Page 26 of Ruthless Monsters

His smile falls, his expression becoming hard again, and I almost regret saying it. “That night as she surrendered herself to me, as she took her vows to become my wife, I didn’t understand what was happening. Her power leeched into me as I held her, and she grew limp and cold in my arms. I was desperate to give it back. I thought I’d do anything to keep her with me, but then I felt the rush of it. The power swelled inside me, and I knew I could do great things with her magic at my fingertips. I realized then that while my wife was gone, her love was a gift, and I would not waste it.” A manic gleam enters his eyes, and if I wasn’t in this weird ethereal state, bile would have crept up my throat.

“You’re talking like you’re glad she died. I thought you loved her?” I question.

His eyes sparkle, the same cruel king I’d come to know, returning in an instant. “How could I be sad? With her power, I could do so much good. I could do…anything!”

“Good?” I ask incredulously. “What good have you done? Perstalia is destroyed and your kind are underground!”

“I saved them!” he snarls back. “I had no idea that my Yenna was one of the witch anchors.”

“Anchors?”

He nods. “It turns out she was one of three witches with the power of their ancients. It was through their rituals that the power filtered to their people. And when the witches came to find their sister dead in my arms, they didn’t understand it had been an accident. They didn’t give me a chance to explain my own power, one which I had not known about. No, they attacked, and I was forced to flee or waste my Yenna’s sacrifice.”

Wait, what?I can barely speak. Can barely utter the words. “And the witches followed you back to Perstalia,” I say, almost in a whisper. “All because you’d taken the power of their ancients, and they wanted it back. Youstoletheir power.” The room spins, and I can hardly breathe, even in this prison of my own mind. “Y-you’re the reason for all of it. You didn’t save the Perstalians, you doomed them!”And you doomed the demons.

King Celzar doesn’t look the least bit remorseful. “Mother didn’t have the power to stop the witches when they descended on the city, and they couldn’t be reasoned with. Even my brother, the so-called ‘Defender of the Realm’ as he was called by our kind, couldn’t stop them. While Mason led our warriors into battle and was overwhelmed on the battlefield, it was I who had to take control and save those who were left. With the power I had, I was able to create an underground haven for us. A new world where we could escape the witches. I couldn’t match the power of the two anchors they had left, but I could give us a chance.”

I try to place my hand on the wall to ground myself, but I end up touching a frame and the image flickers, this time showing an intense battle scene littered with bodies. A centaur male stands with a sword in his grasp, surrounded by witches on all sides. His large wings are spread wide, arrows embedded between the feathers, and there’s such sorrow in his defeated expression that it makes my heart hurt. The shape of his chin and coloring of his hair are the only features marking him as a relative of King Celzar.

“So, you stole what was theirs and you hid,” my words are quiet, like I’m afraid to say them, because I can’t believe this is true. I think of the graverobbing back in Seral. Of the great war and how the witches had fought to steal our power. How many demons had died? I tried to imagine what life was like for the witches without the power of one of their anchors. I hated them.My entire life I had been told to detest everything about their kind. I’d assumed they were power-hungry monsters, intent on dominating the realms. They tortured demons to figure out how to harvest our power, and no matter what King Celzar is telling me, I can’t ever excuse that, but for the first time in my life, I realize there’s more to their story. So much more.

“You should have told the truth,” I tell him, sickened by what he’s telling me. Sickened by the idea that he would let his kind suffer for his mistake. I think of Pask and every other trapped being in The Haven. “Why didn’t you return the magic?”

“Return it?” His gaze darkens. “Now, why would I do that?”

I stare at him like he’s an imbecile. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe to prevent a war? To prevent genocide?”

“Everything happens for a reason,” he replies, his voice devoid of emotion. “Yenna gifted me her power, and I wasn’t about to squander it.”

“Gifted?” I scoff. “Youstoleit, and you murdered the female you supposedly loved!”

He juts out his chest. “War was merely an opportunity to elevate my kind.”

Elevate?It seems a strange word to use when he quite literally brought them underground, but it’s clear this guy isn’t going to see sense no matter what I say. “If you were so keen on helping everyone, then why cuff them? You say you’re stronger. Why not let everyone have their abilities in The Haven?”

He tilts his head, observing me. “Not everyone who’s given power has the ability to wield it properly,” he replies coldly. “Just like yourself. You let those males all fight over you, when going by the power I felt radiating off you when we were on the surface, I’m guessing you could have done something to put them in their place. No, I’m not going to let anyone ruin my utopia. This way, there is guaranteed peace.”

“Peace?” I snort at the ridiculousness of the statement.

One moment he’s standing before the frame, and the next he’s in my face, towering over me. “I’m not sure why I thought you’d be different to my other brides. I expected you might be one of the few to understand. With your power, I thought you must be able to view the true world. That you would understand the weight of responsibility when it came to ruling a kingdom.” His eyes soften, resignation seeping in. “But I guess, in the end it doesn’t matter. You’ll fade like the others did. Just like her…”

Unfortunately for him, I really struggle to feel sympathy for kings who are this deluded. “Why do you need me? You said yourself, you’re powerful and juiced with witch magic. Why keep stealing from others? And why bother with marriage?”

He grows thoughtful then. “I might be powerful, but my power is not infinite. While my lovely Yenna, was able to draw on the power of the ancients, once I took it from her, that connection was cut off.”

“So the more power you used, the more of it you depleted,” I supply for him, keenly interested in this part of the conversation. “And while her power was great, you’ve now started taking power from your new brides.” I hesitate, thinking through my next move carefully. A moment passes before I force myself to relax and smile. “But…what if you could have your brideandmore power?”

He frowns at me, clearly suspicious of my dramatic change in attitude. “You’ve made it abundantly clear you want nothing to do with me, demon.”

“Well, that’s true,” I tell him bluntly, “But that was because I hate being imprisoned, and it was before I realized just how powerful you are. What if we come to a mutual agreement? I don’t want to die, and you said yourself, you were the happiest when you were with Yenna. I’m not her, but I can be more than a fleeting sacrifice.” I rest a hand on one hip, subtly jutting out my breasts, and a hint of interest touches King Celzar’s eyes.

“It can’t be an accident what happened with Yenna, and it’s not an accident that I’m here now,” I say. “Lady Fate has plans for us, and maybe this time, your bride can live.”

Saying the words ‘your bride’ makes me want to gag, but I keep my posture relaxed. I think of his past lover. He hasn’t explained why he always tries to make his new victims his brides, but I wonder if it’s because in a way he’s subconsciously trying to replay the past. Even though, he knows it’ll always end the same way.

“How so?” he asks cautiously.

“What if, instead of dying, I become your queen?” I say, giving him a coy smile. “Arealqueen. Not a prisoner in your palace, but a partner.”

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