The Darkest Sword Samantha Kroese (easy books to read in english .TXT) 📖

like distant thunder. Far away, weak. Like claws dragged against stone, irritating. Ashiyn bit back a growl. Rhadamanthus knew Ashiyn hated being interrupted during sex. Defiant, Ashiyn pushed thoughts of the dark creature away and focused on the soft skin against his. He doubled his efforts until the woman’s pleased noises drowned out even the memory of the call of his Master. He hated being interrupted.

“Ashiyn!”

Anger laced the voice this time, and with it pain that could not be ignored flooded through his head. He felt as though his mind would explode. The pressure made him jerk back from his companion and clutch at his eyes as if to hold them in place. He hated pain even more. The pressure made his vision blur. He growled and untangled himself from the woman and the silken covers of his bed. He peeled them away from his body then tossed them back in her direction as he rose.

He didn’t bother to dress. The air was unpleasantly warm as it always was in his castle. After thousands of years, one would think he would be used to the heat. Lava flowed underneath the castle and the heat from it rose upward through the obsidian stone. Another tiny detail he hadn’t bothered to clarify in his plans for his perfect world. Using his Master’s castle for his own had seemed practical at the time. As he stormed across the hot stone floor, he almost regretted not pausing long enough to get something to cover his bare feet.

“Ashiyn!”

I’m coming! He didn’t know if his Master could read his thoughts, but he put as much force behind that one as he could. He snarled and knocked over a small table as he passed it. The beautiful sculpture some servant had thought would please him toppled to the floor in his wake and shattered. The destruction made him feel just a little better. He couldn’t take it out on his Master. Yet. One day he would find a way.

It’s only been three millennia, Sihtaar, Ashiyn’s dark sword, quipped in Ashiyn’s mind. Never mind the sword had promised so long ago to help Ashiyn defeat his Master. Unfortunately, Rhadamanthus was now in a state of undeath that was hard to unravel. It made his destruction more difficult. Ashiyn couldn’t just kill him; the blasted lich would just revive, and Ashiyn wasn’t sure how Rhadamanthus was doing it.

The startled noise from the bed made Ashiyn pause at the doorway to look back at the woman. She hid her beautiful face behind one of the sheets, except for her dark eyes that were large with alarm. Her hands with their long, manicured nails clutched at the sheet that shook in her grip. Fear hadn’t been part of his bargain with the dark powers, but he’d come to enjoy provoking it in others. He watched her for a moment longer. His hands twitched and ached with the desire for violence. What was one more to join the thousands before her? And perhaps her blood would appease the demanding monster in the next room.

No. It took too much effort to find a woman who wasn’t too terrified to please him in bed. Ashiyn had power, money, charm, and he was handsome. Three thousand years of bloodshed and a reputation for being a brutal monster were hard to overcome, even so. Hard to find good help when one had a reputation for killing servants in a displeased rage. He frowned at her and turned away.

The door between his sleeping chambers and the sitting room was made from heavy embossed marble, but it was designed to push open at the lightest touch. With a thought, he used his magic to slam it shut behind him, and he fancied he could hear her make yet another startled noise. Good. He didn’t want her to get too comfortable. He hated when they fell in love with him. They started thinking they could change him.

He didn’t want to change. He just wanted to be free of this annoyance. The darkness had served its purpose. He had all that he wanted, except for his freedom. He crossed the large, lavishly decorated sitting room and somehow managed not to knock over anything more in anger on the way to confront the creature.

The double doors in the middle of the room in front of Ashiyn could be seen only by him. They were not truly a part of his castle’s design, but a portal spell created by the dark thing he served. Rhadamanthus had withered to the point he was more will and magical energy than a physical form, so he existed half-way between mortal existence and whatever death might be.

Ashiyn threw the doors open and strode boldly down the dark tunnel. It wouldn’t be the first time his lack of fear had gotten him in trouble with this creature. Red candles lit the path between the doorway and the large altar in the middle of the room. Dark runes of forgotten ancient magic marred the surface of the beautiful black marble. So did dried blood. In the center of the altar sat a crystal pillar. Within the crystal, blood-red angry clouds swirled, obscuring the dark figure within.

Ashiyn stalked to the altar and slammed his hands palm-down on either side of the crystal pillar. He glared into it at the shadow figure. “What do you want? You know I hate being interrupted.”

“Such bold insolence!” The voice responded. His Master sounded bemused today, but the threat laced the deep voice. “Shall I waste my time reminding you of your place?”

Ashiyn gritted his teeth as memories of a thousand deaths at the hand of the brutal creature replayed though his mind. Sometimes the punishment was worth the defiance. Today it was not. He forced a more respectful tone. “You have need of me, Master?” He didn’t really have to ask. It was always the same. The price