As demon hordes lay waste to human lands, Aric Solarian finds himself thrust into the heart of a war he once sought to prevent. The fall of Drindal marks only the beginning of a devastating assault that threatens to bring the human realm to its knees.
Caught between his duty to protect humanity and his growing connection to the enigmatic demon prince Malekith, Aric must navigate a treacherous path. Their forbidden bond deepens even as the lines of battle are drawn, challenging everything Aric once believed about his enemies.
But as a mysterious magical anomaly threatens both realms, Aric discovers that the key to salvation may lie in the very power he fears. Forced to undergo brutal trials that will test his loyalty and push him to his limits, Aric must decide how far he's willing to go to uncover the truth.
With time running out and the fate of two worlds hanging in the balance, can Aric master his newfound abilities and find a way to bridge the divide between human and demon? Or will his dangerous obsession with forbidden magic be the undoing of everything he's fought to protect?
Content Note
This book contains fictional descriptions of torture, graphic violence, and sexual situations with dubious consent and significant power imbalances.
Also by Vera Winters
Shadowbound
Shadowbound, Book 3 (Coming October 2024)
The Starlight Sanctum
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One
Aric Solarian didn’t need his magic to feel the demon lords’ hunger all around him. Inside the Wrathgate, the stronghold of Sovereign Zaxos, the supreme leader of all the demon realms, it was a living thing, a roiling miasma that filled the room, thick as brimstone. The chains on his wrists and the collar at his throat were just another heavy reminder of his situation. He inhaled the heat of the Wrathforge, and tried to gather his thoughts as the stench of fell weapons being forged in the citadel’s depths wafted all around him and Zaxos’s courtiers slithered on the edge of his vision. Their shadowy forms gathered around him mottled the scent with their own as they called forth their own magics and exchanged their own murmurs.
He forced himself to stand tall, to hold his ground, even as it all reminded him, with every slow scrape of chain against metal, every seeping wisp of sulfur on the air, every hard gold gaze that raked over him—of what he truly was in the eyes of the demons. Not a great mage, as he’d once hoped to be, not a master of his craft, not a warrior of any skill. A pet, a trinket, a pretty, fragile thing to be paraded around and shown off, if he was lucky, and cast aside if he was not.
But not a threat. Never a threat.
He bit his lip to keep from wincing as the guards shoved him forward, and he scurried into place beside the demon prince’s chair.
Prince Malekith, the sole remaining scion of House Ixion, a once-great demon house now reduced to only one. Malekith, who had breached a human outpost for no reason other than to pluck Aric from his fate and put him on a leash as Malekith dangled the prospect of Aric’s knowledge of the human realm’s defenses before this assembled court. Malekith, who’d uncovered an unfortunate scheme by Lord Darioth to slaughter his pet human before Aric had truly served any use, and was left with no option but to slay Darioth instead, and offer the Sovereign the greatest prize of all: knowledge of how to dismantle the human realms’ wards.
So the story went. All according to Malekith’s plan, if Malekith could be believed. Yes, it was Malekith’s show. His grand performance, and Aric—Aric was just another one of his props.
He might have laughed at the thought, if laughter didn’t taste so much like his own fear.
The demon on the Onyx Throne rose, and the chamber fell silent, save for the clinking of Aric’s chains as the Sovereign raised himself to his full height. Slowly, he strode down from the dais of his throne, hooves clacking at a torturously unhurried pace. Sovereign Zaxos’s sight swept over the gathered court, and the air all but shivered with the force of his will. Aric’s blood curdled in his veins as the ancient demon lord fixed his burning eyes on him, and Aric had to fight to keep the revulsion off his face.
He was the reason they were all here, after all. The reason the demon court had been called to order. The reason Malekith had something to prove.
Zaxos’s voice was a low, rumbling growl, the sound of an avalanche in the distance. “Let the matter of the human wards be brought before the council.”
Malekith’s hand settled on Aric’s shoulder, a deceptively gentle touch. Aric’s instincts screamed at him to flinch away, but he held himself still. He deserved no comfort from the demon prince, not after what he’d done.
“We are prepared to present our invasion strategy, in light of the information provided by the human mage,” Malekith said, his voice a honeyed blade.
Zaxos’s eyes flicked toward Malekith, and for a brief moment, something passed between them, something that made the air around them sizzle. Aric strained to see, to understand, but it was gone in an instant, and Zaxos turned his attention back to the rest of the council.
“Then let it be heard.”
Malekith rose from his seat, his hand trailing over Aric’s neck before falling away. Aric’s skin felt scalded, as if he’d been branded, and he fought the urge to retreat, to hide. But there was no escape from this, no way to take back what he’d done. He could only stand there, chained and helpless, and watch as the consequences unfolded.
And pray that he might find some way to turn them to his advantage.
“Though it is most unfortunate that Lord Darioth sought to kill our golden mage before he could offer up the details . . .” Malekith jerked his head imperiously, letting their carefully woven story sink in. “It is my pleasure to provide you all now with a renewed campaign. One that will allow us to breach the human wards and strike right at their heart, if we have the courage to seize this chance.”
Aric watched him, his heart pounding in his ears. Malekith moved with a confidence that bordered on arrogance, his every step a challenge, a taunt. He was a predator circling his prey, and the court of demons gathered around them were all too eager to be swept up in his wake.
But Aric knew better. He’d seen the cracks in Malekith’s facade, the moments of vulnerability that the demon prince thought he’d hidden. They were there, buried deep, but they were there, and Aric would cling to them, like a lifeline in the storm.
