Soul Forge (Book One of the Soul Forge series)

The weather turned unexpectedly bitter the further north the group flew, proving too much even for their warmer attire. Elda huddled inside her new armour, Sypher’s dark cloak wrapped tightly around her shoulders. Julian sat behind her with his collar flicked up in a poor attempt to protect his neck from the wind, his hood not quite heavy enough to withstand the gale.

Sypher flew beside them, his full black armour in place and his face obscured by shadows. His wings continued to beat in a steady rhythm, undisturbed by the chill. Gira hunched against the icy wind, his massive form curled in on itself to retain whatever heat he could.

The new connection between Elda and Sypher echoed back to her emptily, almost like he was deliberately blocking it. He’d been acting strange since she’d donned her new red armour, only speaking to her when he had to and avoiding eye contact as much as he could. She’d expected him to be impressed, but disappointment sat bitterly on her tongue when she glanced over yet again to find his head turned firmly away from her.

You could try talking to him, Irileth nudged casually, her voice as clear as a bell in Elda’s mind. You can push past his block if you try. The elf frowned, staying silent. Pushing past the block felt like an invasion of his privacy and the last thing she wanted was to upset him further.

She spent the day running over everything she’d said since waking up that morning, trying to pinpoint exactly what she could have done to make him go back to avoiding her like he had when they first met. When nothing jumped out at her she scowled and started again, combing back through every minute of interaction with him.

When they eventually started to descend night had fallen, the temperature had dropped even further and the mountains of Cenet loomed up against the inky sky. The city sat at their base, the streets illuminated with enchanted moonstone lamps. Every building was ornate and pearly white, even the less expensive dwellings gilded in gold. The whole of Cenet was a display of opulence so grand it made Elda’s eyes bug wide.

Syd hit the ground outside the gates with a grunt, trotting in a circle to get the blood flowing back through her legs before she let her riders dismount. Gira slipped off of Sypher’s back and landed in a crouch, wincing when his frozen knees were forced to take the impact. The Soul Forge landed lightly beside him, tucking his wings in and taking down his hood. Elda blinked, doing a double take when she realised he was actually looking at her.

“Prince Falmyr will be expecting us to behave like married royals. I may need your help with the etiquette,” he admitted, his face carefully blank.

“Of course,” she agreed. “Julian, can you and Gira find somewhere to settle in with Syd for the night? The Prince’s father has strict rules around visitors. Only royals can stay in his palace overnight.”

“Sure we can,” Julian grinned. “There’s an excellent little tavern near the lake. Come on, Shifter. Let’s get you some alcohol to warm your blood.” He slapped Gira heartily on the back.

“Lead the way,” the Keeper obliged, following the Vampire through the gates and into the city after a quiet introduction with the guards, leaving Elda and Sypher alone. He set off after them without a word, greeting the guards at the gate with a nod once they were inside.

“Who goes there?” the soldier asked, straightening his back, one hand straying to the sword at his hip. Elda took her hood down and lifted her chin, flashing the guard a demure smile.

“Princess Elda Gild and Prince Sypher Gild of Eden, sir,” she replied. “We apologise for our quiet arrival. Our visit was quite unexpected. Are you able to get word of our presence to Prince Falmyr so he isn’t startled when we knock on his door?”

“Of course, Your Grace. Right away.” The guards bowed low, then one left to send word, the other beckoning them inside the gates. “Were there more travellers on the road, my lady?”

“Not that we saw.”

“Then I shall close the gates. They reopen at sunrise if you need to be on your way.” She nodded her thanks and began walking, Sypher falling into step beside her. Staying true to his behaviour throughout the day, he remained stoic, his eyes fixed firmly on the path they walked. Elda couldn’t find the words to break the silence so she scowled and led the way to the palace.

By the time they reached the bridge crossing the huge lake in the centre of the city, the message had reached the palace and the ornate gates were wide open to greet them, the palace steward standing at the opening. His foot tapped rhythmically against the ground, but neither Elda nor Sypher made a move to hurry up, continuing their silent, measured pace.

The palace was as beautiful as the rest of the city, all white moonstone and intricate golden detailing. A glass dome rose high up towards the moon, its faceted windows refracting the faint light and shattering moonbeams across the surface of the water. Elda imagined the light show when the sun hit it in the morning would be spectacular.

Runiel’s palace sat on its own island in the centre of the enormous lake, only accessible by the intricately carved stone bridge they were crossing, and Cenet spread out beyond the shore in a picturesque landscape of white and gold. The whole thing was beautiful to look at but the amount of wealth on display seemed wasteful.

“Greetings, Your Grace, Soul Forge,” the steward said, bowing low enough that his pale blue tresses swept the ground. When he straightened up his hair fell down to his chest in a long, smooth curtain. His features were sharp, narrow lilac eyes only surveying Sypher. “This way. The Prince is expecting you.”

They followed him under a pearl archway coated in delicate carvings and through the verdant gardens leading to the palace doors, none of them speaking a word. Sypher still didn’t look at Elda.

“Ah, how wonderful to see you, Your Grace! And with the new Prince, no less!” Runiel’s voice floated through the foyer of the vast palace like a wind chime, tinkling ahead of him as he descended the stairs. Today, he wore the finest silk robes of pale gold, decorated with lilac threads and gemstones that accentuated the deep violet of his eyes. They spread out behind him with every step he took down the grand staircase, framing every inch of his beauty in gold.

“Prince Falmyr, it’s a pleasure to see you,” Elda beamed, plastering on a smile and curtseying to him. It was much easier to do without the voluminous skirts her mother forced her to wear. Sypher followed her lead with a respectful bow.

