Page 16 of The Magic of Eternity
Slowly, I stood. My robe had come undone but I didn’t bother closing it as I stretched my arms over my head, groaning dramatically. “I have an excellent solution for that, seeing as how I’ve seen enough of your face. How about you let me leave or you can get the fuck out of my room?”
His tail flicked in warning, and my own returning the posturing. Despite knowing what the outcome of a fight with him would be, the demon within me wouldn’t back down from an outright challenge from another male. The way he was puffing up his chest, his lip curling over his teeth... We were getting dangerously close to a fight.
“I came here to offer you a deal, and yet you insult me. You know as well as I, your father was not fit to be king. He didn’t have the fucking backbone for it—I do. I’m going to fix everything he destroyed!”
We circled one another, my body vibrating with the desire to rip his damn horns from his head and stab him with them, preferably in the eyes. “I haven’t heard a deal yet. Get to the fucking point.”
“Yield to me. Renounce your claim to the crown and publicly show your support for my reign. I will let you leave Besmet—exiled, of course—to live the rest of your days as you see fit. Far away from me and far away from this realm.”
“And my family?” I questioned, wondering where he was going with this.
He chuckled darkly. “Your family?” he spat. “I’m the only family you have left, boy.”
“You know exactly who I’m talking about. The family I chose, the family that chose me. The family I’d do anything for. That is not, nor will ever be, you,” I hissed and my fingers curled, my claws pressing against my palms.
“You’d all leave. Never to return.”
“And how do I know they’re alive right now? That they’re safe? Have they been treated with the same courtesy I have been shown?”
He smirked. “You know they haven’t. Most have been held in the dungeons. It’s war, nephew. You’re too fucking soft for this world. You have to do what needs to be done in times like these.”
“Where is my mate?” I bit out, clenching my jaw hard enough that I thought for certain I’d crack a molar.
He shrugged. Fucking shrugged! Rage poured through me like white-hot magma rushing down the slope of a volcano.
“That’s the thing. You and those mages would be given a pass to leave, but not her. I’m not entirely cruel. I would, of course, sever the bonds that connect you to her and her to you. Same for each of them. She belongs here, for eternity. It is her fated destiny!”
I pounced. Pounced like a starved, rabid beast. We hit the ground in a clash of snarls, growls, and intent to maim. My hand found his throat at the same moment his tightened around mine. He’d flipped us so I was sprawled out on the ground, but that didn’t mean he had the advantage. In seconds, we could rip each other’s throats out and be done with it.
“It’s the only way,” he choked out, eyes bugging.
It was at that moment that I smelled it. Fire, damp earth, hard steel and that little dash of sunshine sprinkled with vanilla. Her. Goldie. On him... On his fucking hand that was blocking the air from my very lungs. The thought of her skin beneath his palms… My eyes dropped down and I saw a glint of red. Slowly, I plucked the lone strand of hair from Asrael’s shoulder and stared at it. My woman’s hair was on this piece of shit’s clothes and her scent was on his skin. Fury became a living being within my flesh, as thoughts—of potential situations that could’ve led to this hair and her gods damned scent on him—flashed through my brain at high speed.
My head flew up and smashed into his face, catching him off guard. “I’m going to rip your fucking hands off! How DARE you touch what’s mine!” I grabbed one of his arms, prying it away from his shattered nose and snapping it backward. The crunch and snap of bone and tendon sang to the demon within me. I would cut every inch of flesh from his body that carried her scent, for he did not deserve the gods damned honor of wearing her perfume!
Without warning, I flew back, grunting as I slammed into the wall. Every muscle in my body raged and fought against the invisible magic that was holding me. Asrael staggered around, snarling over his massacred wrist. I would’ve felt a pang of accomplishment had I detached it completely. Instead, I mostly just felt dissatisfied and murderous.
His eyes flared with the heat of a dragon’s fire, and I roared in outrage as he snapped his wrist back into the proper place. The psychopath barely winced! That hand still smelled of my woman. It would haunt me for the rest of my existence.
“I take it you refuse to accept my offer.” The skin around his jagged wound began sealing itself as he healed at a speed that should have been impossible.
I spat at him. “Suck my fucking cock.”
“I can’t say I’m surprised. Unfortunately, nephew, there is no going forward from this. Your story ends tomorrow at dawn. Execution via beheading. It will be public, as you’ll be made an example of. Anyone in the castle who feels loyal to you will know it is futile to continue backing a prince who didn’t live long enough to sit on the throne.” He strode to the door and I still tried to break free, to end his reign of fucking terror. And to rip those hands off. I’d have them, one way or another.
“You may take some solace in the fact that you won’t be going out to meet your fate alone. There’s a good chance you’ll be seeing some of your… family.” He snarled the word, and my stomach clenched with unease. “It should be quite the event.” Asrael stepped through the door and called out his farewell, telling me to sleep well. What a fucking asshole. The door slammed and bolted at the same moment I was released from my binds.
My mind was like a runaway train with how thoughts flew by at high speed, images and memories. Dawn. I had maybe twelve hours. I needed to use them wisely. A wave of calm came over me. There wasn’t much I could do from within my prison, but I could finish my project. It was the least I could do and at least then I would have given something, regardless how small.
I settled into my recliner and picked up my knitting needles, losing myself to my purpose. Three gifts. Four letters. I’d used my time wisely. Khol had always taught me that nothing was over until it was over. I wasn’t giving up; I was merely preparing.
If anyone had a chance of getting out of a situation like this, it would be the wild woman I loved and the men who loved her. I kept a cautious level of hope, not enough to be dangerous. Just enough to keep going.
Iwoke to find myself curled around Red. Her sweet skin was warm and flushed from both the heat of my body and the fire that was still crackling. Her wild red hair was sprawled out over my arm, her face tucked against my chest. I carefully pushed some of the wayward strands off of her cheek. I wasn’t the kind of asshole who thought women should only have long hair. I was the kind of asshole who didn’t want my woman to have to change anything about her appearance just because of some other motherfucker. Ifshewanted to cut her hair, then it should be her choice—not because she needed to escape some psychotic rapist.
Soft puffs of breath tickled my hair, and I took the moment to kiss the top of her head. For the love of Saturn, I’d nearly lost her.Again.This madness had to stop. I remembered every godsforsaken moment in that throne room. Seeing Faris crushed beneath that chandelier, hearing Kai’s cries of pain. I’d been ready to jump into the fray, literally. Fucking Asrael had frozen me in midair as I aimed for the throat of a guard who was about to make a move for Fischer. I was forced to watch as each of my brothers fell, and Khol. Gods. That blow had to have been fatal.
The worst though, the fucking worst of it, the part that haunted my every moment—whether I was awake or not—had been watching the way Red completely broke before my eyes. The betrayal of her mother, yet again. The way she’d reached for me, looking for safety, and I’d failed her. It was as though I was nothing more than a puppet, with Asrael holding my strings.
