Eldritch (The Eating Woods, #2)

by Keri Lake

“We are written in blood. Born for each other. And not even the gods can tear us apart.”

“Buried in the wall of a dead vein was the amulet that housed the curse of Pestilios. Broken by a single sacrifice. One life.” “Dorjan. You bound Prince Dorjan’s soul to it.”

With the Gods’ Glyph, the vale shall fall. An ancient power loosed from thrall. Two worlds smothered by a pestilent pall. From the tree of rot, the insects crawl. Decay and blight unslain by steel, will bring the strongest men to kneel.”

“An impossibility proven true. A dead vein brought to life by the power of a single glyph! And sablefyre, of course.”

“Perhaps he was chosen. Like me.” “How? To be chosen by Deimos, a lesser god, would require⁠—” “Sacrifice. He was sacrificed as a baby. Thrown into the flame and lived.”

“I love him, and I would put the whole world in peril to save him.”

It is the will of the goddess. Morsana chose Deimos. And she chose you well.”

it was never your duty, Maeve. But it is your turn, my sweet sister.

“Severing that vein is useless,” General Loyce kept on. “It is enchanted to heal.”

“He was real. I saw him. He fucking stabbed me!” “You stabbed yourself.”

“It is time to embrace those flames. To remember the pain you suffered while two kings watched in apathy. An assassin does not feel empathy or guilt.

This self-destruction ends now. We have a ward to destroy.”

out of reach on the ground. “As I told you before, I had become infected by the amulet. The night of the Emberforge ritual, I infected you. And in doing so, I created a way to control you. And your flame.”

“The flame inside of me burns infection.” “It is not a simple disease which inhabits your body, but an ancient malediction. A pestilent curse.”

“Do you know what happens to a spindling when he’s given an excessive amount of vivicantem at once?”

“His bloodline magic is restored. But we wouldn’t know because we continue to starve our spindlings.

children who sat curled into one another on the floor. “I acquired my mother’s ability to steal identities rather easily after that. Face eater, she’d once been called. Sanguidin. A vampiric blood magic my sister inherited naturally.

“Your sister is Melantha. Apprentice to the Magelord?”

“Bond with my blood and you can have both of us,” he said.

“He and I share this curse. Our lives are entwined as one. I feel what he feels. I love what he loves.”

“Zevander has been infected his whole life. Branimir, too. Without balance, a weakness, he would’ve been more powerful than any creature in existence. There is no element more destructive, nor chaotic, than the flame.” “The flame was never the cause of Zevander’s affliction?” “The flame is all that keeps the infection from consuming him. A balance, so to speak.” “And Branimir?” “If Branimir didn’t possess a small bit of sablefyre, Aethyria would look quite a bit like Mortasia.” Again,

“A trifecta of power. Disease. Destruction. And Death.”

“You are Deimos. And I am Morsana. We were in love once.” A sadness clung to her voice. “Deimos was banished to sablefyre.” “Yes. And he chose you as his vessel, just as I chose Maevyth as mine. So that one day, we would reunite. It is time for you to transcend.

“He’s taken over my body, perhaps my soul, but he does not command my heart.”

“I will grant you until the time she transcends, when she and I will become one.” “How will she transcend?” “Through death. She is fated to die.”

it must’ve harbored Pestilios for centuries.

if Zevander had died in those moments, it was possible Cadavros had perished alongside him. Which meant Dorjan would’ve perished too, breaking the spell.

“Deimos didn’t long to be king. He longed for Morsana.”

“Through every…thread of fate, I have loved you. Please …

“Why would he fall into the chasm?” “He tried to burn the damned thing.” It was Dravien who answered. “The Umbravale rejects anything it perceives as a threat. Aethyrians true of blood and purpose.”

“Fate could change the path a thousand times over, but in the end, it’ll always be you and me.”

horrifically disfigured woman, who looked to have an empty eye socket stood alongside the blonde. Not the same Melantha I remembered. “Godsblood, you’re…Melisara.” Kazhimyr stumbled backward, his voice strained with shock. “You hired me centuries ago to steal the mortucrux. Your brother was Cad⁠—”