Page 18 of Crown of Light and Ashes
"I know you are," I reply softly. "That's rather the point. But I'm afraid begging won't save him. Nothing will."
I release the pressure on Aslan's throat just enough to let him gasp for air. I want him conscious for what comes next.
"You know, a lesser villain would simply strangle you and be done with it," I tell him conversationally. "But where's the artistry in that? The drama? The memorable quality that will haunt my bride's nightmares for years to come?"
I circle him slowly, my shadows holding him suspended and spread-eagled in midair. "I could crush your bones one by one. Start with the fingers, work my way in. I've done that before—it takes hours if you're careful. Or I could flay the skin from your body, stripby strip." I tap my chin thoughtfully. "But again, time-consuming, and I do have a wedding to attend."
"You're insane," Aslan manages to gasp.
"No, I'm efficient," I correct. "And creative. Two qualities that are sadly underappreciated."
I glance at Nesilhan, who has gone very still, her golden eyes huge with terror. She's beautiful even now—especially now—with fear making her skin luminous and her chest heaving with each panicked breath.
"I want you to watch this very carefully, bride-to-be," I tell her. "Consider it your first lesson in what happens to those who take what's mine."
I return my attention to Aslan, extending my hand toward him. My shadows respond, some holding him in place while others begin to gather around his head, wrapping and unwrapping in hypnotic patterns.
"Did you know," I say, keeping my voice light and instructional, "that shadows can move through any space? No matter how small or tightly sealed? It's one of their more useful qualities."
The shadows begin to curl around Aslan's face, tendrils seeking entrance through his nose, his mouth, his ears. He tries to turn away, to hold his breath, but it's futile. The darkness is insistent, pressing forward.
"They can fill a man's lungs, his stomach, his veins," I continue. "They can replace the very fluids that keep him alive, one drop at a time."
Aslan begins to convulse as my shadows force their way inside him. I allow Nesilhan to hear his choked cries, to see the moment panic overtakes him completely.
"Stop! Please stop!" she screams, struggling against her bonds. "I love him!"
The words feed the cold rage that's been building since Idiscovered her absence. She loves him. This insignificant Light Court soldier. This nothing, this no one.
"You love him," I repeat, my voice dangerously soft. "How unfortunate for both of you."
I clench my fist suddenly, and the shadows inside Aslan solidify. The power drains me more than I'd admit—manipulating shadows within a living body requires immense concentration and energy—but the display of dominance before Nesilhan is worth the cost. His body jerks, his back arching impossibly as darkness bursts from within him—erupting from his eyes, his mouth, tearing through his skin in jagged patterns. Blood and shadow mingle in a grotesque display as his body is literally torn apart from the inside, the darkness that filled him forcing its way out in an explosive release.
The sound Nesilhan makes isn't human. It's the wail of something breaking beyond repair.
What remains of Aslan falls to the forest floor in a ruined heap, scraps of flesh and bone held together by tatters of clothing. My shadows retreat, their hunger temporarily sated, coiling around me once more.
I turn to Nesilhan, whose screams have faded to shocked, hitching breaths. Tears stream down her face, her eyes fixed on the remains of her lover.
"That," I say calmly, "is what happens when someone touches what belongs to me."
I approach her slowly, my shadows still binding her in place. When I reach her, I grasp her chin, forcing her to look at me instead of Aslan's remains. My gaze catches on the pendant again. “A gift from your now-dead lover?” I sneer, before ripping it from her neck. A strangled cry leaves her perfect lips. The pendant sails to the ground, where I crush it easily under my boot.
"Did you think I wouldn't find out?" I ask softly. "Did you thinkyou could betray me on our wedding day and there would be no consequences? Oh, my naive little bride. You have so much to learn."
With deliberate slowness, I lean forward and lick a spatter of Aslan's blood from her cheek, savoring both the metallic taste and her shudder of revulsion.
"Mmm," I murmur against her skin. "I'll remember him every time I taste you."
I let my gaze drift deliberately to the bloody remains scattered across the forest floor, then back to her horrified face. "In fact, I think I'll have his bones cleaned and polished. They'll make an excellent bed frame for our wedding chamber." Her sharp intake of breath feeds the dark satisfaction curling in my chest. "Yes, I can see it now—every night when I worship your body, when I fuck you until you scream my name instead of his, you'll be lying on what's left of your precious Aslan. How poetic."
I release her chin and step back, surveying her disheveled state—tunic still unfastened, hair wild from her struggle, traces of her lover still evident on her skin. "Fix your clothing," I command. "I won't parade you through the Shadow Court looking like you've just been rutting in the forest. Though," I add with a cruel smile, "that's exactly what you were doing, isn't it?"
She doesn't move, still frozen in shock and grief.
With a sigh, I gesture, and my shadows adjust her tunic, straightening her clothing and smoothing her hair with an unsettling gentleness that mimics care.
"Much better," I approve. "Now, shall we return to the palace? We have a wedding to attend, after all. And I find I'm looking forward to it even more now." I lean in, my lips nearly brushing her ear. "Especially the part where I claim what he just had."
