Queen Of Shadows: The Shadowcrown Duet Book Two Read online

  Queen Of Shadows Copyright © 2019 Kay Elle Parker

  Published by Kay Elle Parker. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it to the seller and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  Published by Kay Elle Parker on June 21st 2019

  Cover Design © Jodielocks Designs

  This book is intended for a mature audience only.

  Queen Of Shadows

  The Shadowcrown Duet Book Two

  Prologue

  Three Months Earlier…

  Falling asleep in the bathtub wasn’t ideal, but after a grueling trip from hell, his body hadn’t given him a choice. Naked, alone, with no real understanding of how or why he was back in the Shadow realm, he barely had time to recognize his surroundings as home before sleep tugged him beneath the veil.

  Sleep where pleasant dreams eluded him and nightmares of his torment, of his brother’s, wrapped around his subconscious like snakes. Pain bit at him, physically and emotionally, as his body writhed in the bed of cold porcelain in the realm.

  Hell was a barren landscape of fire and torture, hot wind carrying screams of the eternal damned from one end of Lucifer’s territory to the other. There was no escape from them, from the agonized screams and constant pleas for mercy, just as there was no reprieve from the endless viciousness brought down upon sinners’ heads by the devil’s most skilled demons.

  They were most imaginative, those creatures who wielded weapon and word with malicious glee. They broke the body first, drawing blood however they wished, snapping limbs and gouging holes into flesh that—through the cruelty of Lucifer’s genius—healed quickly, regenerating the perfect canvas for sadistic beasts.

  Once a body was ruined, the pain threshold met and exceeded, and the healing process underway, next came the test of mental strength. It became a game of how long a mind could hold out under a demon’s twisted savagery before it fractured, spilled open, died.

  When both body and mind were destroyed beyond recognition, Lucifer wanted still more from his victims—the most precious commodity, the spirit. The conduit between the sinner and the Almighty, though many would argue a sinner in hell didn’t deserve to keep that link to a deity.

  With the triumvirate claimed—body, mind and soul—Lucifer would toss the unfortunate being back into the pool of lost and sinful souls, waiting a few interminably long days before yanking them out, hale and whole, to begin the cycle again.

  Islador jolted awake from memories of Kian’s face cast in a pained grimace as a short, sharp scream shattered the air like crystal. His Shadow warrior instincts kicked in immediately, proving why he had been the Shadow army commander before he’d been killed and fallen into Lucifer’s hands.

  Bolting upright in the tub, he scanned his surroundings with bleary eyes, searching for the threat. He found none but the slim, naked form of an angel with brilliantly blue eyes and hair white as untainted snow. His heart melted in his chest beneath the devil’s brand.

  Allianna. His Allianna.

  The last notes of her shocked scream were muffled behind the hands slapped over her mouth. Her gorgeous eyes were wide, rapidly filling with tears, and full of love and yearning. “Islador?”

  He gave her a weak smile at her breathless words. “Hey there, treasure.” Shit, his voice was an almost inaudible croak. Too much time spent in hell, he thought wearily. If he thought time in the Shadow realm was lengthy in comparison to the mortal plane, it was nothing compared to the timescale of Lucifer’s playground. “You don’t look a day older than when I last saw you.”

  Humor flashed in her eyes before the first tears fell and she leaped toward the bathtub eagerly. She looked as though she wanted to climb in on top of him, but they both knew the events over the last few days of her life wouldn’t allow her that luxury. Instead she slid to her knees beside the tub and grabbed his hand, wringing it between her own. “You’re real. Oh my God, you’re actually real.”

  How sweet it was to feel hands on his flesh that weren’t reaping pain from his body. While he wasn’t in hell to be punished officially, unlike Kian, it hadn’t stopped several sneaky minions under Lucifer’s command from taking pieces out of his hide whenever they could. “So it seems, treasure. A surprise for us both, I think.”

  “A surprise,” she murmured bitterly, “or a bribe. Fucking asshole, I’ll kill him. I swear to God I’ll kill him for this.”

  Islador braced for a fight. Realistically, he knew Antzel was no longer a threat to Allianna—he’d seen the demon being used as a toy for Lucifer’s more…deranged underlings—but that didn’t quieten his unease. The demon and his mother had escaped the devil’s realm once before, who was to say they wouldn’t again? “Who’s upset you now, Allianna?”

  “I’m not upset, I’m royally pissed.” Her fingers tightened around his before she pushed stiffly to her feet. He found it adorable how her free arm snuck up to cover her breasts—he’d seen her naked before, after all. “I’ll handle it, I promise. Once you’re settled, I will deal with the asshole in person.”

  When she reluctantly released his hand, Isla gripped the edges of the tub and tried to haul himself out. His goddamn legs wouldn’t work properly, he struggled to get his feet beneath him, and his arms trembled weakly as he cursed.

  “You’re too weak.” Allianna touched her hand to his forehead to keep him in place. “I can’t lift you, but I know someone who can.” She turned her head and shouted, “Dhur! Bathroom!”

  Infuriated with his flaw, Islador still managed a chuckle. “You kept the golem. I was hoping you would.”

