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

Soryn stopped short when he realized Sihtaar lay nearby in its case. Magic chased over it as he looked at it. How had it gotten there? He had seen Ashiyn leave it behind. The sight of the blade filled him with fear. The being within it craved the life and power of celestials. Many had been sacrificed to lock the creature within the blade. He could hear them whispering to him, the souls trapped there. Telling him to destroy Ashiyn and hide Sihtaar.

Soryn scowled and glared at the blade, then stormed to the doorway instead. No. He would not destroy Ashiyn. He would save Ashiyn and the world. “Only your death will save the world,” Rurik’s words taunted him from his thoughts. He shuddered and opened the door.

As he had suspected, the Nthir lurked just outside. “Tell the servants to get us some food,” he told the Nthir. He was not sure it would work. It had been a long time since the Nthir had been one coherent being, but collectively they had seemed to remember Soryn. They circled around on the ceiling, hissing threats for a moment, before one of them broke away and darted off toward the servants’ quarters.

Soryn closed the door and turned back to the bed only to stare right into Ashiyn’s narrowed golden eyes. Soryn swallowed, uncertain. “I told them to get us some food. I thought you might be hungry.”

“I am hungry,” Ashiyn growled then used his magic to yank Soryn back to the bed.

Soryn could not resist. He was lost in Ashiyn devouring him when the servants came in to leave their food. Ashiyn ignored them, doubling his efforts when he realized he had lost Soryn’s attention. Soryn barely saw the disturbed looks from the servants before he was lost to it again. Once they were gone, he gasped, dragging his nails down Ashiyn’s back. “You’re insatiable.”

Ashiyn laughed as they finished, then let go of Soryn and untangled their bodies. He sat up and grabbed the tray of food, downing half the drink the servants had left before beginning to eat.

Soryn, ravenous now, joined him in eating. Once the food was gone, he lay there eyeing Ashiyn’s bare body. He wanted nothing more than to lie there and let Ashiyn take him until neither of them could move again.

Ashiyn caught him looking and smirked before stretching slowly, displaying himself before he said, “Get up and draw us a bath. You’re still my servant.”

Soryn blushed and scooted out of the bed, scrambling to the washroom to obey. The bath ended similarly. They could not get enough of each other. It was a deep craving that made everything feel so much better.

The cacophony of knocks on the outer door interrupted them this time. “Master! Master!”

Ashiyn growled, instantly the monster again, as he surged from the bath and stormed, dripping water, to his door. “What is it, fool?”

The servant cowered and bowed to the floor as Soryn scrambled out to watch, a towel around his waist at least.

“It’s Marista, Master,” the servant gasped through tears flowing down their face.

“Marista?” Ashiyn looked confused for a moment. “Is that my woman?”

Soryn stared at Ashiyn. “You don’t even ask their names anymore?” he blurted out, instantly regretting it when Ashiyn glared at him. He lowered his gaze to the floor. Their moment had ended. Ashiyn was the monstrous King once more and Soryn was merely his servant. It stung, but Soryn understood. Ashiyn would not be seen as weak to anyone.

“Yes, Master, that one. You must come, please,” the servant pleaded then rose and ran down the hall.

Ashiyn snarled and threw his hand out to gather his clothes and armor with his magic. It floated through the air and wrapped around Ashiyn’s body. Once dressed, he drew Sihtaar to the scabbard on his back.

Soryn dried off, then gave Ashiyn a sheepish look. “My clothes did not survive the night, my King.”

“Go and get different ones,” Ashiyn said, dismissing him, before stalking down the hall after the servant.

Soryn hesitated. He wanted to know what was going on. But part of him knew he would not like whatever it was. So he pulled the towel around his waist and fled down the hall to his chambers, hoping none of the few remaining servants saw him.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Ashiyn had a dozen servants who had not defied him in addition to Soryn and Marista. All but Soryn stood on the top of the castle staring like brainless sheep. Marista stood on the very edge of the castle, up on the wall, the wind from the ocean below whipping her sheer white clothes around her body. She stood with arms outstretched, on her tiptoes, staring down at the lava, rocks, and water below.

“Woman, what are you doing?” Ashiyn demanded as he stormed through the clustered servants. He reached to grab her, but she danced out of his way, her eyes wild, as she brought a dagger up to her own neck. “Marista, that is your name, yes? Come down from there. Let us talk.”

“There is nothing to talk about, Master,” Marista said, her voice cold and strange. Ashiyn couldn’t remember ever hearing her speak. “It is too late.”

“What are you babbling about, woman?” Ashiyn growled as he stepped closer again. He saw Soryn join the other servants out of the corner of his eye.

“I will serve you no longer, monster,” Marista whispered, her hand going to her belly. “I will not bear your child.”

“No!” Ashiyn tried to grab her with his magic, but he was too slow. She tore the dagger down her front, spilling blood and gore over the stone castle. Then she dropped the dagger and threw out her arms as she let herself fall over the side. Ashiyn ran to the edge but she fell so quickly, she was out of the reach of his magic.