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 Copyright © 2024 by Alexandra St Pierre
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems,
without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual
persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Cover Illustrations copyright © 2024 by Alexandra St Pierre

Map: Moth Hawke
Editor: Veerie Edits (@vees.reads)
Sensitivity Reader: Lori-Ann Drecketts
Format/Layout: Brady Moller

ISBN Physical Paperback: 979-8-8738568-1-7

ISBN Physical Hardcover: 978-1-7390780-5-8
IS
 Contents

Trigger Warnings
Playlist

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Chapter 80
Chapter 81
Chapter 82
Chapter 83
Chapter 84
Chapter 85
Chapter 86
Chapter 87
Chapter 88
Chapter 89
Chapter 90
Chapter 91
Chapter 92
Chapter 93
Chapter 94
Chapter 95
Chapter 96
Chapter 97
Chapter 98
Chapter 99
Chapter 100
Chapter 101
Chapter 102
Chapter 103
Chapter 104
Chapter 105
Chapter 106
Chapter 107
Chapter 108
Chapter 109
Chapter 110
Chapter 111
Chapter 112
Chapter 113
Chapter 114
Chapter 115
Chapter 116
Chapter 117
Chapter 118
Chapter 119
Chapter 120
Chapter 121
Chapter 122
Chapter 123
Chapter 124
Chapter 125
Chapter 126
Chapter 127
Chapter 128
Chapter 129
Chapter 130
Chapter 131
Chapter 132
Chapter 133
Chapter 134
Chapter 135
Chapter 136
Chapter 137
Chapter 138
Chapter 139
Chapter 140
Chapter 141
Chapter 142
Chapter 143
Chapter 144
Chapter 145
Chapter 146
Chapter 147
Chapter 148
Chapter 149
Chapter 150
Chapter 151
Chapter 152
Chapter 153
Chapter 154
Chapter 155
Chapter 156
Chapter 157
Chapter 158
Chapter 159
Chapter 160
Chapter 161
Chapter 162
Chapter 163
Chapter 164
Chapter 165
Chapter 166
Chapter 167
Chapter 168
Chapter 169
Chapter 170
Chapter 171
Chapter 172
Chapter 173
Chapter 174
Loving this Series?
Acknowledgments
Glossary
About the Author
Love Dark Romance?
Deathtrap
On-Page:

Torture scenes including whippings, removal of fingernails, stabbing, flaying, and dismemberment
Murder
Gun violence
Extreme violence
Non-consensual touching/kissing
Themes of slavery

Off Page/Implied:

Rape
Implied Sexual Assault and Abuse (in some instances it is implied that the victim is underage)
To all of my readers who have shipped Kashon from day one, this one is for you.
 1. Cosmic Lottery - Evergreen (Chapter 14)
2. I Never Told You What I Do For a Living - My Chemical Romance (Rycon doing Rycon things)
3. Suffering - Melrose Avenue (Chapter 31)
4. Like a Villain - Bad Omens (Chapter 37)
5. No More - Dirtwire, Moontricks (Rycon doing Rycon things)
6. Prodigal Daughter - Lights (Raven)
7. Kingdom of Cards - Bad Omens (Rycon)
8. Animal I Have Become - Three Days Grace (Chapter 47)
9. Lilith (feat. SUGA of BTS) - Halsey, SUGA (Chapter 66)
10. cult leader - KiNG MALA (Raven)
11. Dark Matter - Rivals (Chapter 77)
12. Car’s Outside - James Arthur (Chapter 93)
13. Broken - The Devil Wears Prada (Chapter 101)
14. Gasoline - Halsey (Chapter 108)
15. Fall For Me - Sleep Token (Chapter 114)
16. Somewhere Over the Rainbow - Israel Kamakawiwo’ole (Chapter 121)
17. Free Animal - Foreign Air (Chapter 125)
18. Lose Control - Teddy Swims (Chapter 133)
19. Every Colour - Luca Fogale (Chapter 135)
20. Sugar - Sleep Token (Chapter 148)
21. I Found - Amber Run (Chapter 149)
22. Iris - The Goo Goo Dolls (Chapter 164)
23. you should see me in a crown - Billie Eilish (Chapter 165)
24. Vor í Vaglaskógi - KALEO (Chapter 169)
25. Beige - Yoke Lore (Chapter 172)
 Amon

I
was no stranger to torture. Having spent over two hundred years serving Ash Nevra, I’ve witnessed, experienced, and
conducted unspeakably horrible and painful things in her name. I’ve bled, violated, and beaten victims in an effort to keep
up appearances. However, I was not always successful in my efforts to please the Queen. In those instances, it was I who
had played the part of the victim.
Often, it was my bones that were broken or my skin that was flayed. I’ve had fingernails and teeth removed only to have
them magickally mended and torn out again. I’ve been raped and stabbed and cut down. If you can imagine it, I have lived it.
As I said, I am no stranger to torture.
Looking into Ash Nevra’s crimson eyes as she stood before me, I knew I would once again be facing all these things and
more… but none of that scared me anymore.
It would all pale in comparison to the pain of having to witness the look on Raven’s face as Ash Nevra wrapped the
slavery bond around me.
She had taken me away. Separated me from my mate, whom I had finally managed to claim as mine after nearly a century of
waiting.
Daemons were born as only one half of a whole. When a daemon finds their other half, the bond is primal and absolute.
Being taken away from Raven, so soon after having officially mated with her, was the most unbearable pain I have ever
experienced.
It felt as if the fabric of my soul had been torn in two, and I was leaking the very substance that allowed me to exist all over
the cold stone floor. It was taking every single ounce of strength I had not to let Ash Nevra see the irrevocable and all-
consuming agony I was experiencing, painted on my face.
She stood before me in her silk dress, legs spread wide enough that the slit up the side pushed all the way up to her hip.
 The underground room she had magicked me away to was nondescript, dark and windowless. The walls were damp and
reflected the burn of the wall sconces－ the only source of light in the otherwise miserable space.
“My Shadow,” she purred, stroking her crimson tipped fingers down the side of my face. “Mine at last.”

ASH NEVRA RAN HER NAILS LIGHTLY DOWN MY CHEEK, RIGHT OVER THE TRACE THAT RAVEN HAD PLACED THAT DAY IN THE ABBEY
house. Due to the triquetra that Kieran placed around my neck the moment we had landed in this disgusting dungeon, Raven’s
trace was now rendered useless. Ash Nevra had not allowed me to see anything outside of the stone walls of this chamber. I
had no idea where we were, or whose court we were in.
She had not needed to tie me to the cold steel chair that I sat in, she had only needed to order it.
The slavery bond was not like anything I had experienced before. It coiled around me like wire on an electric fence. One
move in the wrong direction, and it would eviscerate me. There was no room to disobey, no room to resist. If she asked me to
sit, any thought or move to do anything else, I had quickly learned, was unbearable. The pain was so deep and so crippling that
I knew if I tried to push through, I very well might lose consciousness. This was not something I could afford to have happen. I
needed to think, to plan, and figure out how to get out of this.
The first step was learning the parameters of this bond. I knew from being around her slaves for so long, that I would at
least still be able to speak. The bond could not control speech, only actions. I supposed there was really no need for the bond
to control a slave’s speech. Self-censorship tended to be a by-product of the fear and control she was able to instill into those
who had no other choice but to stab themselves to death if she told them to.
“What do you have planned?” I asked dryly. I forced my voice to stay even, despite the fact that every inch of me was on
fire. The bond snapped and crackled around me, violently corralling my body into complete and utter obedience. It wanted me
to be still, so I would be still.
“That is for me to know, and for you to wonder, my Dark Prince.” She cooed. She stepped forward on her stilettoed feet,
before straddling my lap. The slit of her liquid silk dress hiked further up her thigh. She put a hand on each of my shoulders as
she slowly lowered herself down to sit on top of me, her lips inches from mine. I could not move, and I held my breath. The
revulsion I felt at her touch was palpable. Gently, almost reverently, she fingered the mating stone that hung around my neck.
“If your mate surrenders and swears allegiance to me, maybe I will allow you to return to her.” She sighed. “This is such
ugly business.”
Let me go? I almost laughed at the lie. It was a lie I had told my own victims countless times, when it had suited me.
It was a fairytale. A tactic.
“Don’t insult me. You and I both know you will never willingly let me go.”
Without warning, she ripped the mating stone from my neck, her demeanor changing from sultry and coy, to deadly and
violent. I physically felt the loss of the emerald pendant as she tore it away. It was the last piece of Raven I had. Now, I was
truly alone.
Ash Nevra grabbed my face, and ground herself into my lap before running her tongue firmly and possessively across my
mouth.
Pain seared down the back of my neck as I reflexively tried to pull away.
The slavery bond forced me to remain still, and my skin erupted in gooseflesh as my body struggled to reconcile the
proximity of the monster that straddled my lap and my inability to push her off me.
“You’re right, my little Shadow.” She hissed, nearly speaking directly into my mouth. “I will never let you go.”
 Raven

T
he widowmaker’s head hung from a single bloody sinew. Rycon snarled, his voice reverberating off the damp stone walls
of the cell. We had been in the dungeons of The Court of Pride for several hours trying to get it to tell us what it knew.
“Stop fucking decapitating it Kitten. It can’t talk with its throat slit.” Rycon grabbed the creature’s greasy hair and
pulled its head up. He lined its throat back up to its shoulders, allowing the monster to regenerate more easily.
I squeezed the handles of my blades so hard I could feel my knuckles pop. There was a deep, hateful, blaze of energy that
had ignited in my chest. Rage flooded every inch of my body and coated my very bones. I could barely breathe past the burning
fire in my lungs. Every fiber of my being was screaming at me to kill, to destroy, to burn.
I had felt like this once before, and it had nearly cost me my life. The only reason it hadn’t was because Amon had saved
me. This painful thought scored through my mind, slicing into the already gaping wound that was his absence. He wasn’t here to
save me now. I knew if I let go, I would take everyone with me, and I couldn’t allow that. I had to keep it together. I had to get
them back. I had to get my mate back.
I couldn’t get him back if I tore the entire planet to shreds. I crushed my eyes closed and took a deep breath in through my
nose, and out through my mouth while counting to ten.
“That’s it, Kitten. Keep it together, you need to stay in control.” Rycon smirked at me once I had successfully pushed back
the billowing clouds of midnight that kept threatening to overtake my vision. “It hurts more if you go slow anyways.” He said,
referring to the torture we were currently inflicting on the widowmaker.
His words helped calm me, as he had known they would. Rycon knew what I needed because it was what he needed too.
Our bond was wide open, and our anger bled together. We were fueling each other, while simultaneously keeping one another
from losing it entirely.
“Pass me a blade.” His tone was all business as he held out a hand, his blunt nails coated in chipped black polish. I took
another deep breath before handing him one of the twin blades Amon had gifted me before Ash Nevra stole him away. I
watched, still forcing myself to breathe in a slow and controlled manner as the shifter lay the edge of the knife against one of
the widowmaker’s forearms.
There was no risk of it injuring us. I had severed its long deadly fingers almost the moment we had entered the cell. They
still danced and jerked across the ground, like headless cockroaches.
The fiend flinched and tried to pull away from Rycon, but my shadows held it in place. It tried to scream; however, its
vocal cords must not have healed yet, so all that came out was a thick garbling sound.
Black, inky blood bubbled through its teeth and slid down its child-like face. Rycon laid the blade almost flat against the
thing’s arm and looked up at me, his golden cat eyes flashing in the dirty light of the cell.
“Like this,” he instructed me, before sliding the sharp edge of the knife under the monster’s skin and pulling a long, white
strip of flesh away from its arm as if he were merely peeling an apple. The monster’s voice box sprang back to life just in time
for Rycon to toss the inky strip onto the ground with a grotesque, wet, slap.
I watched the monster twist and struggle against my shadows, a cold sickening pleasure coiling around my heart at the sight
of the widowmaker’s agony. It screamed and screamed, and I felt myself smile.
Rycon’s own lips curled at the look on my face before he stood back, gesturing to the widowmaker’s prone form. “Now
you try,” he said.
I glanced at him, hesitating. He nodded his head once in encouragement. “You got this, don’t let yourself lose control. Flay
a piece and ask it where that bitch is keeping them.”
If I hadn’t been so filled with rage, I might have wondered how I had come to this point. How had I come to find myself
standing in this disgusting dungeon, being taught how to properly torture someone for information? It wasn’t that long ago that
my biggest problem was my chronic tendency to get into fights at school. Now, somehow the fate of two worlds seemed to
depend on me finding a way to stop a daemon hell queen. Apparently at the cost of the moral degradation of my own soul.
What was worse, was the fact that I didn’t care. I didn’t care about the fate of any world if Amon wasn’t in it. This fucking
spider was going to tell me where he was, or I would throw it into the mouth of Mount Frira and watch it melt.
I stepped forward, laying my blade against its other arm. It jerked away from me, before realizing that only moved it closer
to Rycon.
It screamed again. “My mistress will punish you!” Its voice was like nails on glass, tearing against my eardrums as I
pressed the edge of the blade under its skin, lifting it away from the flesh like Rycon had shown me.
“Where is your mistress?” I asked as I slowly peeled the skin back. The creature’s screams intensified, and I found myself
biting back a smile as I pulled. “Tell me, and maybe I’ll stop.” I didn’t recognize my own voice. It was like ice. Cold, and
unrecognizable. I felt like I was far away, and someone else was using my mouth to say the words. But it wasn’t someone else.
It was me.
This was all me and I wasn’t sorry.
The widowmaker seemed to lose the ability to form words, its voice shattered around us as I tossed the bloody strip of skin
on the ground. We stared at each other over the thrashing fiend and I could see a flicker of pride flash in his eyes.
“Good.” He murmured, before looking back down at the monster, his face darkening, and I felt the ice-cold sting of his own
rage leak through the bond. Rycon loved violence and was normally in a relatively good mood when he had the opportunity to
hurt or kill something. To see him this angry while we tortured the widowmaker spoke volumes. The memory of him crawling
across the ground towards Kasha before Kieran took her away to sell her back into the sex trade ripped through my mind, and I
had to close my eyes again.
Inhale. One, two, three, four, five.
Exhale. One, two, three, four, five.
When I had learned to breathe in anger management, never once did it occur to me that I would need to rely on these skills
in a situation like this. Rycon waited patiently for me to finish my breathing exercises. When I was done, he laid the blade I had
lent him against the widowmaker’s arm once more and gestured for me to do the same.
He made eye contact with me across the monster’s quivering form.
“Again.” He said softly, before another blood curdling scream tore from the widowmaker’s throat.
 Raven

