Wicked Ties (The Tether Trilogy Book 2)

Inside the visitor’s hut, Hassha stands over one of the Cold Tethered children with her heart beating slowly. Her eyes hold a subtle blue glow as she studies the man with hair like a lion’s mane and dry, brown skin. She’s scanned him several times, had him treated to remove the dark energy within his soul, but none of it is working.

Now, it’s late, and she’s made her presence unknown, cloaked in a shield of invisibility. While she watches them in their slumber, they can’t see or hear her, though they probably could sense her presence if they were awake, feel as if someone were watching. But they aren’t, and she’s made sure of it with the sleeping spell she’s put them under.

Warren’s partner, Danica, rests next to him, one arm draped over his waist, her face buried into his body. She has Kessel blood in her that’s pure and strong. A lovely couple, Hassha thinks, and as badly as she wants to smile, she can’t help sensing something is so very wrong with them. Or perhaps it’s just him. It’s not just that the energy of Decius remains in Warren’s soul, but something much heavier is thriving in his mind—something that feels equally as powerful as she is…and terrifyingly familiar.

The only option is to get into his head, dive deeper, and see what’s really keeping his virtuous soul at bay.

Something crackles outside the hut and Hassha peers back. Through the window she spots a glow of lavender. The hairs rise on her bronze arms, like static is in the air, and a familiar warmth sinks into her chest, settling around her rib cage. She’s only ever felt this with one person of Vakeeli—this comfort that can’t be denied. This warmth brings a trust that is rooted so deeply inside her, it’s impenetrable.

A smile graces her lips as the heat of a body arrives next to hers. This person’s energy is potent and charged, fed off land, water, and Vakeeli air. She smells of ocean, grass, and golden blooms. She smells of love.

“Korah.” Hassha utters the name in a gentle voice, her heart beating a notch faster. She doesn’t move her head, too afraid of how she’ll react when seeing her sister again after so many centuries. They’ve spoken only through thoughts and messages for so long. In the cozy confines of this hut, she’ll cry if she looks too soon.

“What is it? Afraid I’m even more beautiful than the last time you saw me?” Korah’s laughter is infectious and Hassha finally turns her head to digest an eye-full of her sister.

There is no denying that Korah is beautiful. In fact, Korah has always been the prettiest one of all. The candlelight bounces off her dark skin and reflects off her purple eyes as if they’re a mirror. Her hair is collected into one large ponytail, bushy and beautifully unkempt, giving off that edge only she can bring. She dons her signature colors—green, brown, and beige. Hassha’s vision blurs and all the colors as well as the silver of her sister’s irises merge into one.

“Aw, sister.” Korah turns fully to face her, drawing her in for a hug. She’s missed her just as much, and her heart comes alive as they hold each other chest to chest. “I’ve missed you,” Hassha whispers.

“I’ve missed you too.” Korah leans back, gripping the tops of Hassha’s shoulders. She can’t help noticing her sister is wearing armor, which is odd considering it’s so late at night and she’s in protected land. She should be dressed comfortably, for peace, not like this.

“What’s troubling you?” Korah asks.

“Oh, many things, sister.” Hassha takes a minor step back, inhaling before exhaling.

“Not my nieces, eh? They’re okay?”

“Yes, they’re fine. They’re quite rebellious, but so full of life.” Hassha pauses. “They’d love to see you.”

“Perhaps another time, when things are a bit clearer.” Korah takes a step away too. She loves the twins, but she can’t see them. She saw them once, through sequences Hassha sent her mentally, and longed to hold them. To be there. But she felt such guilt for leaving. How could she return when she’d abandoned Hassha while she was pregnant with the girls? She searches for that answer in Hassha’s eyes, but as always, Hassha reveals nothing. Either Hassha doesn’t see it the way she does, or she’s pretending that it doesn’t bother her.

“Tell me what’s on your mind,” Korah encourages.

“It’s him.” Hassha gestures to Warren. “He’s a product of the Tether. A cold tethered baby.”

“Is he?”

“Yes. He’s one of the twins. Willow’s twin.”

Korah swallows. “Ah. I see.”

“I agreed to bring him here in hopes that I could rid him of the dark energy inside him, but I’ve tried everything, Korah. I’ve exhausted all my methods. Decius still lingers inside him, and I feel he won’t let go unless we kill him. But in order to kill him, we’ll have to…” Hassha trails off, staring vacantly.

“Well, we can’t do that.” Korah folds her arms, lowers her gaze. “How do you feel about Willow and Caspian? Have you seen them recently?”

“I have seen them, yes.” Hassha nods. “They contacted me about Warren and his mate.” Hassha surveys Korah. “Have you heard what I’ve heard recently?”

“About The Council trying to send that boy to Inferno Isle? Of course, I’ve heard. Who do you think it was that gave them warning not to send the sad sap off?”

