The Night's Child | The Night Court Chronicles

★ Prologue ★

Emrys was often plagued by nightmares of that night. One of his last nights in the Court of Nightmares. The night he stabbed his mate through the heart with a blade of purest ash wood.

Tonight, it seemed, was no different.

There was nothing truly off about the goings on of the evening they had had together. Osiris had been less cruel than usual; that alone had gotten Emrys' guard up. The nights that went well were usually the ones that ended the worst for him. They were the nights that Osiris wanted more from him than the usual; someone to take his anger out on. Emrys had the cuts and bruises to show for it, too. Someone to verbally assault with a plethora of accusations and acerbically stated patronizing comments meant to belittle and get under Emrys' skin, because Emrys was the only person who absolutely had to take Osiris' shit.

Though, after a few years here in the Court of Nightmares, Emrys had grown quite used to the verbal assaults and had not flinched or showed weakness or self-doubt when Osiris got like he did. The male had learned quickly that he had to work much harder to garner a satisfactory reaction from him that way.

Which was when the near-daily beatings came into play.

Osiris knew that physical blows would elicit the response he wanted, the sadist, because no matter how hard Emrys tried, no matter how hard he bit his lip, his tongue, he invariably cried out in pain as blow after blow was given him. Quite a few landing on already sore spots where ugly black and blue bruises still stood out against the paleness of his creamy skin, screaming in pain as Osiris beat him.

But he took it.

Because Osiris was his mate.

It wasn't Emrys' place to backtalk or tell him no. Osiris was older, more skilled, worthy of the title he was given at Court and the warrior's armor he kept in his quarters. But nights like this usually ended with cuts and bruises in places no one that was not wholly intimate with him would ever see. And Osiris took a barbarous pleasure in admiring his handiwork as Emrys lay on their bed, in too much pain to move, as he forced himself not to wince and limp the following day. Those were the days Emrys usually decided to stay in the small house he shared with Osiris rather than go out and do gods-knew what.

But tonight...

Tonight, Emrys saw that gleam in Osiris' eye that promised pain and Emrys, functioning on no sleep and having endured a hellish day, began to panic. Osiris motioned for Emrys to follow him to the bedroom, because after so many years of the same routine, Emrys no longer fought against him. He learned it would be less painful to just do what Osiris wanted, to give in to his whims, his callous desires.

And as Osiris stood at the foot of the bed expectantly, Emrys began undressing the moment he walked through the door, not bothering to close it. He folded his clothes neatly and set them on the dresser across from the bed before moving for the bed itself. He could feel Osiris's eyes following his every move. Emrys found it absolutely repugnant, and was disgusted with himself as he lay on the bed, hoisting his backside into the air and spreading his legs for Osiris.

As he felt the male move on the bed behind him and heard the sound of a zipper being undone, his attention snagged on the ash blade he'd hidden under his pillow weeks and weeks ago.

He'd never intended to use it on his mate- it was more of an escape plan should Emrys ever find he could no longer bear the life he'd let himself get sucked into, that he'd chosen to remain in.

Regardless of the many times his father, the High Lord of the Night Court, had visited the Court of Nightmares for business, and had made a point of telling Emrys it was not necessary for him to stay there because of Osiris, that it was nothing his family asked of him... Emrys always shook his head, put on a smile and told his father that he was happy there.