Chapter 89 Hades
“I—” Althea stammered, her heart thudding so loudly she thought it might give her away.
“Yes, Sire!” a voice called before she could say another word.
It was the mage from earlier. He stepped forward swiftly, hands moving as he began weaving the incantation to open the portal. The air rippled, the glow forming into a swirling gate of light and shadow.
Althea let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. For a terrifying moment, she had thought Gavriel was ordering her to do it. The weight of his command was so absolute, it had felt directed at her. Relief washed through her when she realized it wasn’t.
“Your hand is cold, Althea,” Gavriel’s deep voice brushed against her ear, making her tense. His grip tightened, pulling her closer against his side. “Why is that?”
Her throat went dry. She swallowed, forcing a faint smile. “It’s… a bit cold, don’t you think?” she muttered, trying to sound casual though her voice wavered.
He said nothing more. Instead, he drew her in tighter, holding her firmly as though he could feel her unease beneath her calm front. Together, they stepped into the swirling portal.
The world bent and shifted around them until they emerged into a desolate wilderness. The air was heavy with the stench of blood and burning torches flickered across jagged rocks.
Althea’s stomach turned at the sight before her, a man was chained against a slab of stone, his wrists and ankles bound in heavy iron, glowing faintly with runes of suppression. She could feel it instantly, the invisible force pressing down on him, restraining the dark power that writhed restlessly inside.
Her gaze sharpened. There was no mistaking it—the black haze around him pulsed faintly like smoke. The man was a sorcerer of dark magic.
Their eyes locked, and he smirked, teeth glinting beneath the blood smeared across his face.
“Alpha King,” he rasped, his voice both mocking and venomous, “did you bring her here to amuse me? To dig into my mind and pull out your answers?” His gaze slid over Althea’s form with deliberate slowness. “I wouldn’t mind offering you a few details, if the beauty is my reward.”
Althea’s skin crawled at the way he looked at her, the hunger in his eyes sinking into her bones. She didn’t need her gift to know he meant every vile word. But the moment she let herself listen, his thoughts cut through her like knives.
‘How sweet it would be to die with this woman in my arms… to bury myself in her, restless, until my last breath fades…’
Her stomach twisted. Disgust surged through her, but she held herself steady, refusing to show him even a flicker of fear.
“All of you—away!” Gavriel’s sudden roar thundered across the clearing.
The men nearby froze. “But, Sire, the—”
“You too, Gustav!” Gavriel’s eyes burned like fire, his voice leaving no room for argument. “Leave us.”
Hesitant but obedient, the guards and mages retreated one by one, leaving the wilderness eerily silent. Only the crackling of torches remained as Gavriel, Althea, and the chained sorcerer faced each other.
Gavriel turned to her then, his voice low but commanding, carrying the weight of absolute authority. “Get everything you can from him. Every detail about their magic, their leaders, the breaches at the south and northwest.”
Althea’s heart pounded, but she gave a small nod. Steeling herself, she stepped forward until she stood close enough to see the madness dancing in the sorcerer’s eyes. Her breath was steady, though her skin prickled under his dark gaze.
She leaned in, ready to reach into the pit of his thoughts and drag out the secrets he guarded so fiercely.
The sorcerer grinned, baring bloodstained teeth. “So the little lamb dares approach the wolf’s den?” His voice dripped mockery. “Come closer, pretty one. I’ll show you things your Alpha King never could.”
Althea ignored his words and steadied herself. She focused on his eyes—those hollow pits swirling with shadows. Slowly, she reached inward, tugging at the invisible thread that connected thought to thought. At once, a flood of images crashed into her mind.
Screams. Fire. Blood pooling in the grounds. Circles drawn in ash and bone. Hooded figures chanting beneath a sky split open by black light.
She staggered, clutching her temple. The sorcerer’s laughter echoed in her head, but she pressed on. “Who are you working for?” she demanded, her voice trembling but firm.
His thoughts snarled back at her, like barbed wires tightening around her skull. ‘The Order. The Abyssal Order. You cannot stop what has already begun.’
Althea clenched her fists and pushed harder into the sorcerer’s mind. “Why the borders? Why destroy the barriers?”
More images flickered. Maps—stained with blood. Circles marked across kingdoms. A single point in the heart of the south glowing brighter than all the rest.
“To weaken you,” the sorcerer rasped aloud now, unable to contain what leaked from his mind. “To make way… for the gate.”
Her stomach twisted. “What gate?” she pressed.
The sorcerer’s grin widened, but beneath it she felt his fear. His mind screamed, ‘The Abyss… the Abyss will swallow this world!’
She reached deeper, her power slipping past the surface of his mind. At once, images and voices spilled into her thoughts. Shadows lurking in halls. Hooded figures whispering in the corners of different courts. Couriers, guards, even servants—their minds poisoned and sworn to the same cause.
Her chest tightened. Spies. ‘They have spies everywhere… not just here in the south, but in other kingdoms too.’
She swallowed and asked aloud, her voice cutting through the silence, “How many spies are there? Where are they?”
The sorcerer’s eyes flicked up in shock. His smirk faltered. He had never said anything about spies—yet she asked as though she already knew.
“You—” he choked, his grin straining. “You’re in my head.”
Althea ignored his panic and pressed harder. Dark images swirled again. A great pit, endless and black. A throne of bone and shadow. At its heart sat a figure, tall and crowned with fire, his presence choking the air.
“What is the Abyssal Order?” she asked firmly.
The sorcerer’s madness cracked. His thoughts screamed, echoing inside her mind. ‘A demon king will rise. Hades, the ruler of the Abyss. He will rule over every kingdom. His child… his heir will open the path. A child born of power and ruin.’