“R ayven?” Conrad’s tired voice pierced through the incessant screaming, causing me to pause my work on the
widowmaker’s chest. I had run out of skin on its arm, and it wasn’t healing fast enough for me to continue. So, I had been
forced to work my way up towards its neck.
It still hadn’t told us anything useful and I was beginning to lose what small shred of patience I had left. If it didn’t talk
soon, I was going to cut its head off again, no matter what Rycon said. My blade paused at the sound of Conrad’s voice, but I
didn’t turn around.
“You’re awake.” I said softly, relief flooding through me. I battled with myself. Do I put the knife down and make sure
Conrad really was okay? Or flay another piece of skin? Would this piece be the one that made it talk? Would this strip of skin
be the last straw before the creature finally broke? I imagined this must be what it would feel like to have an addiction. It was a
compulsive need, an urgent voice in my head, whispering over and over again; just one more slice, just one more piece and
you will have what you need.
“Rayven. Put down di knife.” Conrad said, and I shook my head as the distant sound of waves washed over me.
He was upset. I could always tell when he was upset.
I looked up at Rycon, who was glaring at the Obeah Man over my shoulder. He however, had also paused his work on the
widowmaker’s flesh. His work was much cleaner than mine. More practiced.
“Go upstairs, Conrad.” I glowered, still refusing to face him. “I’ll be up in a bit.” Suddenly, I felt his warm hand close
around my shoulder and I jumped, spinning around. Before I knew what I was doing, the blade was pressed against his throat.
I was holding a knife to Conrad’s throat.
I gasped and immediately dropped the knife. It clattered to the ground and the sharp tang of the steel against stone seemed to
pull me from the trance-like state I had entered.
 I hadn’t meant to do that.
Conrad didn’t flinch and the absolute trust he had that I wouldn’t hurt him felt like a slap in the face.
“Conrad, I’m so sorry- I didn’t mean…” My voice cracked, and he looked at me like he was worried I might break at any
moment.
“Mi know, gyall, it’s ‘aight.” He murmured gently. “Yuh ‘aight.”
Everything felt like it was too much. My power and rage were bubbling up inside me and I felt like my heart was about to
smash right out of my chest.
I was losing control.
The Obeah Man looked like he was debating whether or not to try touching me again before raising his warm brown gaze
over my shoulder to meet Rycon’s. I didn’t miss the way his eyes took in the barely conscious widowmaker; which was now
missing nearly a third of its skin.
I knew he was mentally speaking to Rycon, and that I wasn’t invited to the metaphysical conversation, but I couldn’t bring
myself to care. There wasn’t enough room for me to care about anything other than getting Amon and Kasha back. But I was
already failing. I had been down here for what felt like hours, and I hadn’t learned even one useful thing. My eyes stung with
tears and my shadows whipped around me in agitation.
“Take a break, Kitten.” Rycon said abruptly from behind me. My head whipped around, and the look on his face was grave.
“The Obeah Man is right. Go chill with your pops for a bit. I’ll finish up here.”
My pops?
Jeremy, he was referring to Jeremy.
Suddenly the barely controlled panic and rage was replaced with a rush of guilt. How long had I been down here? I had left
Jeremy upstairs, in a strange new world, surrounded by daemons and magick folk he didn’t know at all. I glanced back at
Conrad and he bent down to pick up my blade from the ground, handing it back to me hilt first. I winced as the widowmaker
blood on the blade stained his fingertips.
I wiped the blade off on my thigh, and Conrad held his hand out to me.
“I’ll bring your other one up when I’m done.” Rycon called after us as Conrad led me out of the cell. I frowned, suddenly
realizing that if I left, my shadows would need to come with me.
“What will you do for restraints?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. Rycon grinned, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“You know I like it when they fight back.” He winked at me. Finally, I nodded and let Conrad tug me away. I glanced back
one last time to see the shifter turn his attention back to the cowering widowmaker. He was no longer smiling.
“Alone at last.” He purred to the fiend. We turned the corner just as the screaming started up again.

THE COMMON ROOM WAS EMPTY. I NEARLY PHYSICALLY STAGGERED WITH THE BLOW OF THE EMPTINESS OF IT . NO KASHA. NO
Amon. I kept feeling like I would see him waiting for me around every corner, in every hallway. I saw him looking out over our
court when I walked past the pit, I caught a flash of silver hair down the hall ahead of us as we made our way towards our
room.
‘Hello, Raven,’ I could almost hear him greet me as the door swung open to what used to be his bedroom but had recently
become our bedroom. My aura bled out into the space, and I realized with a start that it was looking for him.
I was half of a whole, a body without a soul. A heart without a beat.
“He’s not here.” I whispered, not sure who I was talking to.
He was gone.
“Rayven,” Conrad said softly, and I turned to face him, my eyes filled with unshed tears. He was looking at me with so
much empathy and love, I could barely stand it.
“Why don’t yuh get cleaned up, mi get Jeremy. Yuh two can reconnect.”
I nodded, doing my best not to let the tears spill down my face. Conrad put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “Wi will
get dem back, Rayven. Nuh worry.” He promised me, before turning and heading off to find my father.
I made my way into the adjoining cave-like bathroom that had been carved out of the same black volcanic stone that the rest
of the palace had been molded from. I avoided the bubbling hot spring, where just hours before, he had loved me into oblivion
and told me I was his Queen.
Instead, I crawled into the golden claw footed tub. My armor peeled itself off me before I collapsed into the bottom of the
basin, curling in on myself. It wasn’t a conscious effort, but my shadows turned on the water for me and I ran my hands over my
face as the water poured down around me. My fingers brushed against my cheek and I suddenly had an idea. The day Amon had
taught me how to place a trace, I had put one on his cheek as practice. Could I use it to find him?
 Hope stirred in my chest, and I slammed my eyes shut. I forced my mind to still and found the quiet state or Eriene.
My magick pooled and slipped through me, sliding up to my cheek in the mirror spot of where I had placed the trace on
Amon. I followed the thread of my shadows as they tore down the magickal line I had installed to connect us.
I grew more and more excited as I flowed further and farther down the metaphysical connection.
Was this going to actually work?
Anger and frustration tore through me as my power slammed into a wall of blackness. There was nothing here. It was just a
yawning darkness, much like it had been when I tried to find Jeremy after Ash Nevra had already kidnapped him.
I knew now what this meant. She had put a triquetra on him. I slammed against the wall of blackness, over and over again,
until my aura was raw, and my planets were broken. When I finally came to terms with the fact that I was not going to be able
to break through, I came back to my corporeal body.
Finally, I let go. The water pounded down around me, drowning out the violent sobs that wracked through my chest. My
fists wound into my dark hair as I curled deeper and deeper into my grief. For a moment, I allowed myself to wonder if it was
truly possible to die from a broken heart.
 Raven

“R aven?” I heard Jeremy call out to me from the bedroom. I squeezed my eyes shut and took a deep breath under the steady
stream of water before forcing myself to respond.
My voice sounded as shaky as I felt. “Be right out!” For a moment, it was like we were back in Toronto, and he was
calling me down for dinner with him and Clair. The added memory of my dead mother on top of this new, impossibly large
weight of loss almost pushed me right back into a pit of despair.
Forcing myself to swim against the relentless current of grief that was wrecking my insides, I sat up in the shower and
asked my shadows to turn off the water. Wrapping myself in the biggest towel I could find and piling my wet hair up on top of
my head, I padded out to see my father. He was standing in jeans and a blood-stained T-shirt, waiting for me.
“Hey Dad,” I croaked, my voice cracking. He took in my red eyes and immediately softened.
“Hey Kiddo, come here.” He murmured, stepping forward and pulling me into him. I wrapped my arms around his waist
and broke down again. The sobs were deep and raw, and he held me firmly against him while I cried. He made soothing sounds
while rocking me gently back and forth. After what felt like an eternity, I finally pulled away and sniffed.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, and he shook his head, looking down at me like he never wanted to lose sight of me again.
“Don’t be, none of this is your fault.” He told me. But that wasn’t true. All of this was my fault. I was responsible. It had
been my decision to push forward. My decision to give them The Flute. And now Amon was gone, Kasha was suffering
unimaginable abuse somewhere and that fucking spider wouldn’t tell me where. Instead of telling him all this, I just shook my
head and swallowed.
“I need to get dressed.” I said, glancing up at him. He nodded.
“Of course, I can wait outside until you’re done.” He said, heading out to the hall to give me some privacy.
I made my way to the armoire that held all my clothes. Amon had magicked it into our room only nights ago, when we had
solidified our mating bond. I opened it, hoping to find my favorite knit sweater, but what was inside almost took me to my
knees. His clothes were hanging in there, next to mine. Several collared shirts in varying shades of green and black. The scent
of cinnamon floated out from the armoire, settling around me like a warm summer breeze, nearly making me lose my balance.
The strangled cry that escaped my throat summoned Jeremy back to my side as I stumbled away from the wardrobe, clutching
my towel to my chest.
“What happened? What’s wrong?” He asked, panicked, looking back and forth between me and the seemingly innocent
wardrobe.
“His clothes,” I pointed a shaking finger at the wardrobe, tears filling my eyes once more. “He put my clothes next to his.
We were… were supposed to share…” I couldn’t get the words out. I was shaking, my aura buckled and several of my tiny
stars went supernova. Being human, Jeremy couldn’t see my aura, but he could see that his daughter was in pain.
“Go sit down,” he told me softly, gesturing to the bed. “I will pick something for you to wear.” I nodded dumbly, moving in
what felt like a daze back to the large king size bed before sitting on the edge, staring straight ahead.
In through your nose, out through your mouth.
“Here,” Jeremy said, laying down a pair of comfortable black cotton pants and an oversized long sleeve black t-shirt. He
had even chosen a fresh pair of underwear for me, which might have embarrassed me a few months ago. At the moment, I was
just grateful he had been here to help me.
“Get dressed, I’ll wait outside, then we can talk.” Jeremy said, before once again leaving to give me privacy.

“READY,” I CALLED OUT ONCE I HAD CHANGED , AND HE CAME BACK INTO THE ROOM. IT WAS STRANGE, BEING AROUND A HUMAN
again. I hadn’t noticed it, but after living with daemons, shifters and magick folk for so long, the abrupt, predictable, and almost
endearingly clumsy movements of the human that was Jeremy made me feel incredibly homesick. I wasn’t sure if it was the
human world that I was missing, or just how much simpler my life had been when I had thought that I was a part of that world.
Jeremy settled down on the edge of the bed with me, putting his arm around my shoulder and kissing the side of my head.
“I’m so glad that you’re alive.” He murmured against my hair. I couldn’t respond. I didn’t know what to say. Yes, I was
alive, but at what cost? Clair was dead. Amon was gone. Kasha was enslaved. Both worlds were in mortal danger and so far, I
hadn’t made one decision that had seemed to make it better. It had just been failure after fucking failure.
“Why don’t you tell me how we got here, Raven. Tell me what happened.” He somehow looked older than when I had last
seen him, even though it hadn’t been that long ago. I hesitated for a moment, not knowing where to start, or how to tell him it
was my fault his wife was dead. It was my fault he had been kidnapped and taken here. It was my fault he was on paid leave at
work… Everything was all my fault.
Finally, I shook myself off and decided to tell him because he deserved to know. And if I couldn’t give him Clair back, I
could at least give him the truth.
So, I started at the beginning. I told him how Conrad had walked into my anger management class that day and turned my
whole world upside down. I told him about the prophecy in the library and that Amon was my mate. I told him that Clair was a
witch that belonged to an old bloodline of magick folk, and that she had emancipated herself 18 years ago, triggering my
supernatural birth.
I told him about the deal she had made with Amon, to adopt and raise me until my power manifested. I told him about being
kidnapped by Rycon, and how I had come to be bonded to him. I told him how I had been tortured, and how I had held Clair
when she had died. I told him about Ash Nevra, and The Board and Olkuyrbe and how I was supposed to be the heir to The
Dominion of Sin. I told him the truth, and that all I really wanted was to be able to save the people I loved, but I just couldn’t
seem to do that.
When I was done, I was sure he would be disgusted. I waited for the other foot to drop. I waited for him to yell at me and
tell me that I should be ashamed of myself. That he could never forgive me for failing Clair. I waited and waited for the words
that didn’t come. Instead, he turned to me, and rested his hands on both of my shoulders, before looking me dead in The Eyes.
“When people are so horrible to you that you want to give up, remember, that’s what they want you to do. We don’t give
people like that what they want, Raven. We don’t ever give up.”
 Raven

