Ascension Read online

  Maybe there isn’t anything to let inside? Rather anticlimactic really. I was expecting a few more fireworks and sparkles. Maybe a fairy godmother or—with a rush that tears a cry through my clenched teeth, it floods into me.

  I grunt at the strength of it. Jerk Magiks.

  It builds inside me like a growing fire. Blazing into an inferno that overtakes everything. This time there’s so much more… stretching my psyche, my body.

  I feel like I’m going to pop like a too full balloon if this keeps up.

  My inner self reaches out to that Web that scares me so much—finding those directly connected to me. These creatures of the dark.

  There is no stopping it this time, no denial to hide behind, no more walls. I close my eyes as the final wave of power washes through me. My back bows and I rise into the air. I can do nothing but be amazed at the feeling of the Magiks crawling over my skin, digging down deep inside of me.

  Changing me on a physical and a Magikal level into something else.

  The skin of my forearms turns black all the way to my clawed fingertips. Underneath the blackened skin, there’s movement. The monster I am beneath, the one I’ve been hiding from the world, is hinting at its existence.

  For now.

  In my mouth, my teeth lengthen, and the sharp points of them dig into my tongue, flooding my mouth with the taste of copper. My eyes burn, and a brief searing pain makes them water. Just as suddenly the pain ends, and a new lid moves sideways when I blink.

  Again, the Magiks question me.

  “I accept.” I say in barely a whisper but it’s all the Magiks and the Sidhe need.

  It’s like I have a backseat to my own body. All I can do is watch as someone else drives the car. At least they don’t drive grandma-style like Ruthie. This ride will be over fast.

  The Fiends gather closer, circling me in a vortex of darkness that grows tighter and tighter every second, as I feel myself rise even higher into the air.

  Whispers fill my mind. Whispers from the past, from the present, of the future to come. I imagine touching a finger to the glowing center of the Web where I’m connected to all the Feyrie. My father, my mother’s spirit. All the ones I’ve found along the way, their strands glowing along the lines of the Web.

  All the ones I haven’t met yet, their strands of life are dim but attached to the darkness inside of me.

  Fascinated, I watch the center flare and send a flash of light down all the strands of the Web—which is so much larger than I imagined it to be. Line after line lights up, each one connected to a being somewhere out in one of the worlds. Over and over it does this, until there are so many I lose count.

  Among so many, one draws my gaze. One strand is isolated from the others, interweaving only through the center. It’s dark, lit differently than any other, feels different.

  Phobe.

  The strand that’s Phobe, the essence of him, is completely interwoven with mine in the center.

  That’s interesting and unexpected.

  Distantly, I hear wood creaking from the strengthening power, feel the room around me slightly give and bow outwards. There’s so much now. Too much, maybe. It’s quite mesmerizing, really. But it would be cooler if it wasn’t happening to me.

  If none of this were.

  I focus on the massive webbing of Feyrie, so many yet so few. I can feel so many of them. Feel them watching, feel them waiting. Feel their awareness of me being aware of them.

  Wow. Just wow.

  Lightning flashes across the strands of the Web inside of me and I become aware of those that have come before. Hear their voices of sadness, their fears for their people, their power all combining into my own.

  Lastly, I feel their rage at what has become of their people… my people.

  My eyes jerk open, and they follow the darkness crawling along my body to converge into the solid form of the Fiend armor, a purple-black that shines ethereally in the dark. Wicked and sharp, it covers me from head to toe in pure Dark power.

  The legion of Fiends are giving me their strength, their protection. Some of them sacrificed themselves to become this armor, the daggers. A hot tear rolls down my cheek and is ripped away by the Magikal winds.

  The Magiks don’t give me time to grieve for them.

  My mind is opening, casting away the shadows of doubts. There are no more illusions, no more fears. There’s only the Darkness, and it’s awake, and it’s me.

  A scream leaves my throat raw as the Web ripples, lighting each strand even brighter.

  I call you to me.

  Dormant Dark Marks flare to life. I can feel them all. Feel them raise their faces to the sky, hearing my call, every single Dark creature in existence.

  Melting through the ceiling into the unnaturally colored sky, I rise higher on Magikal winds. A bubble of solid dark power surrounds me, black lightning bolts rippling across its surface. With a final exhale, I stop fighting at all, because there is always a little fight in me, and let the Dark reign.

  A sensation of feathers tickling me on the inside turns into pain as the Magiks seeps into every pore, every part of me. Something inside stirs that has long slumbered.

  My Ascension is here.

  “We awake,” I whisper, my voice the voice of thousands. My power pulses like a light blinking. “No longer shall we slumber.”

  With each word, my voice grows stronger, more powerful. The Magiks pulse again and the bubble surrounding me grows.

  ‘Let go, Iza.’ My father’s voice drifts through my mind.

  My scream turns into a roar, echoing with the anger of all who came before me. The bubble shrinks with a thunderous sound, like a Magikal back draft drawing more Magiks to it, compressing and then exploding outwards. A shockwave of pure Dark Magiks races in every direction at the speed of sound.

  My eyes close as the darkness envelopes me. Shit, this is going to hurt. Falling is the last thing I feel before oblivion takes me.