  She flashed a quick smile. “More like he kept me. He’s been a godsend, Isla. One of the best decisions of your life, bringing him home to the realm.” Thunderous footsteps rushed toward the bathroom, and Allianna winced, reaching for a towel to cover herself.

  A monstrous black figure loomed in the doorway like death, casting a bigger shadow. It squeezed through the open door with care, dark eyes surveying the room until they landed on Allianna, filled with devotion and immense relief. “My lady. You’re okay?”

  Islador’s eyebrow flicked up at the obvious concern in the golem’s voice. The big oaf was loyal to his queen, that much was evident. So much so, he hadn’t noticed Isla sitting in the empty tub.

  “I’m fine, Dhur. We have a visitor.” Allianna gave Isla a grin and stepped to the side fully, wrapping the towel securely and anchoring the edges between her breasts.

  “Who…” Dhur’s puzzled gaze met Islador’s, and to Isla’s consternation, filled rapidly with tears. The room shook as Dhur stepped forward heavily, his feet smashing down on the stone floor with loud snaps of rock on rock. “Boss.”

  “Good to see you’re still standing, Dhur.”

  “You died.” It was an accusatory statement. “You died and it was my fault.”

  “What? Get that idea out of your head. I died because Antzel jabbed my buttons and I reacted. I died because my head wasn’t in the game, and he slipped under my defenses. You were doing as I ordered, Dhur, as any loyal soldier should—you were protecting your queen.”

  The golem’s obsidian lips were trembling, his thick throat working on swallows. Subtle vibrations shimmered through his powerful body.

  Allianna laid her hand on his arm, gave it a little pat. “It’s okay, Dhur. I know how you feel. You can touch him, he’s real. I promise.”

  A mournful rumble sounded from the golem’s chest, then the great mountain of onyx was on Islador in an instant, scooping his body from the porcelain and clutching him tightly, a child with a lost doll, as he wept. Never had Isla seen a creature whose origins began in hell display such emotion.

  Dhur—real name pretty much unpronounceable—was a breed apart.

  His friend rocked him, so gently Islador thought he might fall asleep with the rhythm and the soft purring sounds the golem was making beneath concealed sobs. Purrs shuddering into hard flesh beneath Isla’s cheek.

  “Take him to bed, please, Dhur. He’s exhausted and needs rest after…whatever he’s endured. I need you to stay with him while I’m gone, tend to him.” Allianna’s tone brooked no argument, was rich with command and the innate authority that came with royalty. She was obviously taking her new role as queen by the horns. “Islador doesn’t leave my chambers, Dhur, and no one knows about his return until I come back. That’s imperative.”

  “You’re going to see him.” Isla challenged as the golem carried him effortlessly from the bathroom to the bed, where sheets were rumpled from restless slumber. And, he realized as he was laid down on them, smelled deliciously of Allianna. “You think he’s going to steal me back, treasure?”

  Sh
e marched to the wardrobe. “He’s played me all along. Offered me things he never intended to give, bargained things I couldn’t relinquish in exchange for things I wanted more than anything. He’s a spoilt child, lavishing gifts where he feels appropriate or where they’ll be most effective and yanking them away again if they don’t have the desired result. Not anymore.”

  “Allianna, baby…you don’t know who you’re taking on.”

  Already half-dressed in slim red pants and a white tank top, she studied the boots in the wardrobe and chose a pair of black ones that came to just below the knee and had soles thick enough to wade through an inch of lava. “Even the devil doesn’t get to fuck me around, Islador. Lucifer needs to be made aware of just who has taken command of the Shadow realm, its crown and throne. Whose voice holds sway over the realm’s army. I am the fucking Queen of Shadows. I will be treated as an equal, not the little woman.”

  Torn between applauding her and biting his nails down to the quick over her gung-ho attitude, Islador tried to sit up. Dhur’s big hand poked him back to a prone position. “I think after your performance with Antzel, everyone in the underworld knows who holds command here, Allianna. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone.”

  She huffed and slammed the wardrobe door shut with a snap. “Evidently I do. If Lucifer thinks I’m a little girl who’s going to suck his lollipop because he gave me a pretty present, he’s going to discover how sharp my teeth are.”

  He watched her cross over to him, her gait a bit stiff and ungainly as though she was in pain and he frowned. The golem moved to the side so she could sit beside Isla and pat his hand; she jerked when his fingers closed over hers, pulled back instinctively. “Relax, treasure, it’s just me.”

  She offered a nervous laugh, eased her hand away from his. There were some issues lurking beneath the surface of her outward calm and he wanted to dig them out, eradicate them. But now was not the time. “Whatever his reasoning for sending you back to me, Isla, I’m glad he did.”

  “Be careful with him, Allianna. He’s a master manipulator.”

  “And I’m not?”

  “No. Far from it. Your actions are defined by your sense of right and wrong. Lucifer doesn’t give a shit about anything but what benefits or amuses him. He’s had centuries to perfect his craft; you’re not even three decades old.”

