Page 13 of Mortal Desires

My lip curved, a silly reaction far too human for my liking.

I sighed and rose from the throne. My hooves thumped onto the marble floor making her flinch. “Welcome to the underworld,” I dragged on, expecting a reaction.

Her head turned from one side to the other, trying to find proof of my words.

“There’s no way out,” I whispered in my most sinister voice.

Pilar narrowed her eyes. “I’m not dead. I can’t be here.”

She spoke softly. I could hear the doubt creeping into her voice. How can one ever know they are truly dead? The veil between realms was thin and Pilar Morales walked on that thin line every day of her miserable existence.

“Yet you followed a ghost down the stairs to the underworld.” I dipped my chin.

Her mouth flattened. “Who are you?”

“I’m your warden.” It was my first joke in centuries.

The witch wasn’t a good audience.

“You can’t keep me here. I’m not dead!” she bellowed, full of rage.

I surged close to her. In the blink of an eye, we stood inches apart and a gasp tore from her mouth while she craned her neck to stare right into my black eyes.

“I can fix that,” I told her in a low voice.

To my surprise, she didn’t back down, never looking away from me. I wanted her to fold, to beg, but she proved herself stronger than I could ever imagine.

Never wavering, I kept my eyes on her as I said, “Take her.”

My guards appeared from thin air, she jumped when their cold hands touched her and fought when they tried to drag her away from me.

“Tell me who you are!”

She was small, fragile, and mortal. Her little body shook in rebellion, those tears again streaming down her face. I stood there and let them take her, watching attentively as her eyes never left me, her throat hoarse after begging for answers.

I planned this day for a long time but unlike everything I’d done in the past, it didn’t turn out quite as sweet as I wanted it to be.

My eyes only left him when I couldn’t take it anymore. He easily stood seven feet tall when up on his hooves, more counting the horns. His presence brought tears to my eyes; his voice sent shivers down my spine. Every single thing he did caused a visceral reaction in me. I couldn’t control it.

The things he ordered around were even more terrifying than their master. At least he had a body I could see. Whatever held me back was made of dense mist. I felt the pressure of their hands, but I couldn’t see their bodies. They took me away, my feet dragging over the cold stone.

Quiet Pilar was long gone. If he thought someone like me could be contained, he was severely mistaken. In my veins, Morales' blood ran free. I’d never betray my coven. I’d never leave my sisters.

My screams echoed in the empty corridors and through my own skull. I tried to make sense of where the mist creatures led me, but the rooms disappeared as soon as we left them.

I’d see a door, sometimes even a full room but before I could make sense of it, it dissolved right in front of my own eyes. I caught sight of servants with their heads bowed, avoiding my chaos, but they left quickly too.

It wasn’t real, I argued with myself. It couldn’t be real.

A palace of moving rooms, a nightmare without a beginning or end.

For beings only made of mist, the hands dragging me were strong and capable. They never wavered because of my screams going so far as to throw me over a shoulder as they took me upstairs. My eyes searched frantically for clues to my location, but the rooms changed even as I stared.

If I couldn’t see where I was going, I couldn’t get back out.

Fear grabbed me by the throat, and I cried out just as they dropped me into a room. I fell, and before I could stand up again, they locked me inside.

Rushing on my knees, I slammed the door with my fist. “Let me out!”

---