Road to Salvation: Darkness Prevails, #3

By Ciara Graves

A black-eyed, white-haired dark fae with a short fuse.
Her resume: Dark Fae. Assassin. Badass. Now she's added exile to it.
She's hellbent on redemption. Maybe even a little bit of vengeance. Okay, maybe a whole lot of vengeance.

• Language: English
• Publisher: CiaGra
• Release date: May 10, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393597421

Book preview

Road to Salvation

Darkness Prevails Book Three

A black-eyed, white-haired dark fae with a short fuse.

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Her resume: Dark Fae. Assassin. Badass. Now she’s added exile to it.

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She’s hellbent on redemption. Maybe even a little bit of vengeance. Okay, maybe a whole lot of vengeance.

Chapter 1

Aiden

I frowned and tried to open my eyes, but they were too heavy. A weight resided on my chest, and when I attempted to shift, pain immediately followed. I gave up and continued to eavesdrop on Iona and Henson, arguing. Boots stomped across a hardwood floor, and Henson cursed quietly.

Will you stop pacing, Iona. He’s going to live, according to the healer.

I can’t sit still. Not right now.

You’ve been up for five days. Drag a cot over and get some damned rest before you die from exhaustion. You really think Aiden wants to come to just so I can tell him that you’re ready to keel over yourself?

She scoffed. We both know I’m already dying. So what if I speed up the process. You don’t have to be here. You know that, right?

Someone has to keep an eye on you.

I don’t need a babysitter, Iona snapped, and her anger pulsed around me. I know you and Jig have been talking behind my back. I’m not losing it. I’m not about to run off to kill Venkalth. Just get out of here and stop staring at me like I’m going to self-combust.

With your luck, you just might.

The silence stretched on between them, and I drifted back to sleep--or started to—until Henson’s low voice rumbled again. I didn’t catch what he said, but whatever it was pissed Iona off even more.

Leave it, Henson.

You need more eye drops, and from the way Jig was talking to you last night, your hearing is getting worse. Henson sighed.

I fought in vain to open my damned eyes, move my hand, something. Why was it so hard to simply move? What happened to me?

Henson continued, The venom inside you isn’t going to take a holiday just because Aiden’s starting to recover. Stay on top of it.

Or what? Iona asked harshly.

You know damned well what. Venkalth will win. Is that what you want? For him to steal another man you care about? And then you?

Can we talk about something else, please? Like how we’ve been here for almost a week, and Their Highnesses have yet to meet with us to talk about anything? And all this time, more goblins are being rounded up by Mariana and Reyson, in order to be forced into their damned army. There was another long stretch of silence then a rush of steps. I’m going to speak to them.

They said they would summon us when they were ready. If you go out there looking like that, they’ll throw you in the cells.

Right. Probably cells made of sunshine and freaking rainbows.

My lips twitched in a smile, and then a familiar hand was squeezing mine. I squeezed back as hard as I could, and Iona’s lips pressed against my forehead. I longed to see her face and wondered why I was even in such a state of pain and hovering between consciousness and passing out.

Rest, Aiden, Iona said quietly. You’re not fully healed yet.

Healed? The word came out like a croak, and this time when I tried to open my eyes, they did. Iona’s worried face looked back at me. Behind her stood Henson. He nodded to me, then stepped out of the room. Iona, where are we?

Her face was bruised, but they were fading. She wore long sleeves and black pants, preventing me from seeing what other injuries she might have. Her smile was sad as she sank onto the edge of the bed.

We’re safe, that’s all that matters right now.

The facility, I murmured, but she shushed me gently.

Sleep, Aiden. We’ll talk about it later. She kissed my forehead, and my eyes slipped closed. A rush of images shot through my mind, but then they were gone, and I drifted away into the shadows once again.

I stood in a room with white walls and a white tile floor. Computers beeped around me, and the air was stale, like I was underground. The windows told me I wasn’t, but the entire atmosphere was strange. Bit by bit, desks and tables materialized around me. I staggered back when the dead body of a fae shimmered into view at my feet. Then another and another.

What is this place? I spun around, looking for more.