R
ycon kicked the door open, and both Jeremy and I jumped. He was covered in widowmaker blood and holding a
screaming black box. All things considered, he seemed to be in a relatively good mood. His eyes lit up when they landed
on my father and a grin spread across his face, exposing his pointed canines.
“Hey Pops,” he greeted Jeremy, who glowered at him as he stood up.
“You,” Jeremy snarled, and I was struck with the realization that I probably shouldn’t have told him that Rycon had
kidnapped me. All of the anger and rage I had expected Jeremy to unleash on me was suddenly redirected. I groaned.
“Dad, leave Rycon alone.” I didn’t know how to explain that we were so far past his kidnapping that it wasn’t even worth a
discussion. I glanced up at Rycon apologetically, and he looked confused for a moment before processing my thoughts through
the bond. He dropped the screaming box, which I assumed held the widowmaker’s head, before rolling his eyes.
“You told him?” He asked me incredulously.
Jeremy scoffed. “She told me everything.”
Rycon raised an eyebrow, “I really doubt she told you everything.”
“Rycon,” I warned. The tone of my voice caused him to pause, his golden gaze met mine and a dangerous little smirk
spread across his face.
“Did she tell you she’s mated to the Prince of Pricks?”
“Rycon. Shut up.” I growled, glaring at him with everything I had. Jeremy narrowed his eyes.
“She mentioned it, yes.” His tone was cold, despite the fact he didn’t fully understand the implications of a mating bond. I
hadn’t gotten into the details around it, and was nervous to tell him the full truth.
“Did she also tell you that for daemons to mate they have to-”
“OKAY!” I interrupted, my entire face flushing red. “That’s enough.” I snapped, and Rycon chuckled. Jeremy just looked
angry and confused. I glanced down at the box, which was literally hopping and bouncing in place.
“Is that..?”
“Yeah,” Rycon nodded, handing me back my blade. He threw his hands up over his head in a lazy stretch and yawned. “It
still wouldn’t talk. But I told it about your idea of throwing it into the volcano and that honestly seemed to be the only thing that
really scared it. Maybe we should take another trip to Mount Frira.” He suggested, and I suddenly felt hopeful.
“I don’t want you going anywhere with him,” Jeremy snapped, turning to me. I raised my eyebrows in shock for a moment
at the tone of his voice. He was my dad, of course he would want to protect me from someone who had kidnapped me and tried
to murder me… twice. Both Rycon and I winced as the thoughts spilled through my mind. However, I didn’t really have the
luxury of being parented anymore. Jeremy looked back and forth between us, his eyes narrowing. I felt like he was starting to
catch on to how deep the bond ran between us.
“Don’t know how much she’s really told you, Pops, but Raven is Queen of the fucking world. Not sure you have the
authority to order her around anymore. Plus, we’re bonded. Trust me, this arrangement wasn’t exactly what I would have
chosen for myself either. But here we are.” He smirked at a furious Jeremy before turning to me. He gestured to the box. “If it’s
not going to talk, we need to dispose of it. As long as it’s here, Ash Nevra has a direct line into the palace.”
I nodded, picking the box up before heading towards the door, determination suddenly swelling in my chest. He was right. I
needed to get rid of this thing if it wasn’t going to be useful. If I was going to save Amon and Kasha, we needed a game plan.
“Let’s gather the rest of the team and figure out our next move.” I said. I glanced back at Jeremy, nodding my head towards
the door, indicating that I wanted him to come too. I could tell he was struggling to process this new dynamic.
Rycon clapped him on the shoulder on his way by and Jeremy took a very clear step away from him, a look of disgust
blooming on his face.
“Raven… this is insane.” Jeremy said, his voice stern. I glanced back at him and sighed.
“I know it is. But you were right. We have to do something. We can’t let her win. She wants me to fall apart. I can’t do that,
and honestly, Rycon is a good ally to have on our side.” I looked him up and down. His dark hair was dripping in widowmaker
blood and he was still wearing his restructium armor. He looked every bit as deadly as he actually was.
The truth was, I would always choose Rycon as an ally over an enemy. Especially after the last few months together. He
was family now. There wasn’t any going back for either of us and we both knew it.
I glanced at Jeremy and tried to lighten the mood with a rueful smile.
“He’s… an acquired taste.” I admitted and Rycon scoffed, looking offended.
“Yeah, fuck you too,” he snorted before flipping me off and shoving me into the door frame as he made his way out of the
room. I stumbled slightly as he swiped the violently shaking box out of my arms with a smirk. I rolled my eyes.
Asshole.
“You coming, Pops?” Rycon called over his shoulder. “You’ll probably like the Obeah Man better than me. He’s a lot less
fun.”
I paused, waiting to see what my dad would do. After a beat, he finally shook his head in defeat.
“Fine.” He mumbled. “Let’s go.”
 Raven

I
summoned the team with my aura, asking them to meet me in the common room, the way I had seen Amon do countless
times before. By the time we arrived, Dossidian and Conrad were already waiting for us. Meredith and the daemon I had
brought back from The Origin’s palace were missing. I frowned, concerned.
“Is she still unconscious?” I asked Dossidian. He immediately knew who I was referring to and nodded solemnly.
“Aye. Meredith is tending to her. I will update her after.”
“What are we going to do after she wakes up?” I asked, pursing my lips. I didn’t want to have to say it out loud, but she
was a slave. I wasn’t sure how the slavery bonds worked but I assumed that meant Ash Nevra could use the daemon as a
weapon against us while she was here.
Dossidian frowned. “From what Meredith tells me, at this stage we will be lucky if she wakes up at all.”
I cringed at the bite of guilt that shot through me. Her death would be on my hands if she doesn’t wake up. I had stabbed her
in the chest while escaping the palace, thinking she was an animated corpse sent to attack me.
“Rayven is right, though,” Conrad said. “Wi need to find a way to free har. Not just her, but for when wi save Prince Amon
an’ Kasha too.”
I smiled at him, appreciating the fact that he said ‘when’ we save them, and not ‘if’.
“Agreed.” Nodding resolutely, I gestured to the box in Rycon’s arms before continuing. “We also need to dispose of the
widowmaker. I’m taking its head to Mount Frira. If that doesn’t kill it, then I don’t know what will.” I announced, and
Dossidian raised his eyebrows.
“Perhaps I should take it. You have matters here that need your attention.” He informed me, and I tried not to look as
shocked as I felt.
“What do you mean?” I couldn’t think of anything more important than disposing of the monster that had cost me my mate
and my friend.
“You are Queen of The Dominion, Raven. Amon has been captured and his court needs someone to rule. You are his mate,
and we are on the brink of war. You need to start thinking about gathering allies. One of our sentries has informed me that there
are already rumors that The Court of Gluttony has declared allegiance to Ash Nevra. This is a massive blow. They have a
considerable army and are responsible for a large percentage of our food imports. When they inevitably cease to trade with us,
we will need to figure out how we are going to feed our people. It would also be wise to cease our restructium exports.
There’s no sense in sending our enemies armor.”
I felt like someone had just dumped an entire bucket of cold water on my head. It hadn’t even occurred to me that I would
need to worry about things like trade deals and building an army.
“Jesus,” Jeremy cursed softly, rubbing his hand down his face. “This is really… real.” He said, almost as if he were trying
to convince himself he wasn’t dreaming. I touched his hand gently. I remembered how overwhelmed I had been when I had
learned how the world really worked.
“Told ya,” Rycon said. “She’s Queen of the world. Literally.” He flopped down into the conversion pit and frowned at the
empty table. It was normally piled with food. Another wave of grief rolled through me. Amon was not here to magick the food
to the room. I didn’t even know how he did that.
“I don’t know how to do any of that,” I admitted to Dossidian, feeling lost and overwhelmed. “I don’t even know how to
magick food onto the table.” I did know how to throw the widowmaker’s head into a volcano. That felt like a much more
achievable goal.
Dossidian smiled at me kindly and waved a hand at the table. It filled with a bountiful spread of bread, meats, and cheeses.
Rycon smirked and immediately started making a sandwich. I wrinkled my nose at him. How he had an appetite after flaying
that monster for hours was beyond me. I also suddenly felt a twinge of anxiety. If what Dossidian had said was true, and we
would be facing a food shortage, perhaps we should start rationing… watching Rycon bite into his sandwich made me feel a
pang of guilt.
“I am here to help while you learn.” Dossidian told me. The box that Rycon had dropped into the pit jumped again as the
widowmaker’s head thrashed around inside. Jeremy looked a bit pale.
“Still, I would like to be the one to take it to Frira.”
Dossidian pursed his lips, “I don’t think that is wise. There is much we need to do that should take precedence. Ash Nevra
has The Flute. As long as she has it, she will always have the power to disarm and incapacitate us. We need to start
campaigning to the other courts for allyship sooner rather than later. Ash Nevra will waste no time building her army. We also
need to research ways to sever the slavery bonds, as Conrad mentioned. Otherwise, any battles we fight will result in the loss
of thousands of innocent lives.”
The box shook again, and I felt a strange pull in my chest. I turned to gaze out of the cavernous hole in the wall that afforded
us such a breathtaking view of The Court of Pride.
“I will not be able to sleep unless I see it go in with my own eyes.” I told him, trying to be honest. During the last few
months, while I had been falling in love with Amon, the angry beast that lived in my chest had been absent.
It was back.
And it was hungry.
It needed vengeance, and if I didn’t feed it, it would spill out and hunt for itself, with or without my permission.
Looking at Jeremy, I suddenly felt afraid. Not of the widowmaker, or Ash Nevra, but of myself and what I might do if I
were to completely lose control. I couldn’t let that happen.
Rycon piped up again from where he sat in the pit, enjoying his sandwich.
“I don’t see what the big deal is. Let her go to Frira, it won’t take long. When she gets back, she can start worrying about
the rest of the world. Give her a break, she’s lost enough. If this is what she needs to do to feel better, let her fucken do it.”
I glance over at Rycon, surprised at the fact that he had come to my defense, but he was just watching Dossidian intently.
“Mi agree wit di cat.” Conrad said, surprising me even more. That was a sentence I had never thought I would hear come
out of his mouth. “Mi tink she needs tuh do dis, it might help wit di… anger.” He murmured, wincing apologetically as he
spoke. I wasn’t offended, he was right. “In di mean time, mi can go petition with Di Board for an audience. Mi know Di Board
have many powerful artifacts like di Lens in their archives. Maybe der’s someting we can use to help us overcome the power
of Di Flute. Mi also must let them know about the war dat is looming. The Board would be powerful allies tuh have on our
side.”
I perked up. “That’s a great idea, Conrad.” I beamed at him, and he gave me a solemn smile. I turned to Dossidian with
hope. I didn’t need his permission to move forward with any type of plan, but he was my friend, and I wanted him to follow me
because he wanted to, not because I ordered him to. He looked at me for a long moment, and I could nearly feel the sadness and
concern radiating off of him.
“I hear what you’re saying, Dossidian,” I said quietly, “but nothing is more important to me than getting them back. I will
not put anything else before their safe return. It’s not negotiable. Right now, knowing that she can potentially still spy on us and
use that information to hurt them while she has them… I can’t stand it.” Dossidian ran a giant palm down his face and stepped
closer to me, he cuffed my shoulder and bent down to my level, his dark eyes swimming with emotion.
“I know that, my little Queen,” he said roughly, “but Amon would not want you to forsake the wellbeing of his court in
favor of his rescue.”
“I won’t. Like Rycon said, this won’t take me long. I’ll feed the fiend to Frira and be back before you can say ‘Origin.’” I
tried to smile to lighten the mood. Finally, after a long moment, he nodded.
“Alright. You should go as soon as you can, I will take Conrad across The Veil while you are gone so that we may speak
with Walter Abbey and work to get a meeting with the Sorcerer General.” He turned to Rycon. “What will you do?”
Rycon threw his now empty hands back behind his head and kicked his feet up onto the table. I wrinkled my nose again. His
dirty boots were inches away from a plate of fluffy croissants.
“Get your feet off the table.” Jeremy snapped, I glanced at him, surprised by the outburst. I braced myself for Rycon’s
inevitable rebuttal, but to my surprise, he did what Jeremy said without comment. Resting his elbows on his knees, the shifter
looked over at me.
“If you’re going to the volcano and both Dossidian and the Obeah Man are going across The Veil, someone should stay here
with Meredith and the slave. I doubt Ash Nevra is going to launch any sort of attack this early in the game, but we need
someone here with claws to keep an eye on them.”
I nodded; he was right.
Jeremy turned to me. “I’m coming with you.” He said firmly.
Rycon snorted. “No, you’re not, you’re staying here too.” Jeremy glared at him but Rycon rolled his eyes. “Sorry Pops, but
you’re just a delicate human. She’s going there,” he pointed to the forever erupting volcano that smoked in the distance. “Your
little human body would melt the second your feet touched the ground.” Jeremy looked frustrated and torn.
Rycon continued. “Honestly, I don’t know what we’re going to do with you for any of this. You’re a huge fucken liability…
wait… aren’t you a cop?” Rycon asked suddenly. “Yeah, you’re a detective. That means you have access to guns.” He rubbed
his chin thoughtfully, a grin spreading across his face.
Guns.
Rycon loved guns.
“We should rob your precinct’s armory and get you suited up. You’d be less likely to die immediately if we run into anyone
who might be a problem.”
Jeremy looked like steam was going to blow out of his ears. “We are not robbing the Toronto Police Force!” He snarled
as if the very idea was sacrilege. I guess to Jeremy it was. He had taken an oath to safeguard both lives and property. I
supposed grand theft armory violated that oath. Rycon shrugged and leaned back again, looking amused.
“Suit yourself, but that just means you’re as helpless as a declawed kitten in this world. Which means we can’t really take
you anywhere.” Rycon’s unspoken words hung in the air around me and a rush of anger and shame flooded through my chest.
We can’t take you anywhere because Raven has made it clear that your safety will come before anything else. I looked at
my father apologetically.
“He’s right,” I whispered. “You need to stay here with Rycon until I get back. We’ll try to figure something out then.”
Jeremy looked like he was physically in pain, and everything he had known and thought to be true was slipping from his
fingers. He was coming to the realization right before my eyes. He was realizing that he couldn’t protect me from the monsters
that lurked under my bed. These monsters were real, and I had to face them on my own.
I hated doing this to him, but I didn’t have time to ease him into any of this. We needed to make moves, and quickly. Every
second Amon and Kasha were with Ash Nevra was a second she could be hurting them.
“Okay, I’m going to go get back into my armor then I’m heading out.” I said matter of factly.
Dossidian nodded, “Aye. I will let Meredith know what we are planning, then take Conrad to the Abbey house.”
“Good.” I said, and Rycon got up and stretched.
“You guys have fun. I guess I should get cleaned up before my babysitting shift starts.”
Jeremy scowled at him but he just winked and hopped out of the pit, before glancing back at me. “Kitten.”
“Yeah?”
“Make sure that fucking thing burns.” Beneath all the jokes and the cocky laziness, I could feel the guilt and the pain
coursing through him. It was nearly as strong as my own feelings of rage and failure.
I knew that if and when we found those holding Kasha and Amon captive, between the two of us, there would be no
survivors.
 Dossidian