  Chapter Four

  Phobe

  “It’s started,” Sergean says softly, appearing beside me.

  His eyes are on his daughter floating in the Magikal storm above us. It is a rather entrancing sight, Iza accepting the power she will need for the future.

  Fully becoming the creature she is meant to be.

  Underneath the layers of Magiks, I can see the physical changes beginning. Her dragon half is letting some of itself out. I can see it in the black creeping along her skin and the movement underneath it.

  Iza is embracing her fate. The Shepherd is born.

  Her scream pulls at me, her roar of rage even more so. Although there are other’s voices in that roar, hers is the loudest. Hers is the strongest, and hers is the one they will fear.

  Beautiful.

  Abruptly, like a star, she flares brightly and winks out, falling from the sky. I jump to catch her. Landing in the center of the roof, her limp body in my arms, I stare down at her. I almost forgot what it feels like to hold her.

  My arms tighten around her, pulling her closer. The smell of ozone from the Magiks is strong on her. The scent of cinnamon is stronger. The fact that something as simple as smell must be beaten by her amuses me.

  Sergean studies me intently. I can feel it, but it is not he that holds my gaze. I cannot look away from her.

  “She is struggling to adjust to this, hence her delay in getting here.”

  At his statement, I give a slight nod. I know what he means. He means that she needed me and I was not here for her. My intention was not to remain gone so long, but once on the path, my task required completion. I also needed time to think.

  “For God’s sake, don’t tell her I told you either. She has a bit of a temper.” There is amusement in his tone and affection.

  Iza bonded with her father.

  Pulling my eyes away from her, I turn to look at him in his sudden silence. He tucks both his hands in his pockets. “You have changed, Darkness,” he comments, with a smile hovering about his mouth.

  I
say nothing. I do not disagree. Nor do I fully agree. The ways he believes I have changed are not going to be correct. Either way, it is not his concern.

  “Did you find what you sought?” he asks more seriously.

  Tucking Iza’s head to my shoulder, I hug her closer to my chest and then nod. There will be no more slave stones in our future, but that is not all.

  “I know you tried to free me more than once.” At my words, he exhales.

  He tried and failed several times. He is the only one ever to try. That is until his daughter came along and succeeded.

  “No matter what I did, it didn’t work,” he says, the frustration coming out in that statement.

  Clenching my jaw, I stare at the man who helped force me into slavery. I do not like him. I never will.

  I do not hate him either.

  “Did you know about her?” I ask.

  “He told me that you would save the most precious thing in the world to me one day,” he answers.

  I shake my head at those words.

  “I did not save her. She saved me.” I reply.

  Leaning down, my glamour swirling around me, I kiss the cheek of the woman who haunts me, no matter how far away I go or how long I am gone. Placing her gently in her father’s arms, I step off the roof into a pool of darkness.

  Hiding is cowardly, but I am not ready for her to see me. Yet I am not ready to leave her presence either. I am annoyed with myself for it, but I cannot deny the want to keep her in my sight.

  Hidden, I follow on silent feet and watch them from the shadows, using every skill I possess to cloak my presence.

  To be utterly honest, if I were a conscience-ridden being, I would have stayed gone. Iza can be vicious, she can be cold and loves violence, but that is not what makes up the majority who she is. She is also kind, soft-hearted. I am neither of those things.

  Since I am being honest with myself, the time away from her was the most uncomfortable experience of my life. Extremely close to being intolerable.

  This creature who fathered her will never know these things.

  Sergean carries her to an underground chamber, guided by the Sidhe. Initially, I am “kept” from following them into the room. Being what I am and as determined I am to get in, eventually I do.

  Having to fight my way in does not bother me. The Sidhe is simply protecting her, which is what it is supposed to do. With her being as vulnerable as she is right now, nothing else besides me will have the strength to get through.

  Which gets a small bit appreciation from me.

  The Fiends even contest my entry initially. I manage to persuade them without hurting them. They would die to the last one to protect her; their devotion knows no bounds. Her happiness is their happiness. Her will is their will. She is all and everything.

  I am sure Iza does not comprehend that level of loyalty.

  I do.

  My eyes eat up the sight of her lying so still and pale on the pillows. Her physical transformation is complete. She no longer has the minutest look of humanity. No one with any sense can look at her and mistake her for one ever again.

  Unless she wants them to. Her glamour is quite good.

  The black claws on her hands are now long and razor-sharp. Her skin is so pale there is a slightly blue cast to it, much like my own. Her hair is long and so bright now that it can easily be mistaken for a pool of blood across the pillow. The black Medusa Strands are alive, writhing around her head even in her slumber and separating her even further from a mortal.

  She may not have the build of a Feyrie, being rather short in comparison to them, but her real beauty comes from the look of feralness about her. That she has in spades.

  Her mouth is now wider to accommodate her bigger, sharper teeth, the ones I can see through her slightly parted lips. Her opalescent eyes are a little larger, and I know beneath her lids rest nictitating membranes. Her nose is still tiny but flatter.

  Iza has come into her Otherness. She is now more monster than a woman.

  God, she is beautiful.

