Story of the Forsaken: The World of the Fallen Gates, #2

By Ariana Cane

"The blood will flow,
The seed will grow,
The life will end,
But the world will hold."

"His memories are dark. But they only highlight my own darkness."

Darriel

She's destined to be the end of everything or the savior of us all. All this time, I've been lurking in the shadows. The darkness that swallows the light.

They think she's not one of us, but they don't know the real enemy.
I have secrets, and once she learns them, it'll be the end of me, and maybe everyone else, too.

But she chose to be the light right as I chose to fully immerse myself into the darkness.

Sadie

I've been deceived by everyone I know. Forsaken by my own people, deemed a traitor. My true people. What do I have left?

My humanity. And I'm clinging to every last straw. He might be the last one who still believes me to be human. Somewhat.

He tells me to stay away from him, but his actions prove otherwise.

He is a king of mixed signals, hiding behind too many secrets. Bossy, possessive, hungry. But I'm drawn like a moth to the light while he claims to be the darkness.

They told me I'll be the end of everything. But they are wrong.
I am the beginning. 
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This is the second part of the duet where all the questions will be answered. This is NOT a standalone. Please, read the first part before diving into this one. Strong language and adult situations. 18+. EXTREME slow burn.
Note from the author: Darriel is a definition of a morally gray character, and I love him for that. I hope you will too:)

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ariana Cane
• Release date: Oct 23, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223430650

Book preview

Story of the Forsaken

Story of the Forsaken

Story of the Forsaken

THE WORLD OF THE FALLEN GATES

BOOK TWO

ARIANA CANE

Ariana Cane

Copyright © 2023 by Ariana Cane

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in book reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, contact the author at the contact form @arianacane.com

Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Names, characters, and places are products of the author’s imagination.

First printed edition June 2023.

Cover designer: Books and Moods.

Editor: Anna Noel.

Proofreader: Lauren Alexander.

arianacane.com

Contents

Prologue

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

Epilogue

Afterword

Terms

Let’s stay in touch

Warning

Prologue

Twenty-five years ago

The pain hit her straining back as if someone’s fist was trying to rip her spine out of her body. Tears clouded her already blurry vision.

Her contractions were becoming more frequent. When a new wave hit, she cried out, calling for help. But none of her own people, those who would understand what her mistake truly meant and would be able to help, were around.

Maybe that was a blessing in disguise.

Childbirth. Something she didn’t anticipate experiencing. At least, not there and not then.

She and her husband already had one child, a beautiful dark-haired boy with big blue eyes, a carbon copy of his father who was born a few months before she crossed worlds. A perfect human boy she adopted as her own when she fell in love with his father.

She hoped that this baby would look just like him too. She begged the universe for it, even though she knew the chances were slim—her blood was too strong, and heritage undeniable.

Her husband was at work, and she couldn’t reach the phone to call him. Falling on the floor, she cried out again. Something was wrong, very wrong. Little Jason came downstairs from his room, his little feet bare on the cold floor.

Hey, honey. You have to call your father for me. Okay? A new contraction hit, but she had to swallow the pain for fear of scaring him. Remember, I told you about the phone and the numbers on the paper? she asked, her voice calm in comparison to her thoughts.

He nodded, dropping his teddy bear. His mom needed his help, so he had to be a big boy.

Good. That’s good. She ground her teeth as another wave hit. You have to take this paper and dial those numbers on the phone. Can you do that for me?

He took off toward the kitchen without a question. Only three and a half years old, he was so smart. Pulling a stool from the table, twice his size, he dragged it over to the phone. It hung so high on the wall, so it took him a while to grab it. Holding the piece of paper in his little hands, he dialed the numbers on the handset and waited. Someone picked up after the third ring.

Hello? the voice said, but Jason didn’t answer. Hearing his mom cry out again, he dropped the phone and sprinted back to her.

The phone hung from the cord and hit the wall with a gentle thud.

Hello, hello! someone was yelling on the other end, hearing her cries.

The blood was everywhere. Something was very wrong. It wasn’t supposed to be like that, not with her kind. A childbirth was sacred and didn’t come with pain, not like that anyway—a gift from their creator. This pain… it was human. For the first time, she feared she could lose her child, maybe even her own life before she completed the mission. But she also worried that her baby boy, who was staring at her with big, round eyes, would always remember her like that. Bloody and hopeless.

She leaned on the floor and told him, Jason, honey. I need strawberries. I want them so much right now. Can you go and pick them fresh from the garden?