A
fter meeting with Raven, I headed out into the East Wing. Meredith was tending to the slave in one of the empty bed
chambers next to hers. While Raven had been in the dungeons with the widowmaker, I had helped Meredith set up a
small makeshift infirmary so that she did not need to keep rushing back and forth from her own room to retrieve supplies.
She looked up at me from where she sat next to the unconscious daemon as I entered, and smiled softly. Her long blonde
flyaway hair tumbled haphazardly around her shoulders… She looked exhausted. My chest tightened. How many hours had she
been in here, working to keep this daemon alive?
This room was furnished similarly to the rest of the bed chambers in the castle. The view was not as spectacular as the
rooms in the corridor that Raven and Amon stayed in, as this room was positioned farther back in the volcano. However, the
sprawling green landscape was dotted with wildflowers and was still a sight to behold.
I pulled up the remaining chair stationed at the small table in the center of the room and settled heavily next to Meredith.
“How is she?” I asked. Meredith sighed. With a wave of her hand, the bright blue and golden threads that made up the
daemon’s life force appeared, and the green witch pointed to several places where they knotted and clustered.
“Better, she will live. I am hopeful she will wake up soon.” She glanced at me nervously, licking her lips before
continuing. “See here, and here… where the threads tangle?”
I nodded, trying to make sense of the glowing display. Daemons were not great healers. Especially daemons like me. I was
made to bring one thing and one thing only. A stab of sadness welled in my chest at the thought. I envied Meredith, and her
ability to heal. I wished I had known her sooner. If I had, maybe…I shook my head to rid myself of the painful memories; I had
learned long ago that living in the past helped no one, especially not her.
“Aye,” I replied. “What does that mean?”
“I’ve never seen anything quite like it, but I think it has something to do with the slavery bond and this daemon’s powers. It
looks like they’ve been crippled from being repressed for so long. Almost like a bone that has been broken, then not given the
chance to reset properly.”
I rose an eyebrow. I thought of my own powers, and how often I had wished them away. I doubted this daemon would feel
the same when she woke up. I wondered how long she had been enslaved, for her powers to be completely disfigured like this.
“Who do you think she is?” Meredith whispered, looking down at the sleeping female, sadness etched into every line of the
witch’s face. I took in the daemon’s resting form. When she had first collapsed onto the floor of the common room, she had
been so covered in blood and filth that it had been impossible to discern her features. Meredith had cleaned her up and washed
her hair. She had even managed to get her into a fresh change of clothes. I was once again struck with a moment of awe of the
green witch’s respect and reverence for life. Even for the life of an enslaved daemon that she owed nothing to.
The daemon in question had fair skin and long, nearly white hair. It was striking in color and fell nearly to her waist.
“I don’t know. Ash Nevra does not tend to discriminate with her slaves. She could be anyone.”
“Whoever she is… she does not deserve this.” Meredith said, her normally soft, calm voice laced with disgust.
“Aye.” I agreed. I watched her frown at the glowing threads again as she began to worry and work at them with her fingers
in an attempt to untangle them.
She flinched slightly, and her fresh, leafy green aura wilted with the effort. Without thinking, I reached out and touched her
hand, gently pulling her away from the daemon’s life threads. Her hand was slender and delicate in mine, I nearly completely
enveloped her, as I wrapped my fingers around her. She jumped, and looked at me, startled and wide eyed. I couldn’t help but
chuckle.
“How long have you been working away at this, little witch?” I asked her. I could feel her draining next to me. Another way
magick folk differed from daemons, was the finite nature of their powers. Their powers were gifts from the deities they
worshiped, and usually came at a cost. Daemons were bottomless pits of power. We manufactured energy as easily as we drew
breath.
Whereas magick folk could fully deplete themselves to the point of harm, daemons had the opposite problem. If we weren’t
careful, we could generate so much power we could pose a risk to both ourselves, and others. This was a danger I was all too
familiar with.
“If I’m being honest, I’ve lost track of the hours.” She looked down at her hand, which was still enveloped by mine on top
of the sheets of the bed. I could feel the slight tremor in her bones.
She didn’t pull away.
“I think it’s time for you to take a break, little witch.” I said softly. “You have done all you can for right now.”
She frowned again, a small crease forming on her golden brow. I forced down the sudden urge to smooth it away with my
finger. This thought alone was enough for me to pull my hand away and slide my chair back, putting space between us.
Someone like Meredith deserved better than I. She was so entrenched in our inner circle, pursuing anything outside of a
friendly relationship with her was not a good idea. Especially considering the fact that she did not seem the type to entertain
casual romantic relationships. After… my incident, I had not allowed myself to spend more than a night in a female’s bed. I
didn’t want that for this lovely little witch, who was so kind and gentle, and who always seemed to put others before herself.
I admired her, yes. I could admit that while I sat here, inhaling her fresh minty scent, that I was attracted to her. But she
deserved more than I could ever hope to give.
Wildflowers don’t grow in the desert.
“I just don’t want her to wake up here alone,” she said, looking sad. “She is likely not used to feeling safe, and coming to a
strange place with no one there to answer questions… I know that I would panic if I were in her place.”
I suddenly wished I could offer to stay and keep watch, so Meredith could get some sleep. I was about to say as much,
when suddenly the daemon’s eyes flew open, and she shot up in bed with a panicked gasp. Meredith jumped, and I reflexively
reached for one of my sabers.
The daemon immediately grabbed Meredith by the wrist, and I leapt to my feet, pulling the green witch away in one easy
movement. In less than a second, I was facing the slave, who looked up at me with wild, terrified, crimson eyes.
“You must restrain me,” she gasped desperately. “She could force me to kill you at any moment.”
 Raven

I
t didn’t take me long to get back into my armor. I made sure Elvira’s circlet was firmly secured on my head before heading
back to the common room. Jeremy hovered by me as I picked the box up from where Rycon had left it on the bench of the
pit.
“I hate this, Raven.” He said, clearly upset. “You’re only eighteen, and you’re going off with who knows what is in that box
to drop it in a volcano? Alone?”
“We can talk more when I get back, Dad, but I don’t have time to discuss this right now.”
“Raven, I just think-”
I whipped around, losing my barely controlled patience.
“Dad. She has my mate. I know you don’t fully understand what that means, but I need to get him back. Every second we
are apart I feel like I’m dying. I can’t fucking breathe, Dad. And… I’m scared… I’m scared if I don’t keep moving forward, if
I don’t keep doing something, that I might fucking lose it and literally start killing people until I find him. I’m not saying that as
a turn of phrase, like ‘oh I’m so mad I could kill them.’ I mean, literally kill every single fucking daemon that stands in my
way.”
Jeremy’s face turned from concerned to stony, and I immediately regretted my words.
“I may not know what a mate is, Raven, but I know what it is to love someone. I was married for over twenty years.” His
words were soft, and dark. I watched him thumb his wedding band, which he still had not removed from his finger, despite
Clair’s passing months earlier. I froze, the now familiar and cold strum of guilt rattling through my chest.
My shadows erupted around me, and Jeremy’s own shadow peeled off the floor to join them as they swirled around the
room in agitation.
His eyes widened and he took a step back, but I didn’t have it in me to feel sad about it. I was just glad he was seeing a
small piece of what I was, and what I was capable of.
After taking a moment to observe the swirling darkness around us, I watched him process and come to the slow
understanding that I was the one controlling it. His eyes followed one of the shadows as it flew across the floor to wrap around
me.
He took in the look on my face, which I’m sure appeared hurt at the fact that he had taken a step away, and his expression
softened. He took two steps forward, to make up for his initial shock at the sudden use of magick and his reflexive step away. I
wondered if he was starting to realize how closely the magick was connected to my state of mind.
“I also have a daughter,” he continued, his voice tight. “Whom I love very much.” My eyes welled with tears at his words.
“I may not know what it is to have a mate, Raven, but I know what it is to love someone so much that you would do anything to
protect them.” He took another tentative step in my direction, stepping directly into the darkness that had cocooned itself
around me in a swirling vortex of complex emotion.
“Then you understand why I need to go, and why you need to stay here.” I said firmly, forcing down the lump of tears that
was lodged in the back of my throat. “I love you too dad. If anything happens to you, I won’t survive it.”
Jeremy looked so sad I could barely stand it. “I can’t lose you either, Raven. I have already lost enough.”
“I know.” I said softly. “We both have. Which is exactly why I need to stop her. I need to go.” I took my own step back,
clutching the box to my chest. “I’ll be back soon. Ask Rycon or Conrad to get you set up with a room and a change of clothes.” I
said, nodding to his t-shirt, which was still soiled with blood from when Ash Nevra had dragged a blade across his throat.
I hated looking at it.
My father, who had always been my rock, my anchor, my voice of reason, was standing before me, looking broken and lost.
I couldn’t bear to stand here to witness it for even another moment.
“I’ll be right back, Dad.” I promised softly, before my shadows carried me away, to the base of Mount Frira.
 Dossidian

I
sent Meredith to the dungeons to retrieve shackles for the slave. I did not want to leave them alone in the room together. I
asked her to bring Raven back with her, however when she returned, she informed me that Raven had already left for Mount
Frira.
Meredith wrapped the shackles around the daemon’s wrists and handed me the other ends, silently asking me to take care of
securing them to the wall.
I didn’t feel comfortable using my magick this close to either of them, but without Raven, Amon or Kasha, I was really the
only one available with the skills necessary to fuse metal to stone.
“Stand back.” I told Meredith, before sparing an apologetic glance at the daemon in the bed who was clearly unable to
stand back herself, considering she was so graciously allowing me to chain her to the wall. Meredith took several steps back,
but I shook my head.
“Farther.”
She frowned at me but obeyed. She continued to move back until I finally nodded at her. She was nearly outside of the
room.
I held the end of the chains that weren’t bound to the daemon’s wrists against the wall behind her bed. I cupped my hand
firmly over the metal before taking a deep breath in.
I stilled my mind and focused. I just needed a tiny bit, just enough to fill my hand. I pushed back the trauma and the fear that
rushed through me every time I needed to use my powers.
It had been the same when I had needed to take Jeremy and Meredith back to The Court of Pride and away from The
Origin’s Palace. I had been terrified that I would incinerate them both as we blasted through the air. Somehow, I had managed
to protect them from the heat as we flew like a comet through the night, each of them tucked firmly under one of my arms.
 This was no different, I told myself. In fact, it was even less dangerous. I just needed a tiny bit. I could control it. I had
worked on my control for over two hundred years. It was not the same as it had been then.
I would not hurt them.
I took another deep breath, before opening the impenetrable, thick gate I kept my power behind. I just let it slide a crack,
and even at that tiny taste of freedom, my power exploded from me with such force that I grit my teeth against it. I immediately
slammed the door down and put everything I had into corralling the wild, unpredictable nature of my energy into the palm of my
hand. The entire wall shook with the impact, and I felt the metal and stone melt beneath my fingers, effectively fusing the metal
and rock together.
With my breathing slightly labored, I took several steps back, doing my best not to let the two females see how much effort
it had taken me to keep the energy contained.
I didn’t want to scare them.
“Thank you,” The daemon said, watching me carefully. I think she could tell how hard that had been for me, despite my
efforts to keep my features controlled.
“Aye.” I said, stepping forward, “Though I’m not sure you should be thanking me for shackling you to the wall.”
She shook her head as Meredith came forward. “It is the only way. If she realizes I am here, she could order me to try to
hurt you.”
I didn’t miss the fact that she said ‘try.’ I wondered if she was aware of the fact that her powers were crippled.
“What is your name?” Meredith asked softly, stepping forward. The daemon’s head snapped to her, her crimson eyes
widening and suddenly filling with tears. Meredith held up both hands, immediately apologetic. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to
upset you, you don’t have to share your name, if you don’t want to.”
The daemon shook her head hastily, a tear spilling over with the movement. “No, no. It’s not that,” her voice was strained,
“It has just been so long, since someone has bothered to ask me my name.” She whispered, and Meredith’s face crumpled. I
understood immediately.
Slaves had names, of course. But they were not treated as people. Their names were told to others, they were rarely asked
to share them. They were property… possessions. Not people.
“My name is Cerenah.” She said softly, looking down at her hands briefly, before looking back up at us, fear and hesitation
etched on every line of her face. Finally, after a tense moment, she seemed to build her resolve and spoke again.
“I am Ash Nevra’s illegitimate half-sister.”
 Raven