“Yes. I told Caspian to let it go as well, but he knows I’m hiding something. He’s lost trust in me, which is the last thing I wanted. Are you not worried?”

“We made that place impossible to survive,” Korah says, though that doesn’t answer the question. “He and anyone with him will die if they ever set foot on that island.”

“What did you say to The Council?” asks Hassha.

“I told them to cease their plans or I would slice of their heads and plant them on a stake.” Korah raises her chin, smirking. “They know better than to test me.”

Hassha’s head shakes slowly, her gaze turning the other way. “We cannot be so confident, sister. This new generation of The Council is bold. And strong. Something tells me Selah has been speaking to them somehow. Though she’s at rest, it doesn’t mean she can’t still speak. If a mind is dark enough or suffering…she can get there.”

Annoyance wraps around Korah. “That is true.”

“Willow and Caspian, they’re not like the previous Cold Tethered children,” Hassha continues. “Their bond is one of the most powerful bonds I’ve ever encountered in my life. I can feel their energy, even now. I know you felt it too when they came to see you.”

“Yes, I felt it. Still do.” Korah’s head hangs, her focus on Warren now.

“I believe someone else is speaking to Warren in his dreams. I just hope it’s not who we think it is.” Hassha’s belly clenches as she focuses on Warren again. It’s been so long since she’s felt what she does right now. Fear.

Korah takes Hassha’s hand and gives it a squeeze. “Shall we go in together?”

She peers up at Korah. “Yes. That would be good.”

“Very well.”

Hassha closes her eyes and Korah does the same, and as they clasp each other’s hand, Hassha uses her other to touch Warren’s forehead. The pull is instant, as if his body has been awaiting her touch. She sucks in a sharp breath as Warren shifts in his sleep with a slight moan, and before she knows it, she’s inside, seeing what he sees. Breathing his air. Drowning in his stress.

She looks down at the fractured black ground beneath her feet, the gaps filled with fiery orange lava, then up, at the razor-sharp mountains gushing with even more of it.

The land is empty, no trees, grass, or signs of life, however when she looks up, the sky is full of creatures—dark creatures with massive wings, visible ribs, and slimy gray skin. They fly in a circle, hovering above something in the distance. Hassha looks left, and Korah is with her, radiating with soft purple light.

When Hassha moves, Korah does too. They walk until they approach a crater in the ground, a crater so deep it seems a bomb has dropped on it to open it up. But there are no bombs here. Only energy. Bad, bad energy.

Hassha hitches a breath when she spots the gold coffin planted at the bottom of the crater, however it’s not as she and Korah left it. The coffin is wide open and the body that’s supposed to be inside it is gone.

A screeching noise fills the air, and Hassha peers up as the dark-winged creatures come flying toward them, but instead of hitting or landing on them, they swoop right past, blocking their line of sight. They zip by in large whooshes and flaps…and then they’re gone.

The land is still.

The air is thick and suffocating.

A figure wrapped in fire appears from a distance. It walks toward them, closer, closer, and Hassha’s heart beats like a caged bird when the figure stops, the flames die, and it transforms into a woman. The woman is completely naked, with skin as white as snow and a thin frame. She grins as Korah grips Hassha’s hand tighter, but just as quickly as the woman appears, she vanishes.

Hassha and Korah spin around, searching for her. When they turn again, an invisible force drops them to their knees, and a searing hot hand lands on both their shoulders, burning their skin.

Before them is the woman in fire, a sly grin covering half of her face, and her eyes lit into bold red flames. Her red hair floats in the air and she uses her flamed fingers to tip their chins, so their eyes are only on hers.

They can’t move from her grasp.

Can’t resist.

Can’t run.

Here, she has full control and based off her wicked smirk, she knows it.

“Hello, sisters,” she says.

Hassha gasps, and the fire and lava drifts away. Their surroundings melt, returning them to the presence of the hut.

Hassha pulls her hand away from Warren’s head, staring at him in utter disbelief as her back slams into the nearest wall. She turns her eyes to Korah whose eyes are cloudy and damp. Then Hassha hisses when she feels a broiling heat on her shoulder.

Korah rushes toward her sister, helping her take off the gold chest plate, and when Hassha’s removes her shirt, she finds an imprint of a hand. It has claimed her skin, branded her. It’s a warning that’s as clear as ever.

“Selah’s back,” a deep voice says, and the Regal sisters hitch a breath when they look up to find Warren now standing. But this isn’t the kind, timid kid from hours ago. His eyes are fiery red, just like Selah’s…and he now has talons so dark and sharp, they could slice through steel. A crackling noise fills the air, like the sound of bones crunching and breaking, and greasy black wings rip through his shirt and sprout from his back—wings twice as large as his body. “Regal Selah is back. And she’s going to kill you all.”