6. CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SIX
Zandren
She deserved answers to all of her questions.
She deserved whatever the fuck she wanted.
I couldn’t imagine what was going through her head right now, and the need to protect her ran rampant through my body, unlike anything I’d ever felt before.
She wasn’t a bear.
She was a demon.
A queen.
And even though she was my mate, she was also the mate of two other men.
A psycho fire mage who was unpredictable, chaotic, and severely unhinged. And a vampire.
That was all I needed right there.
A fucking vampire. I hated vampires. They were calculating, cold, bloodthirsty, and in my opinion, entirely unneeded in the Realm.
I had my work cut out for me with Omaera, but I was ready for the challenge. Maybe she needed to choose one of us and once she mated with one, the Bond with the other two would be severed?
News of King Donovar’s death was spreading throughout the Realm, and nobody could find Lord Lerris either. Was he dead too? Or was he in hiding?
One thing was for sure: I didn’t want to push my mate. Up until tonight, she believed she was human. So I could only imagine the questions and confusion she had as she came to terms with everything. The last thing she needed was any initial pressure. Even though mating with us would solve a lot of problems, she needed to come to terms with that on her own. She needed to want to mate.
The pizza arrived, and we all sat down on the couches and chairs to fill her in.
“How many people are we planning to feed?” my mate’s friend, Gemma, asked. “This is what you order for a football team after practice.”
I tilted my head at her as I brought the five extra-larges I ordered for myself over to the couch and set them on my lap. “What do you mean? I ordered you guys some too.”
She blinked at me. “Are you going to eat all of those?”
“Yes?”
She gaped, then shook her head. “Please don’t make a mess in our bathroom when you hurl it all up. I just cleaned it this morning.”
What did she mean hurl it all up ? I would probably still be hungry after this and need to order a donair or kebab or something.
Shrugging, I opened the first box and growled as I smiled at all the delicious meats piled high on my pie.
“Firstly,” I said, taking a bite of the stringy pizza. “The Realm is the world of our kind. All non- human species. And you are the Queen of all the species. You are also the Queen of the demon species. My father is the King of the Shifters.”
“And my cousin, King Howar, is the King of the Vampires,” Drak added, sitting like he had a stick up his boney ass in the green velvet chair. Oh, how I wished a stake in the heart actually killed vampires like in the movies. Stupid bloodsucking, pale ass, motherfuckers.
“Is there a mage queen or king?” Omaera asked.
Maxar nodded. “Anysa Sadlyn is our Queen.”
“And they all know about me now?”
We all nodded .
“Okay . . .”
“You are the Queen because, although the Realm believed King Donovar had no heirs, he apparently did. Whether he knew about you remains a mystery. But when he died, his powers transferred to you. That is the only explanation.” Even though he wasn’t actually doing anything but talking, the vampire was still pissing me off. I glared at him and growled as I chewed, wishing it was his bones I was crunching and not the delicious all-meat pizza with cheesy crust I ordered.
“How did he die?” she asked.
“He was beheaded,” Drak said with no emotion.
I glared at him. Such an emotionless ass.
Omaera paled. “B-beheaded?”
“It’s the only way to effectively kill a demon or mage,” the vampire went on.
“How do you kill vampires and shifters?” Gemma asked.
“Vampires you can kill in a number of ways,” I said, fixing my gaze on the blood sucker across from me. “Brain hemorrhage—obviously. Beheading is always a good option too. Starvation is another.”
Drak glared at me.
I flipped him the bird as I held my pizza slice. He merely rolled his eyes.
“What about sunlight?” Gemma asked. “In Interview with a Vampire they turned to dust when they were hit with sunlight.”
“Nightwalkers will sizzle and be in immense pain in the sun, but they won’t die,” Drak said. “Daywalkers are fine.”
“How do you kill a shifter?” Gemma was just full of questions, while Omaera sat in the corner of the yellow couch, her knees up to her nose, just listening. But she’d already asked her questions and now was just processing. I could practically hear her cogs spinning as she absorbed all this new information.