I
didn’t allow my feet to touch the ground as I materialized at the base of the mountain. I was airborne and flying to the top of
the volcano the moment the molecules that made up my corporeal form snapped back into place. The hostility of the
landscape increased rapidly as I shot through the air. Before I knew it, ash and soot were raining down around me, and the
widowmaker’s head slammed more and more violently against the walls of the box the closer I came to the top.
When I had come here for my Quickening with Amon, the volcano had been violent, but nothing like this. Now, it was
actively erupting. Massive black plumes of smoke were billowing up into the air with the force of an atomic bomb, lightning
crackling through the black clouds of soot. Fiery molten stone sprayed from the mouth of the black mountain and bled down the
sides of the cliff face as I flew.
I needed to focus with more and more intensity on controlling the environment around me, to keep the ash from my lungs
and eyes. Without my magick to protect me, my skin would have surely peeled away in the excruciating heat.
By the time I reached the top, I was so surrounded by ash and smoke that I could barely see a few feet ahead of me.
Hovering by the giant cavernous opening, I paused, and opened the box. The widowmaker’s screams met my ears as I grabbed
a fist full of its greasy hair and pulled it out, allowing the box itself to tumble into the mouth of the volcano. Rycon must have
severed its head beneath its vocal chords, so it could still speak.
Good.
“Last chance, windowmaker. Give me something useful.” To my dismay, the fiend still refused to cooperate. It simply
screamed and spat black slime in a raging fit. My lip curled in disgust.
“Fine. Have it your way.” I snarled, before turning my attention back to the mountain. “Frira!” I called, dangling the
widowmaker’s head over the edge of the cliff. In response, the volcano let out another violent eruption of magma. More
lightning crashed as the molten rock rained back down, forming the shape of a giant wolf before my eyes.
 The wolf, which was easily the size of a small skyscraper, reared up before me, its massive maw dripping in fire and
brimstone. A wicked smile spread across my face in greeting. We stared at each other for a moment, before the Titan dipped its
head in a small bow. I tilted my head back in return.
“This creature is a traitor to The Dominion.” I explained to the giant, fiery wolf smoking before me. Frira snarled in
response, lava and ember exploding from its mouth as it did so.
“It claims it is immortal. I have tried and failed to kill it. Can I entrust its death with you?” I nearly held my breath. If Frira
could kill the widowmaker, that would be one massive problem solved. After a beat, Frira nodded its head, and opened its
mouth wide. Taking this as an invitation, I held up the widowmaker’s head and looked it right in its hideous face. It screamed
and spat, but I could barely hear it over the crack of lighting and the rumble of erupting magma.
“I want the last thing you see to be my fucking face.” I sneered at it, adjusting my grip in its filthy hair, so it would be easier
to launch into the great Titan’s maw. I brought it closer to me, so I could clearly speak into its ear. “I hope you burn in hell.” I
whispered.
“Mistress!” It screeched, as if she could hear its pleas. As if she cared about it at all. I smiled against it, not caring that its
greasy hair was touching my skin.
I wanted it to hear me.
“I’ll be sending that bitch to meet you soon enough. Save her a seat.” Then I swung my arm back and launched it high up
into the air. Frira flowed forward, snapping it up in its jaws. With a mighty swallow, the thing was finally gone. I had expected
to feel better. Looking up at the giant wolf, I realized that until I had Amon back safe in my arms, there would be no feeling
better.
It didn’t matter how many of them I killed.
 Amon

K
ieran walked into the chamber. His presence seemed to distract Ash Nevra and prompted her to remove herself from my
lap, which was a welcome development.
My gaze fell to the small table of surgical instruments the dark wizard had brought with him, and my relief quickly
turned to cautious surprise. I hadn’t expected them to start with something so… light. Based on her behaviour and obvious
jealously of Raven, I had assumed we would be skipping straight to rape.
Although I couldn’t say I was particularly happy with the idea of Kieran cutting away pieces of me, it would be less
distracting than some of the alternatives. If all we were doing was surface-level abrasions, I would be able to focus on
learning more about what I could and couldn’t do while ensnared by this ridiculous bond.
“Hello, Kieran,” I greeted, allowing him to see the disdain in my regard for him.
It was a game of masks.
To survive in Ash Nevra’s court, it had always been important to know what emotions to show, and which ones to hide.
Learning to control my expressions, my tone of voice, and my body language was one of the earliest and most important lessons
that had been drilled into me in my youth… And I was excellent at it.
“Prince Amon,” he replied, picking up a small but sharp looking scalpel. He examined it in the dim flickering light of the
dungeon. “You and I have never really had the chance to get to know each other. I must say, I am looking forward to doing so.”
Kieran drawled, putting the scalpel down and exchanging it for what looked like a long, thin metal skewer.
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. He had always been predictable and boring. I allowed him to see my impression of his
choice of instrument and the smirk dropped from his face.
“Would you like me to start with something that will leave more of a mark?” He reached back to the table, his fingers
grazing over a large pair of pliers. My lip curled.
 “I’m just surprised to see you turn to such human and pedestrian methods. Running low on power, Kieran? Have your gods
finally forsaken you?” I prodded, all the while flexing my own power within the parameters of the bond that held me in place.
My darkness churned deep inside the recesses of the magickal planes that connected to my body.
This slavery bond was the equivalent of trapping a hurricane in a bottle.
I used my power to slide up the sides of the bond, searching for a crack, a fissure, a weakness. Anything that I could use to
get some kind of an advantage.
Fury tore across the dark wizard’s face, and he grabbed the pliers, taking an aggressive step toward me.
“How about I remove your tongue? We’ll see how much you have to say then.” He snapped, and Ash Nevra laughed, as if
we were merely bickering children. She curled her hand over the wizard’s shoulder and pulled him back.
“None of that,” she purred into his ear, her crimson eyes boring into me over his shoulder. “I will have a need for that
tongue later.” She simpered, licking her lips.
I did not allow myself to react to her. I just continued to smirk at Kieran, all the while searching internally for something I
could use.
“I can make sure it grows back,” he sneered, but Ash Nevra just stroked a hand down his face gently, kissing him softly on
the cheek before tutting her own tongue.
“Keep it below the neck and above the groin... for now. We have time. We don’t want to spoil our supper by rushing
straight to dessert.”
I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. Outside of her own sick desire to play with me, I wasn’t sure what the motivation was to
keep it light for now. I knew her. She was sick and twisted, yes. But she was also smart, and strategic. There was a reason she
didn’t want to rush this. I just needed to figure out what it was.

WITHOUT WARNING , THE DOOR OPENED , AND THE S IREN STEPPED INTO THE DUNGEON . I COULDN ’ T TURN MY HEAD TO LOOK
directly at her, but I could feel her dark eyes boring into the side of my face from where she stood in the doorway. I had a
sudden flash of memory.
Her blade buried into Conrad’s neck. The look on his face as he had dropped to his knees, falling into a pool of his own
blood on the floor. Though I made sure to keep my face carefully blank, I found myself wondering if the Obeah Man was dead.
A stab of pain shot through my chest at the thought.
Outside of the fact that I had grown fond of Conrad myself, his death would have brought Raven to her knees. I couldn’t
imagine what she was going through. And I was stuck here, with these fools who I would have torn to shreds if it weren’t for
this bond that restrained me. I was unable to hold her, and be whatever she needed me to be, to help her heal from these fresh
wounds. I tried to take solace in the fact that I knew we had saved Jeremy. At least she had him for support.
“My Queen, you are needed.” Nytara said, her voice as carefully bored as mine. She too had always been an excellent
player in the game of masks. I don’t think in the three hundred years I had known her; I had seen her smile once. She had never
shown any other emotion, for that matter, other than cold indifference.
“Nothing that leaves a mark, Kieran,” Ash Nevra reminded him, before stalking away to the door, where Nytara waited. I
smirked at Kieran again, intentionally goading him with a raised eyebrow.
“Yes Kieran, be a good little servant and listen to your Master.” I purred. The door clicked shut and we were suddenly
alone. He snatched up the metal skewer, his knuckles going white as his fingers curled around the handle.
“Hold your hands out in front of you.” He snapped. The bond immediately attacked my immobile limbs, firing white hot
shocks deep into my bone marrow, forcing me to obey the command.
Holding both hands in the air before me, he came forward and flipped my right hand over, so my palm was facing him. He
ran the tip of the skewer down from the base of my palm to the tip of my index finger, brushing the sharp point gently over the
gap where my fingernail connected to my flesh.
He glanced up, meeting my eyes, before flipping the skewer and placing the handle into my right hand and ordering me to
close my own fingers around it.
Ah.
Maybe he was more creative than I had given him credit for.
“Remove the fingernails from your left hand. And do it slowly.” He ordered me, and the slavery bond flared to life again. I
was forced to wedge the skewer under the nail of my thumb, sending a blinding pain through my hand. I might have cursed
myself, for goading him and pushing him to come up with something less predictable. However, just as he gave the order, my
magick found what it had been looking for. A tiny pin prick, a flaw, a hole, where I had installed the trace on Raven all those
months back in the library.
 The triquetra was already working to repress my powers and block Raven from finding me. However, the pathway I had
installed was a weak point. I knew if I picked at it, focused, and put every single ounce of energy I had into this one tiny spot, I
would be able to contact her.
This realization spread through me, just as my hand worked the skewer beneath my nail to the cuticle. I popped up and
away, effectively tearing the nail back from the skin and off of my finger altogether.
The excruciating sting blended with the satisfying feeling of success at my metaphysical discovery and I smirked up at the
wizard, before moving onto my index finger.
“You’re a dead man, Kieran.”
“Bold words from someone currently removing their own fingernails.” He snarled. I forced a chuckle, annoyed with the
slight strain that was beginning to come through in my voice.
“Tick tock, Kieran,” I replied softly, allowing my consciousness to fall into the numb place I had built for myself over the
centuries. I separated my mind from my body and focused on that tiny, shining opportunity within me instead of the metallic tang
of pain that exploded like gunshots through my fingers with each nail that I removed from my own hand. I could deal with the
loss of a few fingernails. What I couldn’t do, was go much longer without reconnecting with the other half of my soul.
‘I’m coming, Raven,’ I breathed out into the tiny prick in the triquetra’s shield. I didn’t think she could hear me.
Not yet.
 Raven

I
was about to head back down to the base so I could shadow walk home when Frira threw back its massive head and let out
an earth-shattering howl. The Titan’s magick forced more fire and molten rock out of the mouth of the burning mountain. I
was positive my team could hear it back at court.
I winced as I realized Jeremy was likely watching the volcano erupt from the common room and stressing that I was in
danger.
I frowned at the great wolf before trying to turn away to leave again. Suddenly, it pulled itself free from the volcano and
bounded down the slope, leaving giant molten paw prints in its wake. I frowned again, confused. It seemed to be trying to block
my path back down. I glanced behind me at the violently erupting volcano.
Did it want me to go in there?
For fuck’s sakes… I wasn’t sure I had the energy for this.
I glanced back at the massive magma wolf. I felt like a tiny, dark flea as I hovered before its great fiery snout.
“You want me to go in there, don’t you?” I asked, and it gave me one slow, deliberate nod. The volcano erupted again, and
I tried not to groan.
This was going to suck.
However, if a giant magma wolf Titan tells you to do something, somehow, I felt like it would be unwise to ignore its
advice. It was trying to help me. I knew it in some deep, instinctual part of my soul.
“Fine.” I sighed, eyeing the explosive path forward warily. “Can you at least lead the way? I didn’t bring my swim
goggles.” I joked, more to make myself feel better than anything. This was definitely not funny.
Frira prowled forward, resting both paws on the lip of the opening before diving in, strings of molten rock whipping past
me as its tail crested the edge.
 I latched a thread of shadow onto the wolf’s fiery form and allowed myself one deep breath. I braced both myself and my
shields, before diving in after the great wolf.

I HAD NEVER FELT AS STUPID AS I DID THE MOMENT MY BODY BROKE THE SURFACE OF THE OCEAN OF MAGMA THAT I HAD
willingly launched myself into.
‘I’ll be right back, Dad,’ I mocked myself in my head, as I tried to propel myself forward through the thick liquid rock. I
was blindly following the tether I had attached to Frira. No wonder the man hadn’t believed me when I said I would be fine.
He knew I had a tendency to be reckless. Though, I supposed even he wouldn’t have guessed I would be stupid enough to
literally dive face first into an erupting volcano to go for a swim.
I tapped deep into the endless internal well of power I had at my disposal. I found that to keep my shields strong enough to
protect me from burning alive, I needed to burn through energy nearly as fast as I could manufacture it. Not to mention I was
running out of breath. There was no air down here.
All I could see was blinding orange and red as I swam deeper and deeper into the ocean of magma. I prayed we would
arrive wherever Frira was trying to take me soon.
Jeremy’s worried face swam before my vision. If I died here, it would destroy him. I couldn’t die. I had to come back to
him in one piece.
Determined not to let him down, like I seemed to have done for everyone else, I opened the floodgates to my power wider
and blasted forward through the viscous rock, just as the tether I had attached to Frira took a decided turn upwards.
Putting more power behind me, I exploded out of the lava after the wolf, gulping back air the moment my head crested the
surface. I gasped and coughed as Frira flowed out of the bubbling pool beneath us and onto a black outcropping in what
appeared to be a subterranean cave. I floated down onto the natural platform next to the Titan and collapsed onto my hands and
knees, swallowing back mouthfuls of air until it felt like my lungs would burst.
The fiery wolf waited patiently for me to catch my breath. Sitting back on its haunches, it cocked its great head to the side.
The liquid rock that made up its body churned relentlessly, and great beads of magma dripped onto the ground around us.
When I finally felt I could stand without losing consciousness, I slowly got to my feet.
“Woah,” I said out loud, taking in the massive black tunnel that stood before us. I glanced up at Frira skeptically.
“Let me guess. You now want me to venture into this dark, ominous tunnel?” I asked flatly. Frira lowered itself down onto
its mighty belly, letting out a bellowing whine as it did. It rested its head on its forepaws, and as I looked deep into its glowing
red eyes, I had the strangest feeling that the wolf was telling me to proceed with caution. Either that, or I was just smart enough
to know that the echoing blackness that waited before me could be filled with any sort of horrible, dangerous creatures or
magick.
I hadn’t even known this world existed until a few short months ago. I didn’t pretend to be an expert on what types of
dangers I might come across in a subterranean cave, but looking at the giant wolf that was made of lava lying before me, I
wasn’t sure I wanted to find out. I eyed the entrance to the tunnel before glancing back at the wolf one more time.
“You really want me to go in there, huh?” I asked it one last time. It whined again, inching closer to me on its belly, urging
me forward. I sighed.
“Fine. But whatever is in there better be fucking good, Frira, or I’m going to be pissed.”
The wolf huffed a gust of black smoke out of its nose, and I watched in awe as the smoke twisted and changed into several
fiery dragonflies. They buzzed and darted around me, before plunging into the tunnel, leading me into the darkness.
 Conrad