They were scattered about. Blood pooled beneath their bodies, and most looked back at me, eyes filled with fear or confusion. When I found myself facing forward again, Iona was there, but her back was to me.

Iona? Where are we? I walked toward her with my hand outstretched. Iona?

Had she gone deaf again? As my hand was about to land on her shoulder, she disappeared as if she hadn’t even been there. I paused and glanced around, frantic to find her. The lights flickered, and when they become stable again, there she was, across the room from me. Her back was to the far wall. A figure appeared through a set of metal double doors. A figure dressed all in white. Venkalth. He winked at me as a dagger appeared in his hand. He took off at a run for Iona. Her back was turned.

Iona! I sprinted after him, praying I’d get there in time. I shouted her name repeatedly, but she couldn’t hear me. Venkalth was nearly on her when I threw myself between them. The knife meant for her plunged into my chest. I gasped at the agony exploding inside me.

Venkalth cackled as he let go of the blade, then vanished. I struggled to keep breathing and stumbled into Iona. I grabbed for the blade, her name on my lips.

Her eyes were solid white. She tilted her head, as if straining to hear me. When I grabbed her hand, she flinched and pulled away. The blade that had protruded from my chest was suddenly gone. I ran my hands over myself, all the same, searching for a wound. There was none. I’d been stabbed. I knew I’d been stabbed.

Aiden, Iona whispered.

I whipped my head up to see black blood oozing from her mouth, her ears, and her eyes. She choked on it gave way to darkness and fog. I caught her as she fell forward and held her as we hit the ground. Her eyes grew wide, and then her body went completely still.

No. I shook her, but her limp arm simply fell to the ground and stayed there. Iona! Open your eyes, damn it. You’re not dead. You can’t be dead.

I shouted and ranted, begging for her to take a breath. But she never did. I hugged her lifeless body close and waited for the darkness to consume me, too.

Laughter pulled my gaze up as Venkalth’s figure appeared through the fog. He held another dagger in his hand, this one dripping a lime green, viscous substance I knew had to be Reaper Venom.

You’re next, healer, he warned then charged forward.

I threw my arm up to try and stop him when another hand grabbed me.

Aiden, wake up, a harsh voice snapped. Aiden.

My eyes shot open, and I sucked in a painful breath. Jig had hold of my upper arms. What… Venkalth, he was here. I searched behind him, but aside from a broad-shouldered fae warrior, there was no one there. Nightmare.

I’d say so. You were shouting pretty loud. He let me go and eyed my chest worriedly. How’s that wound feeling?

Wound? I glanced down and gingerly touch the bandages wrapped around my chest.

Do you not remember anything?

I peeled back the bandaging and found a set of stitches, pulling my skin tightly together. Stabbed, I whispered. I was stabbed by Venkalth.

His wicked grin as he plunged the dagger into my chest flashed in my mind. I flinched and quickly covered the wound. He hadn’t been aiming for me. He’d been going for Iona, and I got in the way. Damn. She had to be pissed at me.

You were. You’re lucky we made it to Briar as fast as we did.

Briar? Why are we in the light fae kingdom? What about the farm?

Jig’s brows drew together, and his eyes darkened. You don’t need to know about that yet. You need to keep resting so the healer’s tonic will work.

I’m well enough. The farm, Jig, why aren’t we there?

He shook his head and started for the door. I grabbed his arm. He could’ve easily torn himself free, but he stopped.

Don’t burden yourself just yet.

Where’s Iona?

Tending to matters involving our current predicament.

She was arguing with Henson earlier. Can she see? Has the venom gotten worse?

That’s not something I’m willing to discuss with you, he replied and gently pried my arm off. If you want to know how Iona’s doing, you’ll have to ask her yourself.

Grimacing when the stitches tugged, I stood and searched for my shirt. There was nothing in the room aside from the bed I’d been sleeping on, an end table, lamp, and a chair in the far corner. The walls were painted a happy shade of sky blue, and there was a double window with white curtains. It was late evening judging by the fading light outside. The floor beneath my bare feet was a warm shade of mahogany. I’d been to the light fae kingdoms several times but never stayed in a place as nice as this.

