2. Rozronuuk
Chapter two
Rozronuuk
The Winter Court
A white dove fluttered through the open window of the throne room in the Winter Court castle and settled on the golden perch upon the dais. The Demon King, my brother, clicked his fingers, the only movement he made while he sat on the throne of melded gold and bones. A royal servant dressed in attire as black as the midnight sky and silver stitching hustled to the dove and extracted the rolled paper message from around the bird’s thin, pink leg before hurrying back to the king and sinking to a low bow.
“Your Majesty.” The servant held the small scroll between his trembling fingers.
I stepped forward from my brother’s side and retrieved the yellowed paper. A warmth I’d never experienced before shot up my arm in an unexpected response to touching the parchment. I frowned a little while handing the note to the king. He unrolled the delicate scroll with his thick fingers. His gaze perused the words, an infinitesimal tick of his eyebrow, the only sign that the note was perhaps bad news. He glanced at me, ebony eyes turning to darkened black orbs, as I returned to stand by his side. His hand curled into a tight fist over the note, crumpling the paper into the secrecy of his palm.
A moment passed. Then another. The receiving room was quiet as the crowd of various demons waited for the king to speak. He flicked open his hand. The paper disintegrated into ash, into oblivion, and fell over his black robes in a sooty gray powder resembling the flakes of snow outside the castle’s wall of our Winter Court. He cast another look at me from the corner of his eyes. Concerned. Wary. I knew the look well. He stood, his presence even larger, more commanding across the room of his vassals.
“The siren queen has issued an invitation to anyone willing to compete in her trials of subjugation to become her mate, and King of the Sirens.” The king spoke with a thunderous voice so those in the back of the enormous room would hear, but there was more to his tone, a warning, and a command to obey him.
My spine straightened like his words rammed a bolt of steel down my back. The siren queen wanted to choose a mate. My brother didn’t glance my way again, even knowing how much his words would affect me. Hope surged through my body at this unexpected announcement.
His eyes narrowed into slits. “I’m sending my brother.” He nodded at me. “As a tribute. An alliance with the siren queen will stand us demons and the Winter Court in good stead.”
He quietened the room to a hush at his announcement.
“Any demon who wants to compete in the trials… well, let me say this once and only once. You won’t have my backing.”
A collective of shocked gasps rang out and echoed as they rippled through the room in a wave of never-ending sound. Sirens were exquisite and their queen even more so. For one to choose a mate was rare, and a treasure to fight for. I almost sagged in relief, but I stayed as unmoving as the hideous statues of carved granite gargoyles staring back at us. The enormity of the king’s words filled every demon’s face with horror. If the demon king didn’t back you, it was a death sentence.
The king nodded as though satisfied they’d received his message, then he strode through the red velvet curtained timber door on the side of the dais. I gave the crowd of demons one last openly hostile stare, letting them see if they didn’t follow the king’s orders, I’d be happy to compete against them in the trials. The rage demon inside me loved a good fight. Almost too much.
I followed the soft pounding of my brother’s footsteps through the hallway. The click of his boots grew louder down the stone stairs and into the tunnels lit with torches along the walls. The enormity of the situation weighed each footstep. I understood my brother’s direction to our secret chamber. We needed seclusion to discuss this turn of events in private, with no prying ears.
He paused at the end of the tunnel, tossed his robe to the side, and slid a large brass key from his inner pocket. As he placed the key in the intricate lock, he turned his head to grin at me over his shoulder.
I scowled and shoved him aside, forcing the door open, and stomped into the room.
His laughter surrounded me as he closed us in and locked the door.
“You think this is funny?” I rounded on him, my fingers curling into fists.
“It’s entertaining.” He clutched his stomach as he fell into the plush chair. “Did you experience the telltale warmth?”
“Yes.” I ran a hand through my hair, avoiding my horns with great care. Which only made him laugh harder.
“I suspected as much when I saw the twitch in your hand. Fate chose the damn Siren Queen for my little brother. What are the odds she’ll keep you?”
I picked up my chair and considered hurling it at the wall for two seconds before putting the chair legs back on the floor and sitting down.
“This is chaotic.”
“In the best way possible.” He waggled his eyebrows as his lips tilted at the edges.
I contemplated scrubbing the smirk off his face the way I had when we were young demon spawn.
His smirk grew like he understood what I was thinking.
“Temper, temper.” He tsked like our mother used to do to us.
I growled.
He chuckled deep in his throat.
I narrowed my eyes. Tempting, so tempting to remind him we were brothers first, but I eased back in the chair, pushing the rage to the back of my mind. As a rage demon, we found that harder than other demons.
“I know you have it in you to make this work.” He leaned back in his chair and placed his leg on his knee.
“I have little choice, don’t I?”
“Not if what the seer Saltine says is true.” He tapped his chin.
“I believe her. She’s never steered us wrong.”
He lifted his heavy crown from his head and set it on the small table. It was like the slight action brought him back to being simply my big brother.
“Rexan?” I muttered.
“Yeah?” he murmured.
There was so much I wanted to say. Thank you for being a good big brother. After someone murdered our parents, you looked out for me. Thank you for everything.
He tipped his chin at me. I tipped mine back. He picked up the crown and placed it back on his head. Our moment of being only brothers was over.
“The siren queen sure is a looker.” He grinned in a devilishly handsome and teasing way. We’d always be brothers, even with the crown on his head.
“You’ll keep those thoughts to yourself about my fated mate if you want to keep your eyes.” I snarled.
He chuckled and stretched back in the seat as though my words did not perturb him. But I meant every one of them. Brother or not. My fated mate was mine, and at last, it was time for me to claim the siren queen.