Page 24 of Hidden Kingdoms

The grey and brown cobblestones spread from the courtyard to meet a wide road, stretching out far ahead and growing darker the further away they got. Winding like a serpent through a large swath of grass that sparkled with the dewdrops that adorned each blade.

A few roads split from the main path, some disappearing into the enormous forest that consumed much of the horizon, trees dark in the low light. Mountains jutted into the sky behind them, peaks topped with snow and accompanied by the rocky slopes of a volcano lazily billowing smoke into the air, an unnerving thin red vein of lava steadily trickling down its ridge.

The vague shape of something larger, maybe some sort of town—though I had no idea which one—appeared as a dark patch past the furthest reaches of the trees. The remnants of fog still clung to its edges.

There was no marker, no sign of where the fuck I was.

Much like the huge stone wall we had passed through to escape, at the end of the wide path was the second one. A large gatehouse faced the road, a set of closed golden gates set into the front with four soldiers standing sentry either side, black helmets polished to a shine.

Riots of dark flowers grew tall in thick patches along the entire length of the wall, continuing round the curve and out of sight. At the furthest point, the forest butted against the stone, branches brushing against its sides both within and outside the barrier.The wall built straight through them.

Or they had disregarded the defences and started their own invasion.

More black-helmeted guards bobbed along as they patrolled a walkway atop the fortress dotted with huge braziers of fire marking every tower, flames reaching high like an offering to the gods.

It was what was encircled within that had my mouth hanging open.

Tall spires of dark grey stone reached into the clouds, their tops streaked with swathes of twisted gold. The two materials forged into one under the gleam of the wards flickering in the wakening dawn. Only the top of towers were visible over the wall.Everything else was hidden from view.

A palace. That’s what Kaius had called it. A palace, not a castle.

My expectations of the dungeon I was headed to rose exponentially.

Unlike me, my large guide hadn’t stopped to admire the view and was already a good way ahead. Groaning, I forced myself to catch up, breath clouding into vapour with every exhale while my feet turned painfully numb from the bitterly cold floor.

Each step rattled the jewellery around my hands and feet, and I hugged myself tighter in an attempt to stop the chattering of my teeth. Other than the slight rustle of his long cloak, Marcellus barely made a sound as he moved along the path despite the vast number of weapons attached to him.

“What is this place?” I asked in awe, eyes drinking in every detail they could despite my exhaustion. I wasn’t reallyexpecting an answer as he obviously wasn’t happy with the orders he was following.

Catching up, I followed beside him, my body tired yet I could feel magic buzzing under my skin, flowing through me in a way I had never experienced. It swirled within me, humming as I drew in breaths of air so cold it was almost painful.

Though my magic may be rejoicing, the dull throb in my heart was still there, and I tried again to relieve it, rubbing small circles over the ache. Marcellus glanced down at my movement from under his hood, a frown still stamped over his face. Arching a brow in question, I tried to deny the way my skin heated under his glare; I didn’t need another angry man to contend with.

The hood of his cloak threw shadows, across a face I didn’t want to take my eyes from.

The dark honey tone of his skin was somewhat at odds with the icy blue eyes that were fringed in dark lashes. His broad jaw was covered in a dusting of black stubble interrupted by the four pink, jagged scars that ran down his face and disappeared down his neck. I could only guess his hair was the same colour.

His lips were a soft rose colour, wide and plump carved into rugged features that made him look as though he had been chiselled from stone. It suited his massive frame well.

Bit of a waste keeping your hood up when you have a face like that.

He only glared harder the longer I looked at him, eyes narrowing before looking ahead along the road. I turned forward, too, realising how far I still had to walk, the road looping to make it longer than necessary.

If I pretended to pass out, would he carry me the rest of the way?

I thought better of it, after a cautionary glance at his angry face told me he’d likely leave me on the floor.

“Can’t we just, you know, cut across?” I gestured to the much quicker way we could take if we simply walked over the grass instead of following the winding road of the cold cobbles. Another glare put a stop to that idea, and I resigned myself to the trek.

I tried again. “What’s going to happen once we get in there?” Usually, I wasn’t one for pestering large, angry people but any information I could get would be a bonus and asking questions stopped me from focussing on the pain shooting up my legs with each step.

“Will I be thrown in a dungeon and chained up?”

Nothing.

Every step closer to the palace revealed another inch of impossibly beautiful stone walls, each enormous block glittering in the sun’s rays, and I wondered what horror its beauty masked within.

Just because it’s pretty doesn’t mean it isn’t full of monsters.

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