Where in Briar are we exactly? I asked Jig as I continued to search for a shirt.

Capital. In one of the royal chateaus. We’re currently guests of Princess Willow, he replied. What are you looking for?

A shirt. Probably shouldn’t walk around without one, especially if we’re guests of the princess.

Or staying in her home, he added with an arched brow. You really should stay here a bit longer.

We’re at her chateau? Why?

Iona.

He said it like that should answer all my questions. Instead, it created more. He told me to stay put, and he’d find me a shirt if I was so determined to hunt down Iona. He wasn’t gone more than five minutes, but my mind shot off in all different directions in his absence. How had we gotten to the kingdom of Briar? Where were Teresa and Matilda? Or the rest of the goblins I’d been looking after on the farm?

By the time Jig returned with a black t-shirt in hand, I was anxious to find Iona and have her explain to me what I missed these last… wait, how many days had I been out?

How long have we been here? I asked Jig as I walked toward the door.

A week.

My hand hovered on the doorknob. I’d be an idiot to think a lot hadn’t occurred in that amount of time, not with the way events had been playing out recently. I opened the door and stepped into a brightly lit hallway. Jig was behind me. Each step sent a jarring pain through my right side, and I held my hand to the chest wound I’d suffered at the hands of Venkalth. Knowing I stopped him from killing Iona was probably the only thing that kept me pushing forward. At the end of the hall, I stopped and glanced left, then right.

Which way? I asked Jig as he stepped up beside me.

You sure you want to find Iona?

I waited for him to give in.

Turn right.

I turned and eventually came to a set of gilded double doors guarded by two fae men. They weren’t wearing armor, not like the guards wore in the dark fae kingdoms. They wore all white, and the sight of it made my blood turn cold until I reminded myself neither one was Venkalth. They weren’t armed. I wondered what good they would be at guarding the princess. I could’ve been there to kill her, and they wouldn’t be able to do a damned thing to stop me.

Aiden? Jig asked quietly. Do you need to sit down?

No, why?

You’re pale.

I pressed a hand to my chest and shook my head. It wasn’t my wound bothering me. It was the thought that just raced through my mind, like it was natural for me to imagine an assassination attempt on a royal. I never used to wonder about any sort of danger aside from a breakout of the pox or a broken limb. Everything about my life these past few months has become dark and full of peril. I told myself a long time ago I’d never get wrapped up in any politics. Now here I was getting myself stabbed because I let myself fall for a half-fae, half-goblin warrior. Jeric. Why did it feel like the late king knew what he was doing this whole time?

Is Iona in there? I asked the guards after I got a hold of myself.

She is, the one on the right answered.

Great, let me in.

Iona is speaking with Princess Willow and her council, the guard informed me. They are not to be interrupted.

I stepped closer. You’ll open those doors and let me in.

The guard stiffened, his hand twitching to his hip, where there was indeed the smallest of daggers. I smirked. After facing down Venkalth twice now, plus the radicals that nearly killed Iona, a tiny blade did nothing to deter me. I took another step nearer.

Now would be nice, I said.

The guard glanced at his companion. He shrugged, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. Whatever they saw on my face convinced them to step to the side and open the doors.

I think Iona’s rubbing off on you, Jig commented as the doors swung inward silently.

Is that a good thing?

I’m not sure yet. He motioned for me to lead the way, and I stepped into the room.

The ceiling was non-existent, or at least it appeared to be so. The capital of Briar was located somewhere on the coastline in northern Oregon. It was winter here, just like everywhere else, but the ceiling was an illusion, showing a bright, sunny day. Candles hovered in the air, lighting the rest of the area, though they weren’t needed. The light fae always had a flair for the dramatics. Silk drapes of violet and blue hung from stone columns that formed the perimeter. Paintings of long-gone fae kings and queens filled the spaces in between. Windows glimmered with the light of the setting sun outside. The stained glass cast rainbows of colors across the hardwood floor.

A long rectangular table sat at the front of the room, surrounded by high-backed