  So much so that she draws my gaze over and over and holds it there with invisible strings. I fight the pull to go to her side instead of remaining here, in the shadows, watching.

  A “creeper,” she calls me. Considering how I have stalked her since I returned to this world, that word is accurate. I have indeed been creeping on her.

  Sergean walks back into view, holding a robe to cover her nudity. Her transformation burned her clothes off. I refuse to turn my back as he dresses her and pulls multicolored socks on her small clawed feet.

  Only a father thinks of socks.

  Many times, I questioned why I became aware of existence. Why was I arrogant enough to take on flesh and overthrow the very balance of things? Why, of all punishments to suffer, was bound to that stone and left at the control of the very creatures I will once again spill the blood of?

  I get it now. Iza needed me to be in that dungeon.

  Enslaved and imprisoned to wait for the woman whose heart I can feel every beat of, and through her feel everyone connected to her. Ours is an incredibly strong connection, stronger than any other I know of. Strong enough to survive my absence, the distance.

  Not once did I stop feeling her within me.

  Now it is significantly stronger.

  Iza, who does not have an arrogant bone in her body, is deep within me, unintentionally holding me to her. Anchored in a place that did not exist before her. A place created that first time I laid eyes on her.

  Something I will never again deny the existence of.

  I step out of the shadows just enough for Sergean to become aware of my presence. Even as powerful as he is, I still have a few eons on him.

  “I wondered where you got off to,” he says quietly from his position at the foot of her bed.

  “How is she?” I ask, careful not to awaken her with my voice.

  He does not need to know I was unseen.

  “Changing,” he pauses and I wait for the words to come. “Your absence had a good and bad effect. It gave her time to find herself. It also gave me time to get to know her without your overpowering presence.” His dark eyes turn to me.

  “Now that she can feel them all even at a distance she is going to be in a whole new world of pissed off,” he finishes.

  I briefly meet his eyes then look back at Iza.

  Instead of continuing the conversation, I watch the way the strands move around her face. I cannot say I like talking, especially with her father. My silence is my answer—or lack of one.

  “She will also have to deal with the rest of the Alpha and Lord bullshit of the half-breeds. She’s done well so far, but those were just fringes.” My silence does not stop him; he continues to speak.

  I look over as he crosses his arms and watches her too.

  “The two of you are a surprise,” he muses.

  To some those words would be cryptic, but I understand them. He is still undecided about my presence in her life. But this is not a discussion I am willing to have with him. Nor will I allow him to impact any of it.

  I am not undecided about my place in her life.

  “Have you heard anything about the schoth?” I ask him. Since he wants to converse, I decide to at least get the answers to questions I have. Sergean is not someone whose mind I can touch.

  The schoth I have found following her so far won’t be coming after Iza again. Ever.

  “Not so far. But they will try, soon enough. My main concern is the near future and the creatures in this realm—Kael and his lackey Romiel among them. They will be at her soon like a rash, irritating and consistent.” He sounds annoyed with the thought of it.

  Not if I have anything to do with it.

  “I’m surprised you have not killed Kael,” I say, aware of whom he speaks.

  More aware than Sergean knows. Kael is a dragon, Iza’s uncle and the self-proclaimed Dragon King. When Iza’s mother was murdered, Kael took the throne for himself instead of letting the throne
choose another ruler.

  Not that it hasn’t chosen. The dragon throne rests in the Sidhe.

  “The rules always apply,” is his response.

  Rules that I am not bound by.

  “Do you think he will wait long to come here?” I ask.

  Why has he not found a way around his precious rules? A loophole to allow him to rid himself of a menace? I will never understand why the Eldest follow the rules so carefully.

  “No. Those two have their half-brains together trying to figure out how to replace her,” he answers after a pause.

  That job will be much harder than they realize. Iza is not a pushover. Once she truly accepts this task, she will not give it up. Not without a fight.

  Kael is well-known for his greed, not for his intelligence, but he is conniving, and that makes him an obstacle.

  “Kael is the only threat out of the two. I don’t consider Romiel one. I think she has a few friends that can deal with him adequately,” he muses.

  Sergean has a point with that. She does indeed.

  “Do you know what he is planning?”

  He shakes his head at my question. “They have layers of Magiks protecting them from my gaze. I’ve been trying for years to get inside the head of that bastard.” He picks at an invisible piece of lint on his shirt sleeve. “He will not come at her straight on. He will try to come out of this with his hands as clean as possible.”

  “I could just kill him.”

  “He is mine!” he whispers fiercely.

  His eyes glow like opals and then go black, like his daughter’s. I can understand vengeance but not the risk towards Iza from him waiting for it.

  “Do not let him get in my way,” I caution.

  This will be my only warning.

  Iza stirs in her sleep, her thoughts coming to the surface. My mind automatically seeks hers out, connecting with her unprotected one. It has been so long since I felt her actual thoughts. It causes me to pause in place.

  “I will return shortly,” I whisper.

  I do not wait for his response before disappearing into the shadows. He casts one puzzled glance before turning to his daughter.

  With one last look at her face, I enshroud myself deeper in the darkness and head outside. Leaving is something I must do before I give in and do what I want to do.