The Usurper's Throne

4

I whirled around and saw Damien leaning casually against the wall, right beside our door.

Oh. Our door. Ours.

My heart thudded in my chest.

I knew Damien was attractive; I knew it from the first time I saw him. But suddenly, I realized just how beautiful he was. His hair was sweaty, but the longer strands of blonde hair fell casually. His eyes were a sharp green, framed by sharp cheekbones. He looked regal, I had to admit.

Suddenly, I felt very plain. I knew I wasn't stunning; the scars that ran up and down my arms made my skin anything but smooth. It wasn't smooth or milky; my hair was fine as long as I braided the long strands back or it would get tangled and ratty. Right now, my hair was only one step above sopping wet.

Damien stood up fully and stepped up next to me. "Would you like some help?" he asked. I took a step back and blinked, trying to figure out why this really hot guy was talking to me.

"With what?" I asked. His green eyes were unblinking. He glanced at my back. My dress. I hadn't asked Berry to tie it up. "Oh."

He smiled and gently turned my shoulders to face down the hall. I felt his cold, rough fingers tying up the dress around my wings. My face flushed red as his fingers lingered at the base of my wings. First my neck is sensitive and now my wings are, too?

He finished the knot and I turned to face him. I swallowed, trying to find some flaw on his face. If he had a flaw, then he was human, right? He had a small scar on his chin, I realized. I took a deep breath. He wasn't perfect. His eyes lingered on my lips and then glanced up to meet my own eyes. His eyes had darkened.

"You are so damn sexy," he mumbled. My face began to heat up. His eyes went down to my hands, and I lifted one to show him the progress. "How do they feel?"

"A lot better," I said honestly, trying frantically to clear my mind from his comment. "I think the octopus thing left a mark. Erm. Marks."

"Leviathan. Yeah," he said and turned my hands over. He traced the white mark. "Leviathan—he is a beast. Half dead for so long. For some reason, the Eyeless decided to stick you in a cage with a starved god. There is no doubt that Leviathan liked you, at least." With that, he let go of my hand.

"Leviathan?" I asked.

He sighed. "May we walk and talk? I can give you a tour," Damien said. I nodded and we started down the hall. "There were five gods. The original werewolves that endowed werewolves with magic."

"Gods?" I asked.

Damien nodded. "Or elementals. Leviathan was one. The god of the sea."

"Buried in the desert?" I asked skeptically. "Did he take a wrong turn?" We turned and began walking down the steps into the main atrium.

Damien smirked. "No. As I said, they gave magic to make other werewolves. However, these werewolves weren't content with just a little bit of magic. They wanted it all. So they decided that they would enslave the elementals and force their magic from them. So, they took them and placed the in places far from their power. Leviathan was moved to a desert. Nephila was chained to the ocean floor. Aerie buried deep underground," he said, looking at me. "All so that werewolves could have their power—all of it." We stopped at the end of the staircase and Damien turned to me.

"The werewolves drained them almost dry. Turns out the one behind their capture was an elemental himself, the Wereking. The elemental of darkness."

"So, the Wereking is an elemental?" I asked, confused.

Damien nodded. "He denies it. Everyone does. They are too scared to confess what they did. He kept all the power to himself. He stole the rest of their power and kept them buried where they could not be resurrected. Not without a substantial bit of power. The generations after him outlawed magic, keeping only the old magic of darkness at their side."

"So, the others are trapped? Like Leviathan?"

Damien nodded. "Leviathan, god of the sea. Nephila, goddess of earth. Lucifer, god of light. Aerie, god of sky."

I nodded slowly. "Light and Dark. Sky, land, and sea?"

Damien nodded, impressed.

"So everyone is trapped except the god of darkness, who is the Wereking. So what am I? Am I a werewolf if I have wings?"

Damien shrugged. "That is one of the great mysteries, my dove. One that I intend to chase down when I am Wereking. The old magic will no longer be outlawed."

Suddenly, his story began to make sense. "Wait. You intend to overthrow the king and become the elemental of darkness? Then release old magic back into the world and free the trapped elementals?"

"Not quite. I cannot become an elemental by taking the title of Wereking. It is hereditary. Elementals only pass their power if they have no kin. The Wereking has a child who is not yet king and thus cannot be challenged. But, I can set the elementals free."

"So... Leviathan. He will be free?" I asked. My heart began to thud.

Damien looked at me. "I intended to free them all." I felt the room begin to swirl as my brain wretched me back in time. Suddenly, I was no longer with Damien, standing in a fancy hall. I was being held down on a chair. "—just as Leviathan did from you," I faintly heard Damien say.

The chair. Coarse, splintered wood. Old leather, worn from sweat and blood. Piles of sand were swept in the corners. The Eyeless—I tried to push the memory away, but the scene kept playing in my head. I stared at the carpet, but the straps kept snapping down on me. Then, I felt Leviathan creep onto my hands.

The little creatures were cold and crawled onto my fingers with a horrible lust. The inside of my entire body was crawling with panic, but there was nothing I could do to dislodge the horribly monsters from my hands. One of the Eyeless stood by the wall and laughed.

He laughter pulled me down. Further and further into myself until all that was left was darkness.