A
fter changing into my armor, I made my way to the common room to wait for Dossidian. Jeremy was there, standing by
the cavernous hole in the wall that looked out over The Court of Pride. I followed the direction of his gaze to Mount
Frira, which was violently erupting. I winced. Even knowing what Raven was capable of, the sight of the eruption made
me feel uneasy. I couldn’t imagine what Jeremy must be feeling, knowing that was where his daughter had gone.
“She strong,” I said, coming up to stand beside him. When I had first met him in the human world, he had not exactly been
my biggest fan. In his defense, he had been investigating a serial murder case in which Raven matched the victim’s profile, and
I was a mysterious new stranger in her life. He had good reason not to trust me.
I braced myself for hostility, or an angry rebuttal, but received neither.
“I know she is,” he said sadly, not taking his eyes off the erupting volcano. “She’s too strong for her own good.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle at that. The man knew his daughter.
“Yeah. Mi agree wid dat.” I replied, just as Dossidian and Meredith entered the room. They both looked pale. I
immediately tensed, panic thrilling through my veins.
“What?” I asked, “Wha’ gwaan?”
“The slave woke up.” Dossidian said gravely. I frowned. That was a good thing, wasn’t it?
“Den why yuh both look like yuh seen a ghost?” I asked, Meredith met my gaze and pursed her lips.
“She claims to be Ash Nevra’s half-sister. Apparently Anjoilie had an affair.”
“Cho!” I exclaimed, glancing back and forth between the two of them, hoping they were making a joke. “Who di fadda ?” I
asked, and they both shrugged.
“She says she doesn’t know. She claims to have been raised in The Court of Lust as a lady until Anjoilie was killed. She
says Ash has always been threatened by her. The moment their mother was out of the picture, Ash enslaved her and sent her
away to serve the Prince and Princess of The Court of Greed.”
I felt guilty asking, but it felt too obvious not too. “Why Ash Nevra keep har alive? Why dem don’t kill her?” Dossidian and
Meredith exchanged another look, telling me they had been wondering the same thing themselves.
“We don’t know. Cerenah claims not to know either. Though she did hint that Ash Nevra’s hate for her runs deep enough
that she suspects she gets a sick sort of joy out of torturing her.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Dis all seems tuh bi too suspicious. Shi could be a spy.”
Dossidian and Meredith both nodded.
“We have her restrained for now. Spy or not, she is still under the influence of the slavery bond. She is a safety risk
regardless. We will have to keep an eye on her until Raven gets back.” Dossidian said. I sighed.
“Mi need tuh still cross di veil and speak with di Sorcerer General.” I pointed out. I fingered the signet ring that identified
me as a certified member of The Board. Outside of asking if there was anything in the archives that could help to overcome the
power of The Flute, I needed to warn my people of the upcoming war.
Meredith nodded, “I will watch her. Rycon is here in case she turns out to be dangerous. And as Dossidian said, she is
restrained. Her powers have been crippled from being enslaved for so long. This alone leads me to want to believe her story.
What has been done to her is… horrific. I have never seen anything like it before.”
Dossidian and I both exchanged a look, neither of us loved the idea of leaving Meredith here with a potential enemy and
Rycon as her only defense. I glanced at Jeremy. I supposed he would be here as well. He was only human, yes, but I had not
missed the way Rycon had listened to him when he had told him to take his feet off the table. Maybe he would be a good
enough influence to keep things in line until Raven returned.
I glanced anxiously back out at Mount Frira again.
It was still erupting.
I bit back the swell of worry that welled in my chest. She should have been back by now. It didn’t take that long to dump a
head into a volcano. I shoved down my concern and turned to Dossidian.
“‘Aight, we stick tuh di original plan. Mer, you stay here with Mista Fisha and di cat, Dossidian and mi will cross di veil
and speak tuh Mista Abbey and di Sorcerer General. Me’ll come back as soon as mi can.”
Meredith nodded reluctantly. “Be careful.” She told me. I nodded.
Dossidian came forward and drew one of his sabers before slicing a hole into the fabric of reality, opening a portal
between worlds.
“We will be back in a day or two. If you need us, send Raven to the Abbey house.” Dossidian said. Meredith nodded, but
Jeremy didn’t seem to be listening.
He was still watching the erupting volcano.
 Raven

‘Alexa, Play Cosmic Lottery by Evergreen.’

I
blinked, confused for a moment, at the electric blue door that stood before me. It was a brisk winter night and the soft
nostalgic notes of ‘I’ll be home for Christmas,’ hummed sweetly from the interior of the house; the house I had grown up
in.
I took a step forward and jumped a little, as my feet crunched in the crispy snow that crept in patches across the porch. I
was wearing my trusty combat boots, black jeans, and the hand-me-down leather jacket that Clair had given me a few years
back. It didn’t do much to keep me warm, but I loved it so much that it was worth feeling a little chilly when I wore it.
Red, green, blue, and yellow Christmas lights wound in and out of the porch’s banister and I could smell a turkey baking in
the oven… Clair only baked a turkey twice a year. Thanksgiving and… Christmas Eve.
It was Christmas Eve.
Moving as if I had been possessed, I reached a hand forward grabbing the cold, golden knob and twisting, before slipping
into the foyer. The warmth of the house enveloped me like a familiar embrace. A heart wrenching mix of laughter and friendly
chatter met my ears, all trickling from the kitchen.
“Raven? Is that you?” My heart pounded in my chest. That voice. Why did it feel like it had been so long since I had heard
that voice? I froze where I stood, unable to move.
“One second, I need to see who’s at the door, I think Raven just got here.”
I lost minutes as she came out of the kitchen and turned down the hall, her blonde hair piled on top her head, a red apron
that said ‘Mrs. Claus,’ was wrapped around her waist.
“Raven! Honey it is you!” Clair beamed at me, wiping her hands off on a tea towel before tossing it over her shoulder and
coming forward to gather me up in her arms.
“Mom?” My voice cracked. I felt like I hadn’t seen her in so long. There was a lump in my throat, and I buried my face into
her chest as she hugged me, struggling not to cry. Why was I trying so hard not to cry? She pulled back, smiling down at me,
taking in the look on my face. She ran a thumb over my cheek, frowning.
“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” She asked. I struggled to find words.
What was wrong?
Why did I feel as if the very sight of her was shattering my entire world?
“I don’t know…” I said softly, “I just… I think I’ve missed you. So much.”
She smiled down at me and kissed the top of my head. “I’ve missed you too, honey. But you’re here now! And it’s
Christmas!”
I gave her a shaky laugh. I had forgotten how much Clair loved Christmas.
She always joked that she loved the Santa Claus kind of Christmas. She loved giving gifts to people, family gatherings,
good food, and the tacky ornaments and stupid crafts that we had always done together when I was a child.
She loved reading ‘The Night Before Christmas,’ every year on Christmas eve, drinking eggnog and leaving cookies out
for the big man in red, and carrots and celery out for Rudolph. We had carried this tradition on long after I had stopped
believing.
She had told me that when she was a child they had not celebrated Christmas. And every year she had always wished, just
once, they could put up a big old tree like they did in the specials on TV. She had resolved as a young child that when she grew
up, and had her own family, she would make it fun and special.
She had delivered on that promise.
Despite having been a relatively angry and lonely child, I had still looked forward to Christmas every year, because of
Clair.
“I’m so glad you’re here! Where’s Amon?” She asked, and I frowned. Where was Amon? I felt a twinge of dread in my
chest. Something was nipping at the edges of my memory. It had to do with Amon, I think I had to find him… was he missing?
The twinkling lights in the garland that twisted up the railing leading upstairs briefly flashed red. For a moment, I thought I
caught a glimpse of a dragonfly made up entirely of fire. I blinked, and it was gone. It was just a banister wrapped in evergreen
and sparkling lights.
“I’m sure he’ll be here shortly.” She said cheerfully, pulling away. “Why don’t you take off your boots and hang up your
coat? Everyone’s waiting for you!”
I watched her disappear down the hall and back into the kitchen. I still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.
Where was Amon? Why did I have this horrible feeling that I shouldn’t be here at all? I had something important that I needed
to do…
“Hello, Raven.” My heart leapt to my throat at the words. I felt as if time slowed down as I turned.
There he was, leaning against the door frame, looking at me as if I were the most precious gift on earth.
Amon.

HIS SILVER HAIR REFLECTED THE WARM REDS AND YELLOWS OF THE CHRISTMAS LIGHTS ON THE PORCH BEHIND HIM. HIS EYES
were greener than the garland Clair had draped over every surface. His black cloak brushed against his boots, and his beautiful
hands were painted in black leather gloves. Those elegant, gloved fingers cradled a gift wrapped in green paper, topped with a
black silky bow.
“Amon,” I breathed and all at once my heart went from standing still, to sprinting a marathon. I ran to him, and his eyes
widened slightly in surprise. I launched myself into his arms, and he quickly floated the gift away so his hands were free to
catch me.
The scent of him enveloped me, and suddenly I was drowning in cinnamon. His lips lowered to mine as my arms wrapped
around his neck and he spun me around. His mouth smiled against me and he kissed me so deeply, I felt I might never find my
way up for air.
After one full, delicious circle, he pulled back just enough to gently rest his forehead against mine. He rubbed the tips of
our noses against each other slowly. The world fell away, and I was home. He cupped the side of my face with his gloved
hands, looking deep into my eyes.
“Merry Christmas, my love.” He whispered before giving me another soft kiss on the lips, lingering long enough to pull my
bottom lip into his mouth. He briefly sucked on it, as if he were savoring the taste of me. As if he would drink me up until there
was nothing left.
 “Where have you been?” I asked softly against his lips, my fingers twining up into his silver hair, holding on for dear life.
My lashes brushed wet tears against my cheeks and my throat closed tight around the words. I was afraid. I was so afraid that if
I let him go, he would disappear.
“In all the wrong places,” he murmured back just as softly, before wrapping his own fingers into my hair and pulling me
back into him, his tongue slid against my mouth gently. I gasped and opened for him as he sipped from me, as if sharing this
space was not enough. He wanted every piece of me. He wanted to share my breath, my body, my soul. Wet lips and pebbled
skin. Whispered promises and tender words of praise. He wanted all of me and it would still never be enough.
He reluctantly pulled away, smiling down at me with lazy, hooded eyes and I whimpered at the tiny sliver of space he had
created between us. I was terrified I would lose him again… the thought stopped me in my tracks. Again? Had I lost him
before? He rubbed a thumb firmly over my cheek, wiping away a salty tear that I hadn’t realized had formed.
“Easy, my dark, dangerous, little Queen,” his voice was like velvet against my skin, and I shuddered against him before he
pulled further back. He slid his hands into my coat and peeled it off my shoulders. The way he was looking at me, made me feel
as if he wished he were removing more than just the jacket from my body.
He plucked the gift from where it had been floating patiently in the air behind us. I moved to take my coat from him, but he
chuckled and shook his head, handing me the gift instead.
He draped my jacket over his arm and used his free hand to wrap around the back of my neck, pulling me in once more to
place a tender kiss on my forehead.
“I’ve got this, my love,” he said, referring to my coat. “Why don’t you put that under the tree? I’ll meet you there.” My heart
tightened at the thought of letting him out of my sight, but I jumped again as more familiar voices spilled down the hallway,
beckoning me forward.
“Kitten, for fuck sakes what’s taking so long?” Rycon poked his head out from the kitchen to see what the hold-up was.
“Are you coming? I need your help with the potatoes. The Obeah Man is shit with a peeler, let me tell you.”
“Yuh cya’an shet up!?” Conrad exclaimed in indignation from somewhere out of sight. “A nuh me fault yuh give me dis dull
dagger to peel potatoes. What kind of mercenary carry ‘round a dull knife like dis?”
I bit back a laugh as I took a step forward. I paused briefly, thinking I caught movement from one of the lights in the garland
by the railing again. I could swear there was a buzz from what sounded like insect wings.
“Raven, honey? Are you coming?” Clair called, and I shook off the strange feeling.
“Coming!” I called out, before making my way deeper into the house.
 Raven

