Page 11 of Unbound By Shadows
Hollen nodded. “On the eighth floor.”
Selene sat back on the couch, debating how to spend her first day in Aurelia. There was a strong pull to hide away in her room where nothing bad had happened to her so far. But another part of her was curious about what could be found outside her door. She had always dreamt of travel and adventure, and now here she was, a true stranger in a strange land.
I might as well make the best of it.
"Why don't you show me the library first, then we'll figure out the rest,” she said.
Hollen flashed a smile so broad Selene could see her small fangs. “As you wish, my lady.”
Chapter 5
Sam descended the winding stairs from his chambers with heavy steps. After being informed there was yet another ball to be held tonight, he was in no hurry to start duty. Unlike other guards who enjoyed a raucous shift, Sam preferred to work quiet evenings where he was less likely to lose control.
He had been about to start a new book when the small Quartz of Transference he kept near the bed displayed a message about tonight’s ball. It was surprising since a farewell for the Nereid would not take place until next week, and there were no mating celebrations planned. This was probably a celebration of someone’s hat or new advancement in napping practices, he thought wryly. The Malkina loved any excuse for drinking, dancing, and sleeping in the next morning.
When he was a boy, the occurrence of balls and celebrations in the Underworld were rare and all the more special because of it. Demons could be hedonistic and greedy, but they understood the importance of ritual. Rules had to be followed, and they never did anything without deep meaning.
His chest ached as he thought back to the stories his motherused to tell about the ball that honored his own birth.The firstborn’s arrival in the kingdom of Asmodeus, the Venomous One, was marked with great pride, she had said, with feasts prepared, sacrifices given, and oaths sworn. As a boy, he had begged his mother to recite every detail of the celebration. Patiently, she recounted how his uncles had continuously called for more wine, and his aunts bickered over who’d brought the best gift. His grandmother flapped her great black wings as she flew around the kingdom announcing news of his birth, while all the imps bowed before his crib.
But his favorite part of his mother’s stories was how his father had cheered when it was announced that Sam was a demon of Vengeance. The Underworld’s mystic had seen it in Sam’s aura, and she was never wrong. King Asmodeus was a Wrath demon, so having a son who would be driven to inflict retribution upon the deserving dead was a source of great pride.
Sam frowned as he realized he had never asked how his mother reacted to the news of his calling. Was she pleased to have a Vengeance demon son? Perhaps she would have preferred him to have been born a demon of Judgment or of Delusions—something less prone to violence. She was a graceful Shadow demon and the only one of her kind. What if she wished her son had inherited more of her nature than just shadow control? They both shared a strong sense of justice, yet his mother possessed different sensibilities than other demons in the court. "My fated mate is too merciful, too generous,” his father would scold affectionately.
If only I had asked more, paid more attention.This was the refrain that spun around Sam’s head constantly: regret that he had not soaked up more of his history, his family, everything about the Underworld during his eight short years of life before he was kidnapped and brought to Aurelia. Without his father to teach him how to judge what actions deserved pass or punishment, he found his innate drive to punish difficult to control.
Quickly, Sam jerked his head as if he could shakethe painful memories away. He had been in Aurelia for over twenty years now and knew there was no use pining for the past.
As he approached the ballroom, he considered how at least tonight there was no impending threat to worry about as he and Arkaya had feared yesterday. Once she had sent the signal that all was well, Sam had gone back inside, putting the pomegranate scent out of his mind. Later, he had overheard two guards mention something about a lost human on the grounds, but he'd dismissed the idea. Both guards were prone to exaggeration, but Rig especially was fond of telling falsehoods—at least he had been until Sam corrected him of the habit.
Perhaps he needs a reminder…
Pulling open the doors of the ballroom, Sam surveyed the room for any signs of conflict. He found none. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves as they sipped wine and conversed at tables decorated with clusters of crystal shards.
A small crowd of males gathered around one side of the head table, which sat on a raised platform across from the entryway. This was odd, but not worrisome. However, Sam was surprised to see that Queen Thema was not at the center of the crowd’s focus as he expected but was gnawing at a bone several seats away next to Queen Cebna. Standing with his back to the wall, Sam fell into his usual guard posture: wide stance, crossed arms, deep scowl. A few of the castle’s resident cats rubbed against his legs, but Sam remained motionless.
After the dessert was served, Queen Thema announced, to Sam’s dismay, that the night was about to be ruined by the most pointless of activities:dancing.The ballroom was cleared of tables, and servants quickly swept the marble floor. The chandeliers were dimmed, but moonlight streamed in through the tall windows, giving the room a soft glow.
Sam watched another guard help steady a drunken Lycah about to stumble headfirst into a tray of dirty dishes. A group of teenaged Malkina girls giggled as they walked past a group of Nereid boys. Anelder Drago banged his cane on the ground to get his mate’s attention. Rig wasn’t on guard duty tonight, but Sam saw him scurry past clutching two glasses of wine in his fleshy hands.
Sam stifled a groan when the court musicians began to play. They started with one of his least favorite selections from their repertoire—a quick melody paired with the trite refrain of “My love, my love, I’ve found you at last.”
Sam saw the crowd at the head table had thinned considerably. Thema had stepped off the platform to make her rounds while Queen Cebna dozed in her seat. Others had dispersed, until all that was left at the table were three females surrounded by a few males. He recognized Arkaya, Hollen, and—Sam narrowed his eyes to identify the third and blinked.
All his senses sharpened, and his body tensed.
He then heard three sounds—a gasp, a sigh, and a growl. It took several seconds before he realized each sound had come from his own throat.
Arkaya and Hollen sat on either side of a female Sam had never seen. His heartbeat quickened as he stared, and a shiver ran through him.
Who is she?Whatis she?
The stranger’s features were balanced in a way that was both pleasing and magnetic. She didn’t possess the angular, hard edges of the Malkina countenance. Instead, her face held a sweet roundness. Her skin was smooth, and he could see no fur, fish scales, or feathers to place her as one of the Aurelian races. Sam’s claws shot out from under his fingernails with the need to stroke the lock of brown hair tumbling over her shoulder. What was happening to him?
Shewas the one the crowd was gathered around, he realized. A visitor so beautiful she could pull attention away from a pair of queens. His breath came in shallow pants. Her figure was more lush than lean, and the graceful curve of her neck reminded him of something he couldn’t place, a long-forgotten memory rising to the surface. His palms began to sweat.
To his right, he could hear an argument over vampire staking techniques getting heated, but he didn’t even turn. Someone could have been setting fire to the castle or committing murder next to him, and he wouldn’t have looked away. Hollen leaned in to whisper something in the female’s ear, and she laughed, causing Sam’s stomach to lurch at the appearance of her smile. She bore no fangs that he could see.
The stranger moved with an otherworldly fluidity; unlike any creature he had ever seen in Aurelia. Although it was considered terribly rude to ask one’s race, he wanted to charge toward her and demand it. Yet his feet felt rooted to the floor.
