Love and War Part 1 (The Underworld Coven Series) by Kim Faulks

Author:Kim Faulks
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: australian fantasy, warrior romance, witches and romance, witches and magic, australian alternate history, witches and spells, witches and demons

CHAPTER FIVE

The flickering flames illuminated the room with a burnt-orange glow. The Chosen moved out of the shadows, making her way to the altar. No matter how many candles were alight, they couldn’t reach the darkness inside the room—no light ever would.

She inhaled the heady, metallic scent of blood and looked down at her offering. The heart was not the one she wished for. Creed was still alive. The Elder had failed. She bit back a growl and shoved the other copper bowls aside, making room for the one she carried. There’d be other opportunities to take him down. She could wait—she had all eternity.

A loud clang echoed through the room as a bowl slipped from the clutter. The table in front of her was filled with her offerings to the Ancient—the one true source of power. Flies buzzed around the blackened flesh and rotting fruit. The smell of decay was tinged with the earthy scent of cardamom and the sharp sweetness of aniseed. The combination was enough to make a naïve cower, but she was far from a naïve.

“We are growing stronger, Father. Stronger than ever before.” The Chosen whispered and adjusted the bowl, watching the blood splash against the side. “It won’t be long before the Underworld will belong to us and you will be re-born. I give you my word. I will bring you to life.”

She lifted her eyes to peer into the massive glass cabinet. The dark mist swirled like a barely-formed cyclone, desperately needing a change of atmosphere to come to life. And she was that change. She was the one whom the Ancient had awaited. She reached up and touched the glass. “It won’t be long now. It won’t be long at all.”

The black mist churned inside the cabinet. She let her fingers drop from the cold glass and stepped back, feeling the weight of her burden and welcoming it. Of all the years and of all the leaders, the Ancient had chosen her to lead the Battle of Souls—she wouldn’t let her Father down.

This was the battle the Corrupt army had been waiting on. The one that hinged on her Father being born into this plane. She took one last look at the source of her power and turned away, leaving her spoils to the flies.

She stepped through the shadows. The crack of a whip summoned the screams of the new devotees. They prayed louder. The constant hum reverberated through the church like a hive of angry bees. She emerged behind a statue of the Ancient, making sure her robe was drawn around her face before she moved into view.

The pews were filled to overflowing. The believers were naked, chained, and shackled to the wood, while the elders paced the floor behind them, cracking the whip on tender flesh. If the naïve didn’t believe in her Father at the beginning, they sure did by their end.

The power of prayer was understated. She could feel the power surging inside the church, finding its way to the Ancient, and she couldn’t help but smile.

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