in her stomach.
“Is that so?” he asked. “Then who is this charade for?”
“I felt your anger,” she said, trying to pull away. He grabbed harder, bruising her arm. She stopped her struggle. If she kept going, kept fighting, she knew what would happen.
“I know how much you hate me,” she said, her voice quieter. “I felt that too.”
“I have much to hate,” Velixar said. He pressed his body against hers. So cold, she thought. He's so cold, yet on fire.
“Your lover abandoned us,” the man in black continued. “Just as his brother did years before. The dark paladins, my friends, have lost most of their rank. You closed the portal I spent centuries plotting and killing to open, and now you turn me away, as if afraid.”
“I am not afraid,” she said.
“Yet you tremble.”
He gestured to the war demons that hurried about, not paying the slightest attention to them.
“Right here,” he said, pressing her tighter against him. “What would you do, Tessanna? How twisted is your desire? Forget intimacy or beauty. You had your chance for that last night. But what about your lust? What about your perversions?”
He pressed his cheek against hers, his lips brushing against her left ear. Now her whole body trembled.
“Struggle,” he whispered.
She pulled against his hands, but they held tight, latching her against him. Her legs twisted, she pushed back, but it was all false, and Velixar knew it. He let go of one of her wrists, instead wrapping his hand around her throat, his fingers pressing against the sides of her neck so that she felt the pressure but did not suffer any difficulty in breathing. He wanted her to breath. He needed to know.
“Scream,” he whispered.
She did. For him to leave. Him to get away.
The glow in his eyes deepened. He smiled.
“Get on your knees,” he commanded.
She did.
By now the war demons had noticed this commotion, but conflicted between curiosity and their orders, they chose their orders. Through the corner of their eyes they watched as they packed provisions and hurried to and fro, but none said a word, and none would interfere.
Velixar reached around and one by one undid the braids of her hair. He released her other wrist, and with his free hand covered her mouth with his palm, an icy gag to prevent any more screams. He felt her exhalations from her nose against his skin. It was warm. Strong. He leaned down and pressed his forehead to hers.
“I know what it is you need,” he said, his deep voice barely audible. “What you want. Qurrah's gone now, but you still need it. You want it. Control. Order. It is everything I am, you wretched little whore. Right here. Right now. In front of all of them.”
Tessanna looked up at him, tears in her eyes. All her anger and resolve from the night before seemed to have belonged to a different person.
“Say it,” he ordered.
“I will,” she said.
“I know you will,” Velixar said. Her tilted her head to one side and gently rubbed her cheek with his thumb. “Say my name.”
“Please…”
“Say it, or take off your dress.”
Her tears ran down her cheeks. When they touched his thumb, they filled with frost and stopped.
“Master.”
He kissed her forehead.
“Never forget it,” he said, and the words felt like a death sentence.
“I won't,” she said, her whole body shivering. Clutching her arms, she glared at the man she knew she had every reason to hate.
And then knelt on one knee and asked what her master wished.
Q urrah moaned in his sleep, his arms thrashing about in a desperate attempt to wake himself, but the dream would not let him. It had a power to it, magical in its source. He was surrounded by shadow, and within he saw hungry and beautiful creatures. The sound that filled his ears was their famished wailing. Beneath his feet was barren rock, stretching out until it merged with the shadows to become nothingness.
Before him two red eyes peered out from the shadows, followed by a grin, followed by the rest of the ever- changing face. Velixar laughed, the laugh of the victorious.
“I have her now,” he told Qurrah, who sat on his knees in a helpless stupor. “I have twisted her desires against her. I have turned her hate into love, for with you, the two emotions were always so closely intertwined.”
“You lie,” Qurrah heard himself say.
Again that maddening laugh.
“I have told you time and time again,” Velixar said, his grin growing. “I never lie.”
The dream ended, abrupt as it was horrible. The half-orc sat up in his tent, sweat covering his body. He wiped his face, and was not surprised to find tears there.
“The gods damn you, Velixar,” he said, clutching his head in his hands. “Even the Abyss is too little, too late for your kind.”
A fleeting idea of returning to Veldaren and hunting him down burned through his veins. In the end, he let it die. Suicide would not win Tessanna back, and more importantly, he wasn't sure if he even wanted her. Whatever she represented, it wasn't anything pure. But he didn't want her with Velixar, that much he knew.
No one deserved that fate.
Especially someone he loved.
“Damn it all to the Abyss,” he said, leaning back and covering his eyes with his forearm. Someone he loved, he’d thought. So he still did. One question answered, a million more made anew. Questions that should have waited until the dawn, but he knew would keep him awake, gnawing like tiny insects within his brain.
Damn it all, indeed.
T hey marched out, Tessanna at Velixar's side, looking like his beautiful bride in a silver dress and with thin strands of gold decorating her hair. She didn't feel like a princess. All around them shuffled rows and rows of undead. Among their ranks were many angels and demons, their golden skin pale and dead, their wings limp and featherless. She tried her best not to look at them.
High above, Thulos's troops flew in perfect triangular formations. In their center, tied by twenty ropes and carried by the demons, hung the throne of Veldaren. Like a conquering king, Thulos sat on its cushions and looked out across the land that was his.
They traveled until nightfall. The two might have shared a tent, but the cold of night meant nothing to Velixar, nor did sleep. He left her huddled under several blankets, seeking prayer with his dark god. When he left, Tessanna finally allowed herself to think freely.
She’d been terrified he would try to take her, although she was not sure how that would work, or if it could. She remembered that moment in the tower, and decided she did not want to know. She wrapped her blankets