The boy nodded and ran to the kitchen. He was so focused. His mom needed strawberries—they would make her feel better. He grabbed the biggest plate he could find in the lower cabinets and ran outside.

She cried again. Not in pain this time, but fear. She knew something was wrong—she felt the air shift when the baby was coming. She knew this world was accepting this special child. She also knew what it meant for the future of this baby—empty and nothing.

Lariela! Lariela! Her husband arrived, and he knelt next to her. Now everything would be okay. He was here, her strong human husband who was a better man than any of the powerful warriors she’d known.

Something is wrong, Mike. She gripped his hand. She’s not coming out. I don’t even feel her! She cried again.

Everything will be fine. The doctor is on the way. He held her hand, convincing them both that it would be okay. He’d always known this day might come, but he wasn’t ready.

A contraction hit her so hard this time that she couldn’t control herself, gripping his hand in her powerful one. He felt a bone crack but didn’t complain. He would take a thousand broken bones if it could make her feel better. The air became more electrified with each new contraction. One after another, until she heard a scream. Looking up, she saw Mike holding a baby girl in his hands. Her baby girl who was never supposed to exist.

But she did. As a loud resistance to all the plans everyone might have had.

For a moment, all they could hear was the loud pop of anything electrical around them; all they could see was sparks as her baby cried in her husband’s arms. Something blew inside of the fridge. The TV screen exploded. The toaster jumped, spitting out smoke.

But the air around them was electrified with acceptance.

She looked down at the baby girl in her human husband’s hands. She is so beautiful, so perfect, she thought, smiling at their little baby. Her daughter had shining, platinum hair, matted in blood.

You’re leaving, aren’t you? he asked, raw sadness in his eyes.

Lariela nodded. Her worst fear came true: her baby was like her, and now everyone would know it.

Chapter

One

Darriel

I had him. I had him in my own fucking hands.

And I let him go. Fuck.

I waited years for a chance. Years. And the opportunity just presented itself. The moment I stepped into that shitty flowery madness—Gods, I hate that fae crap—I smelled him. And when I saw her on that bed, beaten, bloodied, half-dead, I smelled him on her. I knew what it meant even without drinking any of her blood. The bastard charmed his way into her pants. Now or then—it doesn’t matter. The asshole is a menace, and he’s done what I can’t, been the only place I can’t go. The only place I can’t go.

Ever. Never.

The second I do, it’s over. We’re all fuckin’ doomed.

We can’t afford it. Not anymore. One mistake is one too many in this everlasting war. I must step over my honor and desires and do what I must. I need to keep my word. My urges versus many lives. I’m a selfish bastard for even considering it, but I can’t help it.

I could hear his bones cracking under the pressure of my fingers. His windpipe being crushed, his air leaving his lungs. I could hear the sweet sound of life slowly leaving his body. I was finally getting the revenge that I’d been longing for.

Until she touched my shoulder with her tiny, shaking hand.

Just like that, I was brought back to harsh reality. Not many people get to have their revenge. Usually, the second you think you have it, you’re the one smacked onto the cold, hard ground.

I hate her for it. Hate her.

She asked me to let him go. I tried to shut her out, I did. Calling every fiber of my primitive nature to the surface, the very nature looking for blood and gore, trying to shut her out. But she pleaded. The woman dared to plead for the fae’s life.

She cared about him—cared if he lived or died. She still does. After all the things he’s done to her, she cares. Un-fucking believable.

And what was more unbelievable was that I let him go. I can’t even remember why. But. I. Let. Him. Go. He was right—I might not have another chance. Two was more than enough, and I fucked it all up.

I want to scream and kill and destroy. Because of her. For her.

And for me.

I hate myself even more. And Garrett, for being right. Again. The bastard always turns out to be right.

I take a few deep breaths, hoping it will take me off the edge, but the urge is still there. I lift my gaze to find hers, the source of my problems, and find her standing right there, a few feet away, watching me.

Sadie’s eyes are on mine, demanding answers I can’t give her. The fae showing up here was both a positive and negative thing. He spilled too much information and gave her too many things to think about. I knew it may happen, and I took the risk anyway, greedy for vengeance.

The moment I smelled him on her, I knew he’d show up eventually. He would come for her, and enraged by jealousy and our past, I would slice him open. I hoped I could do it before he said too much. But the moment I saw her face when he showed up, my plans changed. I wanted to see how far they’ve gone together, what she’d be willing to do for him.

I needed it.

I guess I got my answer.