R
ycon hadn’t been kidding. Conrad was absolutely butchering the potatoes. I took his place and shooed him away. He
chuckled softly, and shrugged as I took the dagger away from him. He was wearing a heavy knit ugly Christmas sweater
that I was sure Clair had pushed him to put on the moment he had arrived.
“Tank yuh, gya’al, mi nuh know why mi so bad wid it.” He laughed, giving me his signature two finger salute. As his
fingers left his brow, the golden ring that he had been gifted when he had been officially named a member of The Board
suddenly slipped off and fell to the ground with a ping before shooting away. I jumped, startled and Conrad’s face crumbled.
“Oh no,” I said, looking around frantically on the floor. I couldn’t see it anywhere.
“Don’t worry Conrad, it will come back. Lost things always return when the time is right.” Clair smiled at us as she
prepared some fat, buttery brussel sprouts.
Conrad frowned, but seemed to take her words to heart.
He joined Jeremy and Dossidian, who were watching a basketball game in our living room. The room itself currently
looked as if one of Santa’s elves had puked all over it. Every single tacky piece of Christmas décor you could imagine spilled
over any available surface. The blanket and pillows on the ugly couch, or ‘chesterfield’ as Clair always called it, had been
swapped out for kitschy Christmas versions of their counterparts.
Even the art on the wall had been traded for those personalized Christmas illustrations you could buy at kiosks in the mall.
When I had finished saving the potatoes from a violent death by dagger, I approached one of the little pieces of art and
smiled. This one had nine stockings drawn on an illustration of a fireplace, each one boasting one of our names. Clair, Jeremy,
Raven, Amon, Conrad, Meredith, Rycon, Kasha, and Dossidian. I frowned slightly as I looked closer. Clair’s stocking seemed
to disappear when I looked at it for too long. I touched the frame, wondering if it was a trick of the light.
“Raven, would you like to help me with the Yule Log?” Meredith asked, distracting me from my examination of the
illustration. I turned, smiling at her before settling down on the floor with her next to the coffee table.
“Sure, I’ve never made a Yule Log before. What can I do to help?” I asked. A tiny child-like version of Kasha sat in
Meredith’s lap, her blue hair pulled into tiny pigtails on either side of her head. She was wearing a flower crown made of
white orchids.
“Hi Raven!” Baby Kasha beamed at me, and I smiled at her, straightening her tiny crown.
“Hey Kasha,” I said, “want to show me what to do?”
She nodded eagerly and launched into an explanation about how we needed to put five candles into the holes Meredith had
drilled into the Kapok log. The next step was to then decorate it with the collection of feathers and fir tree branches they had
collected from the park earlier. The candles were moulded into the shapes of different animals. I picked up the first one, which
was carved to resemble a grizzly bear.
“I wanted to do six, but the serpent didn’t want to help us.” Kasha informed me, sounding annoyed.
I was still listening to the tiny Kasha’s excited explanation as Amon came in from hanging up our coats. I watched him slide
into the kitchen and greet a smiling Clair with a hand on the small of her back and a suave kiss on both cheeks. I grinned at him.
He was perfect.
He slipped into the living room and made sure to greet Jeremy first with a firm handshake and a smile before settling into
the armchair behind me. He leaned forward and pulled me back to rest between his legs. Placing a soft kiss on the side of my
head, he ran his fingers through my long hair, making my scalp tingle with tiny bursts of pleasure.
“We should introduce this sport to our people back at court,” Dossidian bellowed from next to Jeremy, who gave him an
approving smile. “These little men have excellent control and aim. It is impressive.” He continued, watching the screen with
intense interest.
Jeremy chuckled, eyeing Dossidian’s hulking form next to him. “Well, I wouldn’t call those men ‘little.’ Many of them are
nearly as tall as you are.” He explained, “They just look small on the TV. Do you like basketball, Amon?” Jeremy asked, from
where he sat on the couch on the opposite side of the room.
“I’m familiar, but have never followed it seriously,” Amon admitted, his eyes twinkling in amusement. “I fear we do not get
the sports network in The Court of Pride.”
Jeremy laughed and nodded. “I suppose that’s fair.” He said, taking a sip of his beer.
The wail of sirens suddenly pierced through the discussion and the flash and bounce of emergency lights spilled in through
the windows as an ambulance screeched down the street. Sirens in the city were common background noise and I barely
noticed them until the tiny Kasha started to suddenly cry.
“Ey, likkle one, dun cry,” Conrad scooped up Kasha and bounced her on his hip, taking her to look out the window with
him. He pointed to the ambulance that was making all the ruckus so she could see. “Dat’s just a siren. See? Dey goin tuh save
someone in need.” He explained to her patiently. Kasha sniffed and reached out to touch the window, her tiny toddler fingers
leaving smudges on the glass.
“I hope somebody saves me soon,” she giggled, and I frowned. Save her from what? I was about to ask her what she meant
when Rycon called out from where he had been helping Clair in the kitchen.
“Okay you ass hats, thanks for all the help.” He snapped sarcastically, and I tried not to laugh out loud. He was holding a
casserole dish full of stuffing, with big red oven mitts and the green counterpart to Clair’s red ‘Mrs. Claus’ Christmas apron.
His apron said ‘Mr. Claus’ on it and jingled with tiny bells when he moved.
“Language,” Jeremy scolded him and Rycon rolled his eyes.
“Fine. Dinner is ready, you lazy S.O.B’s,” he amended and Jeremy sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. I bit back
another giggle. I was familiar with that face. I had made him make that face many times myself.
“Let’s help set the table,” Amon whispered into my ear from behind as he stood up. I got to my feet and took his hand as we
made our way to the kitchen. I jumped as his warm hand slid into mine.
It wasn’t just warm.
It was wet.
I glanced down and gasped. The fingernails were missing from his hand, and he was bleeding so profusely it was dripping
onto the floor.
“Amon!” I cried out in shock. Everyone stopped to look at me. I blinked. The blood was gone, and his hand was completely
fine.
“What is it?” He asked, clearly concerned. I shook my head, biting my lip. What was going on with me?
He touched a perfect thumb to my bottom lip, gently pulling it out from where I had clamped down on it between my teeth.
Quietly, so no one else would hear, he breathed into my ear.
“Do not bite your lip like that, unless you would like me to show you how to bite it properly.”
I shivered as he pulled away, the heat in his eyes making things tighten in my core. I smirked at him.
“Maybe after dinner,” I teased. “We haven’t had a lesson in a while.”
A devilish smirk curled across his beautiful lips. “You’re a wicked little thing.” He murmured, dropping a devastatingly
Another random document with
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no haze la merced tu voluntad. Si
lo consientes iuzgandome
desagradecido porque no me
contento con el bien que me
heziste en darme causa de tan
ufano pensamiento, no me
culpes, que avnque la voluntad se
satisfaze, el sentimiento se
querella. Si te plaze porque nunca
te hize seruizio, no pude sobir los
seruizios á la alteza de lo que
mereces; que quando todas estas
cosas y otras muchas pienso
hallome que dexas de hazer lo
que te suplico porque me puse en
cosa que no pude merecer. Lo
qual yo no niego; pero atreuime á
ello pensando que me harias
merced no segund quien la pedia
mas segund tú que la auies de
dar. Y tambien pense que para
ello me ayudadaran virtud y
compasion y piedad porque son
acetas á tu condicion, que quando
los que con los poderosos
negocian para alcançar su gracia,
primero ganan las voluntades de
sus familiares; y pareceme que en
nada hallé remedio. Busqué
ayudadores para contigo y
hallélos por cierto leales y firmes
y todos te suplican que me ayas
merced; el alma por lo que sufre,
la vida por lo que padece, el
coraçon por lo que pasa, el
sentido por lo que siente. Pues no
niegues galardon á tantos que
con ansia te lo piden y con razon
te lo merecen. Yo soy el más sin
ventura de los más
desauenturados. Las aguas
reuerdecen la tierra y mis
lagrimas nunca tu esperança la
qual cabe en los canpos y en las
yeruas y arboles y no puede
caber en tu coraçon.
Desesperado auria segund lo que
siento si alguna vez me hallase
solo, pero como siempre me
acompañan el pensamiento que
me das y el deseo que me
ordenas y la contemplacion que
me causas, viendo que lo vo á
hazer consuelanme acordandome
que me tienen conpañia de tu
parte, de manera que quien causa
las desesperaciones me tiene que
no desespere. Si todavia te plaze
que muera, hazmelo saber, que
gran bien harás á la vida pues no
será desdichada del todo. Lo
primero della se pasó en
inocencia y lo del conocimiento en
dolor; a lo menos el fin será en
descanso porque tú lo das, el
qual, si ver no me quieres, será
forçado que veas.

EL AUCTOR
Con mucha pena recibio Laureola
la carta de Leriano y por
despedirse dél onestamente
respondiole desta manera, con
determinacion de iamas recebir
enbaxada suya.

CARTA DE LAUREOLA Á
LERIANO
El pesar que tengo de tus males
te seria satisfacion dellos mismos
si creyeses quanto es grande, y él
solo tomarias por galardon sin
que otro pidieses, avnque fuese
poca paga segund lo que tienes
merecido, la qual yo te daria
como deuo si la quisieses de mi
hazienda y no de mi onrra. No
respondere á todas las cosas de
tu carta porque en saber que te
escriuo me huye la sangre del
coraçon y la razon del iuycio.
Ninguna causa de las que dizes
me haze consentir tu mal sino
sola mi bondad, porque cierto no
estó dudosa del, porque el
estrecho á que llegaste fue testigo
de lo que sofriste. Dizes que
nunca me hiziste seruicio. Lo que
por mi has hecho me obliga á
nunca oluidallo y sienpre desear
satisfacerlo, no segund tu deseo
mas segund mi onestad. La virtud
y piedad y conpasion que
pensaste que te ayudarian para
comigo, aunque son aceptas á mi
condicion, para en tu caso son
enemigas de mi fama y por esto
las hallaste contrarias. Quando
estaua presa saluaste mi vida y
agora que estó libre quieres
condenalla. Pues tanto me
quieres, antes devrias querer tu
pena con mi onrra que tu remedio
con mi culpa; no creas que tan
sanamente biuen las gentes, que
sabido que te hablé, iuzgasen
nuestras linpias intenciones,
porque tenemos tienpo tan malo
que antes se afea la bondad que
se alaba la virtud; assi que es
escusada tu demanda porque
ninguna esperança hallarás en
ella aunque la muerte que dizes
te viese recebir, auiendo por
mejor la crueldad onesta que la
piedad culpada. Dirás oyendo tal
desesperança que só mouible
porque te comence á hazer
merced en escreuirte y agora
determino de no remediarte. Bien
sabes tú quan sanamente lo hize
y puesto que en ello uviera otra
cosa, tan conuenible es la
mudança en las cosas dañosas
como la firmeza en las onestas.
Mucho te ruego que te esfuerces
como fuerte y te remedies como
discreto. No pongas en peligro tu
vida y en disputa mi onrra, pues
tanto la deseas, que se dirá
muriendo tú que galardono los
seruicios quitando las vidas, lo
que si al rey venço de dias se dirá
al reues. Ternas en el reyno toda
la parte que quisieres, crecere tu
onrra, doblaré tu renta, sobiré tu
estado, ninguna cosa ordenarás
que reuocada te sea, assi que
biuiendo causarás que me
iuzguen agradecida y muriendo
que me tengan por mal
acondicionada. Avnque por otra
cosa no te esforçases, sino por el
cuydado que tu pena me da lo
devrias hazer. No quiero mas
dezirte porque no digas que me
pides esperança y te do conseio.
Plugiere á Dios que fuera tu
demanda iusta, por que vieras
que como te aconseió en lo vno te
satisfiziera en lo otro; y assi
acabo para sienpre de más
responderte ni oyrte.

EL AUCTOR
Cuando Laureola vuo escrito
dixome con proposito
determinado que aquella fuese la
postrimera vez que pareciese en
su presencia porque ya de mis
pláticas andaua mucha sospecha
y porque en mis ydas auia mas
peligro para ella que esperança
para mi despacho. Pues vista su
determinada voluntad,
pareciendome que de mi trabaio
sacaua pena para mí y no
remedio para Leriano, despedime
della con mas lágrimas que
palabras y despues de besalle las
manos salime de palacio con vn
nudo en la garganta que pense
ahogarme, por encobrir la pasion
que sacaua, y salido de la cibdad,
como me vi solo, tan fuertemente
comence á llorar que de dar
bozes no me podía contener. Por
cierto yo tuuiera por meior quedar
muerto en Macedonia que venir
biuo á Castilla; lo que deseaua
con razon pues la mala ventura
se acaba con la muerte y se
acrecienta con la vida. Nunca por
todo el camino sospiros y
gemidos me fallecieron, y quando
llegué á Leriano dile la carta, y
como acabó de leella dixele que
ni se esforçase, ni se alegrase, ni
recibiese consuelo pues tanta
razon auia para que deuiese
morir. El qual me respondió que
más que hasta alli me tenia por
suyo porque le aconseiaua lo
propio, y con boz y color mortal
començo a condolerse. Ni
culpaua su flaqueça, ni
avergonçaua su desfallecimiento;
todo lo que podie acabar su vida
alabaua, mostrauase amigo de
los dolores, recreaua con los
tormentos, amaua las tristezas;
aquellos llamaua sus bienes por
ser mensaieros de Laureola y
porque fuesen tratados segund de
cuya parte venian, aposentólos en
el coraçon, festeiólos con el
sentimiento, convidólos con la
memoria, rogauales que
acabasen presto lo que venian a
hazer porque Laureola fuese
seruida. Y desconfiando ya de
ningun bien ni esperança,
aquexado de mortales males, no
podiendo sustenerse ni sofrirse
vuo de venir á la cama, donde ni
quiso comer ni beuer ni ayudarse
de cosa de las que sustentan la
vida, llamandose sienpre
bienauenturado porque era
venido á sazon de hazer seruicio
á Laureola quitandola de enoios.
Pues como por la corte y todo el
reyno se publicase que Leriano se
dexaua morir, ybanle a ueer todos
sus amigos y parientes y para
desuialle su proposito dezianle
todas las cosas en que pensauan
prouecho, y como aquella
enfermedad se auia de curar con
sabias razones, cada uno
aguzaua el seso lo meior que
podia; y como vn cauallero
llamado Tefeo[276] fuese grande
amigo de Leriano viendo que su
mal era de enamorada pasion
puesto que quien la causaua él ni
nadie lo sabia dixole infinitos
males de las mugeres y para
fauorecer su habla truxo todas las
razones que en disfamia dellas
pudo pensar, creyendo por alli
restituylle la vida. Lo qual oyendo
Leriano, acordandose que era
muger Laureola, afeó mucho á
Tefeo porque tal cosa hablaua y
puesto que su disposicion no le
consintiese mucho hablar,
esforçando la lengua con la
pasion de la saña començo a
contradezille en esta manera.