  “Age is just a number,” she chirped as she pushed to her feet. “And you, old man, need to close your eyes and rest. There’ll be an uproar when the realm finds out about your return, and work to be done to restore this hellhole to its former standing. I need you on top form.”

  Islador sighed, knowing he wouldn’t be able to sway her once her mind was on a certain track. “You’ll have my best, as always, my treasure.”

  “I know.” She looked as though she wanted to kiss him goodbye, but there was a wariness in her eyes that told him that sweet, casual intimacy was lost to them both. “Dhur, make sure he’s not disturbed.”

  “Yes, my lady.” The golem rumbled.

  There was a huge sense of pride as Islador watched her move into the middle of the room and summon a rolling carpet of shadows around her. They shrouded her in a protective cloak, roiling around her in a show of love and affection Kian had never been able to demand. Her control over them would become a thing of legend, Isla mused, and was born from respect rather than necessity.

  The shadows wanted to be with their mistress.

  Allianna spread her hands wide and in front of her appeared a glowing purple portal. She closed her eyes and the glow melted into a vicious red hue. Islador cringed, feeling the heat of hell radiating from the entrance to that damned place, and thanked his lucky stars he wasn’t taking that journey again. Yet.

  Without hesitation, her shadows curled around her, Allianna stepped into the portal and disappeared as the door to hell snapped shut behind her. Yes, she certainly had portals mastered.

  Left with the hulking golem hovering over him yet trying to be inconspicuous, Islador shut his eyes, offered a prayer to the Almighty, and tumbled into sleep before he realized he was gone.

  *

  The goddamn heat down here was unbearable.

  Pleased she hadn’t bothered with a jacket, Allianna hopped out of the portal without stumbling too much—portal travel really messed with her faculties sometimes—and blew out a long breath as she surveyed her surroundings. Sweat was already slicking the skin under her arms, down her back, between her breasts. She imagined in a few more minutes, she would look and smell like a sewer rat.

  Brilliant.

  The portal had dropped her on the edge of the world, it seemed. She swayed a little as she looked down over the craggy edge about a foot in front of her, and hastily stepped back. That was one long fucking drop, one she didn’t intend to take.

  Two hundred feet below her, noise swelled from the horde of demons busily attending to their work. Work that involved eternal torture if the screams and wails were any indication. It hurt her head, her heart, to listen to the plight of the damned trapped in Lucifer’s hell, but she hardened herself to it. Refused to let that particular darkness seep into her soul.

  After all, people came to hell for a reason, and that meant they’d done something to deserve their punishment. But fuck, she wished she knew how to turn on the mute button.

  “Well, what have we got here? An escapee, me thinks.”

  Something hit her in the back, one solid blow to her spine that sent her careering forward and off the damned edge. Her teeth snapped together, a scream burned her throat as for one horrible second, she was suspended above the ground, weightless and free. Then her stomach plunged, her body following immediately, and she plummeted toward the sea of blackened rock and scalding lava beneath her.

  Fuckity fuck fuck.

  Pain sliced through her shoulders, her wings fighting through flesh and bone. The agony overwhelmed her fear as her new appendages exploded with a small shower of blood, cracking like a gunshot as they extended to their full breadth in a heartbeat and sent her soaring. Thermals from the devil’s landscape lifted her higher, spiraling waves of heat carrying her further away from the ground.

  Oh, she was screwed.

  She hadn’t known the damned things were capable of supporting her weight, let alone sweeping her away. How was she supposed to steer the stupid things? Why had she not been given explicit instructions on how to use them by someone in the know before they were gifted to her?

  Too late now…

  Breathless, Allianna moved her arms in an effort to direct the wings as she had when fighting Antzel. Then, they had responded to the slightest twitch of her fingers, becoming invaluable weapons against the demon. Now, they blatantly ignored her physical directives. “Brilliant. Just fantastic.”

  The thousands of demons below her were nothing more than indistinct blobs now, their incessant noise faded to nothing and no match for the rush of air and her heartbeat in her ears.

  Something flashed among the blurred population, dragging her attention away from her ridiculous situation. Again and again, it called to her like a beacon. Sucked her in to the rhythm of the light until her wings folded back against each other and turned her into an arrow fired at the ground.

  Her intended “Oh shit, oh shit,” stood no chance of being vocalized; the force of her dive whipped away her breath, stole her voice, and ripped tears from her eyes. Never had she experienced speed like this. The fastest airplane in the world had nothing on this—she was surprised she wasn’t breaking the sound barrier.

  Her elation at returning to earth in such a manner was short lived. As her watery vision began to pick out details, such as skin color and distorted features, she realized just how fast she was traveling. Far too quickly to make a safe landing. In fact, her landing was looking like it might be a splattering.

  Of her. All over. In a bloody mess.

  The light beckoning her changed frequency, slowed. In turn, her wings began to unfurl in increments, altering her speed and the angle of descent. Instead of crashing headlong into hell, she found herself turning, gliding, circling above awestruck faces as her internal organs quivered.

  Her feet touched hard ground, but they were attached to jelly-filled legs which collapsed and sent her tumbling head over heels over rough earth. She grunted and groaned as her momentum carried her several feet, bruising and scoring soft flesh.