Page 70 of Tricky Princess
“How am I supposed to know the number off the top of my head?” he said with a roll of his eyes. “I have better things to do than count souls.”
Belias gave Ellea a small smirk and an unapproved appraisal of her outfit.
“Not looking very royal today, Ellea,” he teased.
Ellea rolled her eyes and looked back to Ros’ father.
“Macaria,” Azzy bellowed.
Beelzebub raised his chin, stretching taller and rolling his shoulders back.
A beautiful woman stepped out of the shadows. Her movements were graceful but predatory as her long legs stopped next to the king. When her black eyes flicked up to Ros, Ellea stepped in front of him. A wicked smirk spread across her sharp face.
“Welcome home, Shadowborn,” she purred. “Why haven’t you visited—”
“Macaria, I called you for a reason,” Azzy growled. “Your territory had a mass amount of souls enter.”
Beelzebub’s glare at your territory quickly paled when the creature slid her eyes to him. They were quickly back on Ros, and Ellea’s magic burned under her skin. Her step forward was stopped when Ros placed a possessive hand on the back of her neck, holding her in place.
“One thousand, eight hundred and ninety-two souls have entered the southern territory this morning, my king,” Macaria hissed, her predatory eyes never leaving Ros’, never blinking.
“We get more than that every day,” Beelzebub said, waving off the number off.
“Not in thirty-two minutes,” Macaria said, still looking at Ros.
Ellea glared at the creature, and her powers roared at her to stop the woman from looking at Ros as though she wanted to eat him or steal him away. Her clawed hands curled by the sides of her pale legs as Ellea let out a hiss.
“The average mass-casualty influx of over a thousand souls can happen at any given time,” Ellea cut in and Macaria slid her gaze to her. Ellea held it. “But never are all the souls considered evil or unworthy. Depending on the location, the numbers are split between the western and eastern territories during those events. The last influx to the southern territory was during the Great Elimination when over three hundred mortals deemed it pertinent to kill about two thousand supernaturals at once. They did not survive, and the eastern territory only saw an influx of a hundred souls—the supernaturals who risked their lives on the front line of that battle.”
Ros squeezed her neck, and she forced herself to continue staring at the creature. She desperately wanted to see the look on his face, but not desperately enough to let Macaria look back at him.
“Isn’t that correct, Macaria?” Ellea crooned.
“You are correct, princess,” she hissed.
“Thank you, Macaria,” the king said, and she bowed. “You are dismissed.”
The creature looked to Ellea under her lashes before shimmering into nothing. She let out a breath and melted into Ros. Everyone seemed to relax.
“Someone has been reading more than I thought,” he whispered into her ear before kissing the side of her head.
Ellea crashed into her armchair in Azzy’s study, the one she usually sat in during their training or when they spent time together. It was plush and meant for someone much larger than her compact frame, which made it perfect for curling up and reading. Ros paced near the windows, glaring at his father and Florence.
The meeting quickly ended after Macaria left. Azzy made the excuse that he had to do his own research and they would reconvene the next day. Sonneillon and Levi both tried to fight the delay, but when the King of the Gods puts his foot down, you must listen regardless of your title.
“What now?” Ellea asked.
Ros only growled.
“Now we plan,” Azzy said. “Florence?”
“I got word from one of our sources that those who died were under some sort of compulsion. None of them were meant to die at this time, and all were mortal,” she said, speaking fast.
“Compulsion?” Ros asked. “Vampires?”
Florence shook her head.
“We still need to look into where the incident happened, but this was a different type of compulsion.”