“The pleasure is all mine, my beauty. My heart still aches at losing your favour at the banquet.” He pressed a hand delicately to his chest. “Do tell me, what brings you both to my home so suddenly?”

“My purpose,” Elda replied, clasping her hands in front of her. It was easy to recall the rigid etiquette she’d been raised with, her speech slipping back into its old formal lilt with little effort on her part. “The Spirits have brought us to the Weeping Mountain.”

“I see,” he nodded. “How odd. That mountain is off limits to the public, Your Grace.” His violet eyes strayed to the steward lingering in the doorway. “Ragnor, have the kitchens bring out the evening meal early for me, would you? Our guests have travelled far and are deserving of something to replenish them.”

“As you wish, your eminence. Shall I show the guests to their room?”

“No need, I’ll show them.” Runiel smiled, his eyes twinkling in a way that made Elda nervous. She watched him sweep an arm out, his intricate robes swishing as he moved. “This way, my friends. We can talk over dinner.”

“I’m not wearing that.” Sypher scowled down at the outfit on the bed. It was as ostentatious as the robe Runiel had worn to greet them and the exact opposite of anything the Soul Forge would pick out.

“You have to. It’s part of the etiquette you said you needed help with.”

“Why does etiquette dictate what I wear?”

“Spirits, you’re worse than Vel today,” Elda scowled. He shot her a black glare. “What? At least he speaks to me. You’ve been ignoring me since this morning.”

“I’m not ignoring you.”

“Oh? Then why won’t you look at me?” Sypher’s brow furrowed into a glower. “What have I done?” she demanded. Silence echoed back at her. “How am I supposed to make up for whatever I did if you won’t tell me what it is?”

“It’s not you,” he sighed, the ridge in his brow relaxing a little. “You’ve done nothing wrong. My mood is Vel’s fault.”

“It is? Why?”

“I’d rather not say.”

Elda folded her arms across her chest. “I’d rather you did.”

“You won’t like it.”

“Try me.” He arched an eyebrow right back at her, those burning eyes darkening a fraction. She knew Vel was watching her too.

“Fine. Your new armour is... tight. And red. Two of his favourite things.” The admission was stilted but he held her stare, daring her to blush. Elda mulled over her response for a moment, composing herself before speaking.

“Funny. Julian said red was your favourite colour.” Her pulse thudded erratically but her cheeks stayed mercifully cool. She knew the wide, hardened belt was snug around her waist and the red tunic she wore to match it accentuated her chest more than her previous armour, but she hadn’t expected it to cause trouble.

“Red is my favourite colour. The difference is that I don’t want to tear your clothes off.” Elda lost the battle; a blush hot enough to melt steel spread right to the tips of her pointed ears. “I’ve been avoiding looking at you because every time I do, Vel acts up.” Sypher scowled. “He still won’t shut up.”

“You know he’s just doing it to annoy you. If he meant it he’d come out and say whatever he’s thinking directly to me.”

Sypher’s eyes widened, his shoulders tensing. “Please don’t tempt him.”

“I’m not tempting him.”

“It sounds like you are.”

“I’m pointing out that if he really wanted to do anything about it, he would. Instead he’s just trying to rub you up the wrong way. That’s even more annoying for me than the thought of him flirting with me.” Irritation made her words sharper than she intended, and she knew as soon as they were out that it was a mistake.

“Fuck,” Sypher muttered, and the red left his eyes. Dark veins spread beneath his skin, his teeth sharpening in a second. The demon smiled, stalking across the room until his face was an inch from hers.

“You have three seconds to apologise to me,” he told her, his voice sliding over her skin like silk. Elda swallowed her nerves and frowned up at him, too annoyed at him to play his game.

“For wearing armour? Not likely.” She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. “If you can’t handle me fully dressed, what makes you think you could take me on without clothes? Full-coverage armour shouldn’t make you act like a sexually frustrated beast.”

“Oh, varro, that was the wrong thing to say,” he purred, his nose skimming her throat until his lips were at her ear, his breath tickling her skin.

“Is it? I think it’s the truth.” Keeping the tremble out of her voice was getting harder.

“I might start believing you’re flirting with me if you keep talking like that. You know I like a challenge.”

“I’m not flirting, I’m asking a question.”

“Hmm. It sounded more like a challenge to me.” She took a quick breath and laid her hands flat on his chest, pushing him back with as much force as she could manage. She knew he could withstand her efforts, yet he took a step back.

“The first time we properly met, you told me that you were looking forward to the day I begged for it. Today isn’t that day. If you keep upsetting Sypher for your own entertainment, it’ll never happen. Got that?” Vel looked down at her with his head cocked, and then he started laughing. When he was finished he leaned in and gripped her chin gently.

“So you are open to the possibility of begging me to satisfy you? I’ll have to try a little harder to make it happen then,” he murmured. Elda’s breath caught in her throat.

Vel winked, and suddenly she was faced with Sypher again, the dark veins and sharpened teeth retracting to leave a surprised-looking Soul Forge behind. His fiery eyes blinked, still very close to her face. He frowned and traded his hold on her chin for a hand at her shoulder.

“El,” he began softly, “if I tell you not to goad him, I mean it. He isn’t like me. It’s not safe.”

“I didn’t mean to,” she mumbled. “I just wanted him to know he can’t spend all his time annoying you.”

“There were better ways to convince him of that than admitting you’re attracted to him,” Sypher answered slowly, frowning at her. Elda groaned and dropped her face into her hands.