Page 45 of To Dwell in Shadows
“I felt the bond come into place.”
Lamia gave him a pitying look. “I fear you may have confused feelings of lust for the mate bond. Demons can’t be fated to mate with humans.”
“No. I have had… feelings of lust before meeting Selene, but what we have is different.” He shifted his sitting position on the floor. Sharing such personal details made him feel deeply uneasy. “Even before we claimed each other, Selene was able to wield control of the shadows. You saw what she did with the hydra. Doesn’t that prove she’s my mate?”
“It was probably you controlling them instinctively.” Lamia paused to chew an olive, then gestured at him with her fork. “Wouldn’t you like someone to match your strength and power? An equal?”
“Seleneisan equal to me.”
“My darling son, she’s not. Even if I had stayed a Goblyn, I would have still been a worthy mate to Asmodeus. We are both royalty and possess magick. But a human and a demon? She brings nothing of benefit to our family. Or your kingdom.”
His spine stiffened. “I disagree. She has the ability to calm and soothe me. It is a gift I cherish deeply.”
“Dear one, you’re being silly. Even if you want to keep Selene as a lover, you would still be free to take another wife. Or several wives. Ones more advantageous to your status.”
Sam stared down at the fresh greens on his plate, their taste turning sour in his mouth. A familiar sensation rose up in him—one he had thought he left behind in Aurelia.
It was the feeling of being not quite enough. Of being an outcast. Of disappointing everyone around him by not being who or what they wanted him to be.
He had known his parents would find his relationship with Selene unconventional, but he believed that would be overlookedsince the will of fate had brought them together. Their pairing was preordained in his mind and not up for debate.
How had their pleasant evening turned so tense? He forced back the angry feelings that were beginning to form by taking three long, slow breaths. “Mother, I ask that you respect my choices. When the season ends, Selene and I are leaving. I don’t wish to discuss it further.”
Lamia’s wings snapped. “A few months is hardly long enough to make up for the time our kingdom has been without their prince. This is where you belong. This is where you were meant torule.”
Sam shook his head. “I’m not the Dark Sovereign.”
“Ha! You believe fate matched you with Selene, yet you reject the idea that fate wants you to be the Dark Sovereign?”
“The Dark Sovereign should be one who wants to lead. One who craves power and seeks to make the Underworld stronger. I wouldn’t be suitable for it. The idea of having subjects or advisors or courtiers repels me. I want to answer only to myself.”
Lamia’s mouth thinned, obviously displeased with his answer.
Sam continued, “It pains me to disappoint you, and I hate that Father is losing his powers. But… ”
He hesitated, then straightened his posture. “I have an idea. Actually, it was Selene’s. Let me serve my royal duty by helping you find the Dark Sovereign.”
Lamia took a sip of wine. “And how would you do that?”
“What if we hosted a tournament or series of trials to find the Dark Sovereign? Then the demon most suited to rule may prove himself worthy.”
Lamia’s eyes narrowed. “What sort of trials do you propose?”
“I’m not sure yet, but we can design them,” Sam replied. “What skills or traits do you think are most crucial for ruling?”
Lamia’s response was swift and decisive. “Unholy strength, the endurance to withstand suffering, mastery of negotiation, and, of course, a talent for deceit.”
“Then we’ll create tests to determine which demon excels in those areas.”
Lamia looked thoughtful for a moment. “Hmm. We could start with a wide pool of contenders then narrow them as they move through each challenge.”
“Yes, that would work. Anyone still standing by the end would be eligible for Father to crown them Dark Sovereign.”
“Mmm,” Lamia replied evasively. She wiped the corners of her mouth with a napkin. “But we mustn’t let any of our subjects know your father’s weakened state.”
“I agree.” Sam swirled his wine in the glass. “Perhaps we could frame the trials as an amusement or a competition to become the king’s favored champion.”
“Intriguing,” Lamia murmured, her gaze sharpening. Then she tilted her head, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. “Very well. I’ll agree to these trials. On one condition.”