Honestly, I didn’t expect to see so much hurt on her face when she figured out my lie. I didn’t know how all of that influenced her. I thought she wasn’t affected by what’s been going on between us. She might look like a fae, but she still doesn’t feel like one. I didn’t know how strong her fae blood would take over her instincts.

Fuck Garrett for being right.

My fists tighten, forcing myself not to strangle her for stopping me. I have myself to blame too. I should have known better.

Sadie doesn’t move. Her eyes are narrowed into tiny slits as she drills a hole in my head.

Tell me, Darriel, how did the Gates fall? Her voice is as sharp as a sword, meant to kill. How did he find this place so easily? Her cute, tiny nostrils flare. And what else am I missing, huh? Is this the grand finale of your warped master plan?

Her shoulders square as she quotes the asshole. Her proud stance reminds me of a warrior readying for battle.

It’s sexy as fuck, and I feel myself harden. My desires nearly take over but I stop the moment I remember that she let him kiss her. Because I’m a breath away from doing the same.

I attempt to remain as impassionate as possible as I meet her gaze.

It doesn’t concern you, human. I walk past her to the fire, holding my breath as to not inhale her sweet scent.

She turns around and grabs my arm, determined to get her answers. Like she can.

Tell me, Darriel, she persists. What was he talking about? Her voice changes. She’s pleading, just as she did before.

I hate it. But for some incomprehensible reason, I can’t resist it. And the worst part, there was trust in her eyes. Fucking trust. It’s another thing for me to break.

Her eyes dart between mine as understanding dawns in them.

Darriel? Her voice is gentler, heartbroken. You will destroy me, won’t you? Her eyes turn misty, and I swallow a dry lump in my throat, not knowing how to tell her that she’s right.

How do I tell her I’ll be breaking my heart along with hers? How do I tell her that I had a first-row seat when the Gates fell? How do I tell her I was the star of that fucking disaster?

And how do I tell her that I knew her mother, and I’m breaking a promise I made to her?

Sometimes knowledge is pain.

I take the few steps separating us, only stopping once I’m an inch away from her. She looks up at me, her eyes round and innocent.

You will be saving the world. That’s all you need to know. I inhale because I’m a masochist, and the moment her scent hits my nose, it starts playing dirty tricks with my mind. I can’t tell you more, Sadie. I wish I could, but I can’t. I lean closer, breathing more of her intoxicating pheromones. Don’t make me lie to you by asking questions I can’t answer. I let my forehead drop to hers, and she gasps.

I already told you I want to help. Why do you need to lie? she whispers, clearly as affected by our proximity as I am.

I can’t tell you the truth. I touch my nose to her skin, enjoying the sweet notes of sweat and anger.

Why? Her breath fans a couple strands of my hair, and they tickle my nose.

Because the truth will destroy you. And that’s why you have to stay away from me.

Her face twists with concern.

Tell me how you and Andriel are connected. She licks her lips, and I want to follow her tongue. Please tell me that at least.

Contemplating how much I can share with her, I decide on telling her the bits of the story where I wasn’t the bad guy. Carefully chosen moments I can share at my own free will. Not those wild, shameful pieces she’ll see while drinking my blood.

He was there when the first Gate fell. He was the first one to step through.

Not that, she whispers, closing her eyes. Her breathing becomes faster. How do you know him?

I sigh before talking. He was there when I was imprisoned.

Imprisoned? she asks, her green eyes seem giant in the moonlight. By the faes? Was that when you were lashed too?

I want to tell her more. I want to tell her everything she wants to know, but not here and not right now. If she knows the truth, she might get upset. And if she gets upset, she might leave. Or worse—cry, and if that happens, we’re done, because the more time we spend together, the more I have to acknowledge how really right Garrett was.

She turns on her heel, her hair whipping in the mellow wind, and heads for the trees where she made her little tent.

Where are you going? I call out, not ready to be done with her. I want to see her fight. I want her to hate me. To push back.

I’m going to bed. Since you’re not going to tell me anything, I don’t see the point of wasting my breath on you.

Isn’t that precisely what I wanted?

How do you know that? I narrow my eyes at her back.

She lets out a loud snort, loud enough for any predator to hear, that’s for sure. I welcome them all here—I could use some time to relax.

She turns to me, stung. You like to play charades, giving me riddles just to confuse me even more. I’m not a plaything. I’m done asking. But also, she lifts her finger in the air, I’m done listening. I will be making my own rules now.

The fuck you are, I growl at her defiance.

