Page 1 of The Dragon's Gambit
Prologue
Abaas slammed his fist into the obsidian wall of his lair. Cracks raced outward from the impact, bright with orange light, branching in a jagged spiral before cooling and sealing over with a hiss. The heat in the chamber spiked, every breatha sear. He paced the perimeter, claws scraping the walls as he passed them by. He raked his nails down his own forearm, leaving red tracks to mingle with older, uglier wounds. The last battle had left its mark; fairy prince magic had chewed through his flesh, leaving puckered burn scars that internally never quite healed.
His mouth stretched into a snarl, fangs extending as his demon eyes flashed, then bled back to the wolf’s gold.Two times. Two times I’ve lost her. Two times!
He bared his teeth and swept the shelf with one hand, sending trophies scattering. The fairy wing caught fire midair, vanishing into a gust of ashes. A chain that once held a nymph he kept for pleasure clanked on the floor.
“Twice I was within reach. Twice. And still—” He flexed his hands, nails tearing new crescents into his palms.
That damn mongrel that was her mate didn’t even realize his own strength. That was not an alpha wolf he fought against before. It was the fairy prince.
“No matter … they always say the third time’s the charm.”
He didn’t need sleep. He barely needed to breathe, and when he did, the air burned all the way down. Instead, Abaas was being consumed by his own darkness. It was getting worse, and he was no longer himself. Once he had his princess, he would go back to normal. He was sure of it. He’d been planning for so long, but they’d moved his princess to Elysia. No matter. She would eventually come outside the barrier, and when she did, he would find her. But he needed a plan.
He snatched up a burned map, spreading it flat on the altar. Half of Elysia was gone, the paper blackened and curled from the last time he’d tried to burn a shortcut into the fairy kingdom. He’d tried to use magic to break through the barrier, but it didn’t work. With every failure, he felt the demon in him swell, eager to take the wheel.
“I’m going to have her. She is going to be mine. It just wasn’t the right time. I’m patient. I’m making a plan. She’s mine. My princessssss,” he murmured as he ran his fingers over Elysia on the map.
“Mine,” he whispered, and the word echoed off the walls of his room. “She’s pure. Untainted. The perfect key. My perfect mate.”
He rolled his shoulders, letting the wolf and the demon fight in his bones. “This time, I won’t fail,” he promised, and his eyes flickered between gold and red, gold and red, until he couldn’t tell which side of himself was speaking.
He would have his princess, and the hunt was thrilling. He felt himself getting excited as he thought about her. How he would hold her down by the throat and fill her with his seed over and over.
“Guardians,” he growled, snapping his mind from his delusions. Those useless fairies had a guardian for every generation. He’d underestimated them. He would not make that mistake again. This time, he would command an army worthy of the hunt. An army strong enough to obliterate every guardian or fairy prince they met up with. But the army he required was not his to command. No matter how many thralls or howling abominations Abaas had corralled, they were nothing compared to the legions that slumbered beneath the obsidian spires of the demon realm. Battalions that were not at the command of a half-demon like himself. However, his half-brother, Leoric, Lord of the Twelve Half Realms, did have a strong legion under his control.
The very thought made Abaas’ stomach twist with hate and bitter envy. Leoric, purebred, untouchable, and cruel, who’d spent Abaas’ entire childhood reminding him of the dirt in his blood. Leoric, who’d once flayed him for daring to look him in the eyes. Leoric, who would rather see Abaas dead and feasted upon than cede a single demon to his command. It was suicide.Pure madness. But then, perhaps madness was all that remained of him. The closer he got to the fairy princess, the louder the voices in his skull became. Voices that were not his but were commanding and taking control. The only clarity he had was the vision of the new fairy princess, bound and writhing, her body his to claim.
And so, madness was a comfort. He embraced it, let it yank him across the searing wilds, through the obsidian canyons and sulfuric storms that tore at his flesh. His feet moved on their own through the demonic realm and headed right for Leoric’s domain. He paused just outside the gates, remembering the last time he’d crossed that threshold, he was only a child. He’d wanted to see his brother. He was his blood, so surely he would accept him.
Abaas chuckled to himself as he stepped across the threshold. What a fool he was. His brother had him beaten, mauled, and tossed out like garbage. But only Leoric himself could touch him. No other demon would do anything that might provoke his father, Mephisto. Little did they know that his father didn’t care about him either.
Lesser demons skittered away at his approach, red-eyed, needle-toothed things in half-formed bodies. Some flung themselves flat to the ground, others vanished into cracks in the stone. The corridor dumped him into a vast cavern, the ceiling lost in shadows, and this was where he came face to face with his brother.
Leoric saw him and smiled. It was a smile that belonged on a razor. “Abaas,” he called, drawing out the word like it was the start of a curse. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Every creature knew when they were the prey and not the predator. In Abaas’ madness, he didn’t have this self-preservation instinct.
“You heard about my plan to take a fairy princess. I nearly had one—twice.”
Leoric curled up his lips in disgust. “Yes, I have heard about that. You purposely want to claim a … fairy.”
“Not just any fairy, but the princess. The heir of the fairies. Don’t you see? With her blood, we would have entry into Elysia. That’s why I’m here. To make a deal with you. I want your best army to help me fight to get my princess. Once I have entry to Elysia, I’ll share it with you, and—”
Leoric laughed. It was a rich, ugly sound, echoing off the cavern walls. “You’ve always been an optimist. Why would I share when I can just take?”
“Because you can’t get in on your own,” Abaas said, voice flat. “But with my fairy mate, I’ll gain entry.”
Leoric studied him, the silence thick as tar. Around them, the demon soldiers shifted, sniffing the idea, considering. “You come back with the princess or you don’t come back at all … you get my meaning?”
“Fight to the death?”
“Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
“Good. Now get your filthy, half-blood stench out of here. When the time comes, you’ll have my strongest.”
