Onyx Eclipse (The Raven Queen's Harem Book 5)
Angel Lawson
Bunny
Moonlight peeks through the arched windows, casting my studio in a dark shadow. The light is different here. The lack of electricity and the ever-present candles, torches, and fires give off a yellowish glow. The difference makes for a challenge when mixing the paint, because the process must be exact. The image on one side must match the other, regardless of lighting, toxins, or weather.
Closing my eyes, I bring to mind the scene that I want to paint, the one that will bring the two worlds together. I may as well paint lightning, an earthquake or hurricane. The result will be the same.
Over the past few weeks, the cold of the castle has settled in my bones. I wonder if that’s part of the Goddess’ magic, leeching the warmth from us slowly, methodically. Surely she feeds—Morgan does—Anita, too. I know Anita drank from Morgan’s lips, taking the virus from her to spread across the city, stealing power from every victim. The true Goddess of War asks for nothing but blood and despair.
Maybe that’s why it’s so cold.
She’s sucked the place dry.
I pass the shattered remains of the mirror, ignoring the reflective shards of glass. I can’t look at myself now. I’m not sure if I ever will again. I am the betrayer of my mate, of my Guards and brothers. Even if I had my reasons, none will ever justify me to their eyes.
Or even my own.
Opening the container I brought from Tran, I sprinkle in a small amount of the powder, mixing it in with the indigo. If Dylan had stopped me…I didn’t know what to think would be the result if I hadn’t returned. I heard the blade connect with the canvas. He damaged the painting. A similar cut is slashed through the painting near the fireplace. It’s useless now. I’ll toss it in the fire.
I exhale and stare at the fresh white board before me and dip my brush in the paint. The process soothes me. It always has, but tonight the dungeons are full and the Goddess cleverly placed my studio right above them. Casteel, the brutish head guard handpicked by the Morrigan, normally stalks the hallways. Not now. She’s finally given him playthings, and I easily hear the screams of my brothers echoing off the flat walls.
Do I feel the guilt of my transgressions? Yes, immensely, but it’s chased by the frozen reach of my mistress across the barren castle floors.
I made a choice. The call no one else was willing to make. With another breath to steady my hand, I start on the canvas mounted on the easel before me.
The war isn’t over. It’s only just beginning.
Chapter 1
Morgan
There’s little doubt in my mind that they’re dead.
That’s the thought that haunts my mind each and every day. The idea--no, the image of them alone with that malicious, spiteful, bitch worms its way into my heart, and I can’t let it go.
Why would she keep them alive? Every breath they take is a danger to her. Every day that passes, a threat. That’s what I tell myself, refusing to believe my Guardians--who are strong, ferocious warriors, created by the hands of powerful, ancient gods--would not have returned by now if they were still alive.
They have to be dead.
I cross the massive room and pass the stacks of newspapers on the table without looking down. I know the headlines.
Strange Sickness Baffles Scientists
Virus Overwhelms Local Hospitals
The Next Plague?
Surrounding the newspapers are books, dozens of books, all open, with smudged, worn paper. Dylan reads them over and over, desperately looking for the one thing that can open the gate to the Otherside from our realm.
I intended to do two things.
One, to bring the bodies back.
Two, to kill the Morrigan.
At least, that’s my plan.
I push back the curtain surrounding Dylan’s bed. The fabric creates a dark cave inside the expansive attic studio. He’s asleep, a rarity in the weeks since Bunny betrayed us. The bed is massive, a king-sized sleigh bed made of the darkest wood. I stare down at the hard planes of his bare chest, my eyes lingering over his abs and the sharp cut V under his navel. His shorts cling to his hips. I zero in on the purple blemish at the base of his neck, the one I gave him two days ago, finally fading. I should do it again. Mark him. Make it known that no one is taking this one from me, and if they try, blood will be shed.
I’m not losing another one.
He rolls to his side, muscles tense even in his sleep. His jaw is locked, resulting in tight cords down his neck. Neither of us can relax, caught in an emotional hell of worry and rage. When the Morrigan took my guardians, my mates, she stole not only a chunk of my soul but the bright flame of my power. When Bunny betrayed me, he removed any chance of us fighting back. I must have all five of my mates to complete the circle of power. Something he knew and therefore distanced himself from me so we didn’t physically bond.
Bunny.
I still can’t wrap my head around his betrayal. For what purpose? Did he truly feel neglected? Had I pushed him aside?
Despite his actions, his absence leaves a cold hole in my frayed heart. I’d meant it when I claimed him as a mate. I didn’t realize he was faking it all for a way to increase the Morrgian’s control of the Darkness and the fall of our world.
I swallow back the rage and look down at Dylan, my only guardian. My only conduit. I needed five. I had four, one is lost and now only one remains. I am thankful for his strength, for his unrelenting service to my needs; his commitment to stoking the flames. My powers are nothing but a flicker in the growing Darkness.