Oh yes, I will. She pops her hips, and the curve of her thigh turns even more delicious. I would love to touch it with my tongue, trace the thin veins under her skin. Sink my teeth into her flesh…

I feel myself harden once more. The thought of tasting her skin and probably her blood… My mouth waters just as my level of aggravation rises. This obsession has to stop. I might have to get laid somewhere, because walking around with constant wood in my pants is getting old and quite annoying.

Nothing to say? she asks, her brow quirked as if hoping I would fight back. Precisely what I was planning for—fucking hypocrite I am.

I’m not saying anything, I level her with a stare, because what you said doesn’t matter. But I’m not even totally aware of what is coming out of my mouth, as all my blood is elsewhere. You will have to listen to survive around here.

Really? She takes a step toward me, a challenge in her big, sparkling eyes. Like survival was ever in the cards for me.

The light in them dims a notch, and lead settles in my chest, pressing on the bones of my rib cage from the insides. I squeeze my jaw tight, not knowing what to say. I know she doesn’t deserve to be lied to. She suspects what will happen to her. Well, maybe not why or how, but she has already accepted how her story will end.

And I fucking hate it.

Yeah, didn’t think so. She pulls her silver mane over her shoulder and starts braiding it. And we have a long way to go, so I’m not wasting my time, her eyes dart down my body before slinking back up with clear disappointment, on the likes of you anymore.

With that, she silently walks to the tent she made herself.

I swallow my self-hatred. It’s not that far. Another night, maybe. I don’t know why I’m trying to talk when she is clearly done with this conversation.

She stops, and when she looks at me, I can tell that she sees right through my bullshit. When it comes to her, I know I’m not that convincing.

I’ve lost people I’ve loved over and over again in this life. You want to keep your secrets, and that’s okay. She waves her hand dismissively. But if those secrets have to do with my life or my family, all bets are off. And I get the feeling they are, she warns, her voice dropping. There she is. You had your chance to share them with me. Don’t make me go to someone who’s more willing. Because make no mistake, her chin lifts with defiance, this world has done nothing for me but take away the ones I love. And I don’t owe it anything.

That asshole too? I can’t help myself, nodding in the direction the fae disappeared.

Her jaw clamps shut as her eyes turn murderous.

Right or wrong, this is my favorite game to play with her. It sends a thrill through my body. That glint in her eye. The fire in her soul. Even if it’s caused by that fucker, I still crave it. Pathetic.

I walk over to her, slow and steady, watching her from under my lashes. Her eyes flash with a challenge.

What if he is? You wanted to know about my adventures in the Fae lands, after all. Her nostrils flare with anger as her little chin rises even higher in the air. Can you handle an answer you might not like?

Fire lights up in my chest, and all my blood rushes back south again with a vengeance. Mark her, claim her, show her you are the only one.

I don’t listen to it—not much, at least—and instead prowl toward her. Once a few inches away, I smirk. What made you think that I care enough to like it? I hiss.

Her eyes narrow. The hard dick in your pants.

With that, her hand suddenly lands on my hard cock, squeezing it tight. My eyes roll backward in pain and pleasure all at once, and I grind my molars, channeling the pain in a pitiful attempt not to lunge at her and fuck her senseless. By that tree. On the ground. On the stone. In the creek. Everywhere I can have her. I totally didn’t expect her bold move, but my cock sure appreciates it.

And it drives me mad. My own body refusing to cooperate with me since she showed up in my life. Her crazy delicious body removing whatever cells are left in my brain the moment I get a whiff of her scent.

So, I lean into her, trying not to breathe in. I haven’t fucked in days. Don’t get too flattered—it’s not for you.

Her smile is wicked. Yeah, whatever you say to sleep better at night. She lifts on her tippytoes, now just inches from my face. "I know you want me. I feel it. And you know I do too. But as you once said to me, fuck you, Darriel. You are never touching that." She points to herself.

All humor on her face is gone, and I get the feeling she means it. She is not the timid creature I met in the feeding room anymore. She is Sadie, a creature of two worlds who is learning the real price of herself and the currency that runs in her veins. It’s a bad thing for me, but a good thing for everyone else. She will not let my shit slide anymore, and that’s exactly what can keep us apart. If anger is where she gets her strength, I will be feeding it as much as I can.

You are not as desirable as you think you are.

I can see the flash of hurt in her eyes. But this is the only way I can stay away—if she hates me. I can’t bring the world down again.

Her eyes darken as her throat moves with a swallow. Andriel didn’t think so. And just like that, I go back to regretting not killing the fucker when I could.

She starts slowly backing away, keeping her pained eyes on me. I want to go after her and show her what I really feel, but I can’t. I turn away and go back to the fire.