LERIANO CONTRA TEFEO

Y TODOS LOS QUE DIZEN MAL
DE MUGERES
Tefeo, para que recibieras la pena
que merece tu culpa, onbre que te
tuuiera menos amor te auie de
contradezir, que las razones mias
mas te seran en exenplo para que
calles que castigo para que
penes. En lo qual sigo la
condicion de verdadera amistad,
porque pudiera ser, si yo no te
mostrara por biuas causas tu
cargo, que en qualquiera plaça te
deslenguaras como aqui has
hecho; asi que te será mas
prouechoso emendarte por mi
contradicion que auergonçarte por
tu perseverança. El fin de tu habla
fue segund amigo, que bien noté
que la dexiste porque aborreciese
la que me tiene qual vees,
diziendo mal de todas mugeres, y
como quiera que tu intencion no
fue por remediarme, por la via
que me causaste remedio tú por
cierto me lo as dado, porque tanto
me lastimaste con tus feas
palabras, por ser muger quien me
pena, que de pasion de auerte
oydo beuire menos de lo que
creya, en lo qual señalado bien
recebi, que pena tan lastimada
meior es acaballa presto que
sostenella más; assi que me
truxiste alivio para el padecer y
dulce descanso para ella acabar.
Porque las postrimeras palabras
mias sean en alabança de las
mugeres, porque crea mi fe la que
tuuo merecer para causalla y no
voluntad para satisfazella.
Y dando comienço á la intencion
tomada, quiero mostrar quinze
causas porque yerran los que en
esta nacion ponen lengua, y
veynte razones porque les somos
los onbres obligados, y diuersos
enxenplos de su bondad. Y
quanto a lo primero que es
proceder por las causas que
hazen yerro los que mal las
tratan, fundo la primera por tal
razon. Todas las cosas hechas
por la mano de Dios son buenas
necesariamente, que segun el
obrador han de ser las obras;
pues siendo las mugeres sus
criaturas, no solamente á ellas
ofende quien las afea, mas
blasfema de las obras del mismo
Dios. La segunda causa es
porque delante dél y de los
onbres no ay pecado más
abominable ni más graue de
perdonar quel desconocimiento;
¿pues quál lo puede ser mayor
que desconocer el bien que por
Nuestra Señora nos vino y nos
viene? Ella nos libró de pena y
nos hizo merecer la gloria; ella
nos salua, ella nos sostiene, ella
nos defiende, ella nos guia, ella
nos alumbra, por ella que fue
muger merecen todas las otras
corona de alabança. La tercera es
porque a todo onbre es defendido
segund virtud mostrarse fuerte
contra lo flaco, que si por ventura
los que con ellas se deslenguan
pensasen recebir contradicion de
manos, podria ser que tuuiesen
menos libertad en la lengua. La
quarta es porque no puede
ninguno dezir mal dellas sin que a
si mismo se desonrre, porque fue
criado y traydo en entrañas de
muger y es de su misma
sustancia, y despues desto, por el
acatamiento y reuerencia que a
las madres deuen los hijos. La
quinta es por la desobediencia de
Dios, que dixo por su boca que el
padre y la madre fuesen onrrados
y acatados, de cuya causa los
que en las otras tocan merecen
pena. La sesta es porque todo
noble es obligado a ocuparse en
autos virtuosos assi en los hechos
como en las hablas; pues si las
palabras torpes ensusian la
linpieza, muy a peligro de infamia
tienen la onrra de los que en tales
platicas gastan su vida. La setima
es porque quando se establecio la
caualleria, entre las otras cosas
que era tenudo a guardar el que
se armaua cauallero era vna que
a las mugeres guardase toda
reuerencia y onestad, por donde
se conosce que quiebra la ley de
nobleza quien vsa el contrario
della. La otaua es por quitar de
peligro la onrra; los antiguos
nobles tanto adelgazauan las
cosas de bondad y en tanto la
tenian que no auian mayor miedo
de cosa que de memoria culpada;
lo que no me parece que guardan
los que anteponen la fealdad de
la virtud poniendo macula con su
lengua en su fama, que
qualquiera se iuzga lo que es en
lo que habla. La nouena y muy
principal es por la condenacion
del alma. Todas las cosas
tomadas se pueden satisfazer y la
fama robada tiene dudosa la
satisfacion, lo que más
conplidamente determina nuestra
fé. La dezena es por escusar
enemistad. Los que en ofensa de
las mugeres despienden el tiempo
hazense enemigos dellas y no
menos de los virtuosos, que como
la virtud y la desmesura
diferencian la propiedad no
pueden estar sin enemiga. La
onzena es por los daños que de
tal auto malicioso se recrecian,
que como las palabras tienen
licencia de llegar á los oydos
rudos tanbien como a los
discretos, oyendo los que poco
alcançan las fealdades dichas de
las mugeres, arrepentidos de
auerse casado danles mala vida o
vanse dellas, o por ventura las
matan. La dozena es por las
murmuraciones, que mucho se
deuen temer, siendo vn onbre
infamado por disfamador en las
plaças y en las casas y en los
canpos y donde quiera es
retratado su vicio. La trezena es
por razon del peligro, que quando
los maldizientes que son auidos
por tales tan odiosos son a
todos[277] que qualquier les es
mas contrario, y algunas por
satisffazer a sus amigos, puesto
que ellas no lo pidan ni lo
quieran[278], ponen las manos en
los que en todas ponen la lengua.
La catorzena es por la hermosura
que tienen, la qual es de tanta
ecelencia que avnque copiesen
en ellas todas las cosas que los
deslenguados les ponen, más ay
en vna que loar con verdad que
no en todas que afear con
malicia. La quinzena es por las
grandes cosas de que han sido
causa. Dellas nacieron onbres
virtuosos que hizieron hazañas de
dina alabança, dellas procedieron
sabios que alcançaron a conocer
qué cosa era Dios en cuya fé
somos saluos; dellas vinieron los
inuentiuos que hizieron cibdades
y fuerças y edeficios de perpetual
ecelencia; por ellas vuo tan
sotyles varones que buscaron
todas las cosas necesarias para
sustentacion del linage vmanal.

DA LERIANO VEYNTE
RAZONES PORQUE
LOS ONBRES SON OBLIGADOS
Á LAS MUGERES
Tefeo, pues as oydo las causas
porque soys culpados tú y todos
lo que opinion tan errada seguis,
dexada toda prolixidad, oye
veynte razones por donde proferí
a prouar que los onbres á las
mugeres somos obligados. De las
quales la primera es porque á los
sinples y rudos disponen para
alcançar la virtud de la prudencia
y no solamente á los torpes hazen
discretos mas á los mismos
discretos mas sotyles, porque si
de la enamorada pasion se
catyuan, tanto estudian su libertad
que abiuando con el dolor el
saber dizen razones tan dulces y
tan concertadas que alguna vez
de compasion que les an se libran
della: y los sinples de su natural
inocentes quando en amar se
ponen entran con rudeza y hallan
el estudio del sentimiento tan
agudo que diuersas vezes salen
sabios, de manera que suplen las
mugeres lo que naturaleza en
ellos faltó. La segunda razon es
porque de la virtud de la iusticia
tanbien nos hazen suficientes,
que los penados de amor, aunque
desygual tormento reciben, hanlo
por descanso iustificandose
porque iustamente padecen: y no
por sola esta causa nos hazen
goçar desta virtud mas por otra
tan natural: los firmes
enamorados para abonarse con
las que siruen buscan todas las
formas que pueden, de cuyo
deseo biuen iustificadamente sin
eceder en cosa de toda ygualdad
por no infamarse de malas
costunbres. La tercera porque de
la tenplança nos hazen dinos, que
por no selles aborrecibles para
venir á ser desamados somos
templados en el comer y en el
beuer y en todas las otras cosas
que andan con esta virtud. Somos
tenplados en la habla, somos
templados en la mesura, somos
templados en las obras, sin que
vn punto salgamos de la onestad.
La quarta es porque al que fallece
fortaleza gela dan, y al que la
tiene gela acrecientan. Hacennos
fuertes para sofrir, causan osadia
para cometer, ponen coraçon
para esperar; quando á los
amantes se les ofrece peligro se
les apareia la gloria, tienen las
afrentas por vicio, estiman mas ell
alabança del amiga quel precio
del largo beuir. Por ellas se
comiençan y acaban hechos muy
hazañosos, ponen la fortaleza en
el estado que merece. Si les
somos obligados aqui se puede
iuzgar. La quinta razon es porque
no menos nos dotan de las
virtudes teologales que de las
cardinales dichas. Y tratando de
la primera ques la fé, avnque
algunos en ella dudasen, siendo
puestos en pensamiento
enamorado creerian en Dios y
alabarian su poder porque pudo
hazer á aquella que de tanta
ecelencia y hermosura les parece.
Iunto con esto los amadores tanto
acostumbran y sostienen la fe que
de vsalla en el coraçon conocen y
creen con más firmeza la de Dios,
y porque no sea sabido de quien
los pena que son malos
cristianos, ques vna mala señal
en el onbre, son tan deuotos
católicos que ningun apostol les
hizo ventaia. La sesta razon es
porque nos crian en el alma la
virtud del esperança, que puesto
que los sugetos á esta ley de
amores mucho penen, siempre
esperan en su fé, esperan en su
firmeza, esperan en la piedad de
quien los pena, esperan en la
condicion de quien los destruye,
esperan en la ventura; ¿pues
quien tiene esperança donde
recibe pasion, como no la terná
en Dios que le promete
descanso? Sin duda haziendonos
mal nos apareian el camino del
bien como por esperiencia de lo
dicho parece. La setena razon es
porque nos hazen merecer la
caridad, la propiedad de la qual
es amor. Esta tenemos en la
voluntad, esta ponemos en el
pensamiento, esta traemos en la
memoria, esta firmamos en el
coraçon, y como quiera que los
que amamos la vsemos por el
prouecho de nuestro fin, dél nos
redunda que con biua contricion
la tengamos para con Dios,
porque trayendonos amor á
estrecho de muerte hazemos
lymosnas, mandamos dezir
misas, ocupamosnos en
caritatiuas obras porque nos libre
de nuestros crueles
pensamientos: y como ellas de su
natural son deuotas, participando
con ellas es forçado que hagamos
las obras que hazen. La otaua
razon, porque nos hazen
contenplatiuos: que tanto nos
damos á la contemplacion de la
hermosura y gracias de quien
amamos y tanto pensamos en
nuestras pasiones, que quando
queremos contenplar la de Dios,
tan tiernos y quebrantados
tenemos los coraçones, que sus
llagas y tormentos parece que
recebimos en nosotros mismos;
por donde se conosce que
tanbien por aquí nos ayudan para
alcançar la perdurable holgança.
La nouena razon es porque nos
hazen contritos, que como siendo
penados pedimos con lagrimas y
sospiros nuestro remedio
acostunbrado en aquello, yendo á
confesar nuestras culpas assi
gemimos y lloramos quel perdon
dellas merecemos. La dezena es
por el buen consejo que sienpre
nos dan, que á las vezes acaece
hallar en su presto acordar, lo que
nosotros con[279] largo estudio y
diligencias buscamos. Son sus
conseios pacificos sin ningund
escandalo, quitan muchas
muertes, conseruan las pazes,
refrenan la yra y aplacan la saña;
sienpre es muy sano su parecer.
La onzena es porque nos hazen
onrrados: con ellas se alcançan
grandes casamientos, muchas
haziendas y rentas. Y porque
alguno podria responderme que la
onrra está en la virtud y no en la
riqueza, digo que tanbien causan
lo vno como lo otro. Ponen nos
presunciones tan virtuosas que
sacamos dellas las grandes
onrras y alabanças que
deseamos; por ellas estimamos
más la verguença que la vida; por
ellas estudiamos todas las obras
de nobleza, por ellas las ponemos
en la cunbre que merecen. La
dozena razon es porque
apartandonos del auaricia nos
iuntan con la libertad, de cuya
obra ganamos las voluntades de
todos; que como largamente nos
hazen despender lo que tenemos,
somos alabados y tenidos en
mucho amor, y en qualquier
necesidad que nos sobrevenga
recebimos ayuda y seruizio; y no
solo nos aprouechan en hazernos
usar la franqueza como deuemos,
mas ponen lo nuestro en mucho
recaudo porque no ay lugar
donde la hazienda esté mas
segura que en la voluntad de las
gentes. La trezena es porque
acrecientan y guardan nuestros
averes y rentas, las quales
alcanzan los onbres por ventura y
conseruanlas ellas con diligencia.
La catorzena es por la limpieça
que nos procuran asi en la
persona, como en el vestir, como
en el comer, como en todas las
cosas que tratamos. La quinzena
es por la buena criança que nos
ponen, vna de las principales
cosas de que los onbres tienen
necesidad. Siendo bien criados
vsamos la cortesya y esquiuamos
la pesadumbre, sabemos onrrar
los pequeños, sabemos tratar los
mayores; y no solamente nos
hazen bien criados mas bien
quistos, porque como tratamos á
cada vno como merece, cada vno
nos da lo que merecemos. La
razon desiseys es porque nos
hazen ser galanes. Por ellas nos
desuelamos en el vestir, por ellas
estudiamos en el traer, por ellas
nos atauiamos de manera que
ponemos por industria en
nuestras personas la buena
disposicion que naturaleza
algunos negó. Por artificio se
endereçan los cuerpos
pidiendo [280] las ropas con
agudeza y por el mismo se pone
cabello donde fallece y se
adelgazan ó engordan las piernas
si conuiene hazello; por las
mugeres se inuentan los galanes
entretales, las discretas
bordaduras, las nueuas
inuenciones; de grandes bienes
por cierto son causa. La dezisiete
razon es porque nos conciertan la
musica y nos hazen gozar de las
dulcedumbres della: ¿por quién
se asuenan las dulces canciones?
¿por quién se cantan los lindos
romances? ¿por quién se
acuerdan las bozes? ¿porquién
se adelgazan y sotilizan todas las
cosas que en el canto consisten?
La dizeochena es porque crecen
las fuerças á los braceros, y la
maña á los luchadores, y la
ligereza á los que boltean y
corren y saltan y hazen otras
cosas semeiantes. La dezinueue
razon es porque afinan las
gracias. Los que como es dicho
tañen y cantan por ellas, se
desuelan tanto que suben á lo
mas perfeto que en aquella gracia
se alcança. Los trobadores ponen
por ellas tanto estudio en lo que
troban que lo bien dicho hazen
parecer meior, y en tanta manera
se adelgazan que propiamente lo
que sienten en el coraçon ponen
por nueuo y galan estilo en la
cancion ó inuencion ó copla que
quieren hazer. La veyntena y
postrimera razon es porque
somos hijos de mugeres, de cuyo
respeto les somos mas obligados
que por ninguna razon de las
dichas ni de quantas se puedan
dezir. Diuersas razones auía para
mostrar lo mucho que á esta
nacion somos los onbres en
cargo, pero la disposicion mia no
me da lugar á que todas las diga.
Por ellas se ordenaron las reales
iustas y los ponposos torneos y
las alegres fiestas, por ellas
aprouechan las gracias y se
acaban y comiençan todas las
cosas de gentileza; no sé causa
porque de nosotros deuan ser
afeadas. ¡O culpa merecedora de
graue castigo, que porque
algunas ayan piedad de los que
por ellas penan les dan tal
galardon! ¿A qué muger deste