I don’t sleep. Instead, I watch her chest rise and fall in steady rhythm. Her heartbeat is slower, and not only because she’s sleeping. I think the fae side of her is slowly starting to take over, rejecting the human. Just a few days ago, I expected her to have her period so we would be a bloody steak on the road for everyone to find, but today it disappeared. Faes are more like vampires than humans, which is why we don’t have many offspring. It’s unfortunate, but it’s also why replenishing our armies take time and why we don’t overpopulate the planet.

I don’t know what she will become when her fae blood takes over, but I suspect her instincts will intensify, sending us both into a death spiral. I hope with everything I have that she remains fully human a bit longer.

When the sun is up, so is she. Not wasting time for pleasantries, she walks past me toward the creek we saw when we got here. I could follow to make sure no one attacks her, but I decide to give her privacy since I’ll catch a whiff of anyone a mile away.

A few minutes later, she emerges from the trees, collects her belongings—silently—and stands by the dead fire. This is going to be torture for the both of us. Plus, she was right—this world hasn’t done her much good, and I can’t risk her escaping to the Fae when the enemy land clearly accepted her as one of their own, so I need to give her something to interest her in staying here. Anything.

I can’t tell you everything for good reason, I promise. It’s better that you don’t know the extent of all this shit. And this is how I decide to go about it? Real smooth.

Her head whips toward me, her long hair flying behind her back, reflecting the sun in its silver strands. I used to hate it, but I don’t anymore. Really? That’s how you want to start the day?

We have a long journey ahead of us.

You said the Palace is pretty much around the corner. She narrows her eyes, catching me in a lie.

It is, but when we get there, we still have to be around each other. I sigh. I don’t want your days there to be miserable.

She lets out a sad chuckle. My days became miserable when I met you. Literally the moment my life went down in shambles.

I look up at the sky, asking for patience—I wanted her to feel better about this journey, but it’s only getting worse, and I only have myself to thank for that.

Oh, please don’t roll your eyes, she says sarcastically, and I explode, forgetting my intentions of being logical and understanding.

I quickly move toward her. Starving? Running for your life? Looking for something that is not there? That’s the life you want to get back?

Yes, my life was just fine. She bares her teeth, her fists tightening.

Oh yeah? I lean into her. Looking for the fucker who lashed you with a leather whip? And I bet your ass you enjoyed it too, huh? That’s your fine life?

I was looking for hope! she yells into my face. And you took it away from me. Do you think I don’t know what’s waiting for me out there? She points behind me. Oh yeah, I know I’m going to die. I just don’t know how. And all this about giving blood to everyone to cure them? Her eyebrows rise. Oh yeah, I call bullshit. She nearly spits in my face in rage.

I keep my mouth shut in fear of spilling more than I’ve ever intended to.

You owe me the truth, and I will get it at some point.

As I draw closer to her, she takes a step back. And another, until her back is against a tree. I take a step backward and look her up and down, taking in her small frame, her green eyes, and her magnificent silver hair, disgusted at the way her beauty makes me feel inside.

Bringing my face down to hers, keeping my body away, I take a deep breath in. That’s where you’re wrong, Sadie, I hiss her name. I don’t owe you shit.

I could go down this path of her righteous anger and, quite frankly, rightful demands, but I can’t afford to. So instead, my own anger flares up. Toward her, toward the situation. Because fate is a bitch to everyone around me—the moment they know about her existence, it will be over, and I will have to follow through on my end of the deal.

Her breathing becomes ragged, her blood runs faster, drawing me closer without me even noticing it. Her chest barely touching mine as she inhales. I saved your life, she whispers.

You don’t think I would have been in that position in the first place if you hadn’t been holding me back? I ask, painfully aware of how my words slice her heart. They slice mine too. They’re a lie, and my very being is suffering from subjecting her to it.

I know I’m being cruel—it’s in my nature, after all. It’s also needed. It’s the only way to keep her at arm’s length. To keep her from me. To keep everyone in this world alive.

And yet, the bigger part of me, the part I cannot control, draws me to her.

You don’t think, I keep going, playing the part of being a dick to perfection, my lips just above hers, my fingers gripping her chin, that without the need to protect you, I would have been able to get out of there unscathed? I bite out.

I think that if you didn’t want to save me, you wouldn’t have. But for some reason, you did, she spits back. For that reason, I think that I’m worth a hell of a lot more to you than you let on.

Her face warps in a sneer, her eyes flashing with a fire I’ve come to thrive off of.

I pull myself away before I can do something I really regret. Like throwing her over