“Why don’t you explain this one,” I said to Drak. “Seeing as your kind has killed so many of my kind.” I took a big bite.
He blinked at me curiously for a moment, then turned to Omaera and Gemma. “Beheading. Blood loss. Skinning while in shifter form.”
“You forgot one more,” I growled.
His gaze narrowed at me.
“Killing her cub in front of her,” I said, deadpanned.
He blinked at me more, swallowed, then cleared his throat and focused on Omaera again. “And a broken heart.”
“Oh my god, that’s . . . horrible,” Gemma said. “Why are you guys so—”
“The human race is just as terrible to each other, Gem. Don’t shame them as monsters,” Omaera said softly. “Think of what kind of torture humans have been doing to each other for centuries. Burning at the stake, drawn and quartered, gibbeted, boiling in oil, gas chambers, firing squads, pulled apart by four horse carts, school shootings, killing fields, bombings, tarred and feathered, 9/11, the Holocaust, the genocides in Rwanda and Cambodia—and those are just the tip of the iceberg. Humans are monsters too.” Her face held so much sadness, along with contempt for humans. It was a contempt I shared.
Humans were monsters. My mate and I definitely agreed on that.
Gemma nodded. “That’s fair. People have done—and continue to do—horrible things to each other.”
Omaera’s gaze met mine. “Did vampires do that to your mother?”
All I could do was grunt.
Her bottom lip trembled. “I’m sorry.” Then a lone tear slid down her cheek, and her next words came out in a quaver. “I’m really, really sorry.”
I grunted again and continued to eat my pizza.
“So you’re saying she has an uncle?” Gemma asked, glancing at Omaera with excitement. “Dude, you have family.”
Omaera swallowed. “Does this mean I could abdicate the throne and give it to him?”
“I’ve never heard of an abdication in . . . ever,” the mage said.
I shook my head. “Neither have I.”
The vampire agreed silently.
“But as Queen, I must have some kind of ruling power to change things though, right? Like I can get rid of the whole Fated Mates thing? We should be allowed to choose who we want to marry. Not forced into a marriage like some . . . regency piece of property. I’m not a commodity. I’m not a brood mare to just keep popping out baby bears, mages, and vampires.” Her eyes went wide. “Oh god, if we’re not the same species, how would that even work? Would our children be abominations? Outcasts? Freaks?”
Chuckling at her adorable panic, I finished my first pizza, put the box on the floor, and opened up the second box. Mmmm, mushroom and pepperoni. “Our children would be bear shifters with demon powers. So they’d have the best of both our powers.”
“And ours would be demon-mages. The best of both powers. However, not necessarily fire mages. Their specific mage powers would reveal themselves around the age of five.” Maxar said.
We all faced Drak, waiting to find out what kind of spawn he and Omaera would produce. The idea of him rutting with her made my skin crawl and the bear inside me wanted nothing more than to pull his jugular out of his neck and use it as a skipping rope.
“We would have vampire children only. For as long as I have been alive, I have never heard of a vampire mating with a demon. And if it has happened, there is no record of a vampire-demon hybrid. So that means the vampire gene would be dominant.”
“Why does the demon species rule all the species?” Gemma asked, having gotten up from the couch to grab everyone plates and napkins. Only she, Maxar, and I were eating pizza though.
“It is said that because demons possess the ability of mind manipulation, they are the strongest. They can sit there and do nothing and basically make your brain explode, or convince you to kill yourself. In the past, there were wars over this. Many, many wars,” I pointed out. “But King Donovar ruled peacefully. He didn’t abuse his power. He held several court meetings with all the rulers and listened to them fairly. He preferred to say that they ruled the Realm together, not beneath him. He was a very beloved king.”
Omaera exhaled. “Well, at least my dad wasn’t a tyrant who everyone wanted dead.” She frowned. “Someone did though. And they succeeded.”
“I already have people looking for Lerris,” Drak said. “He is the most likely suspect. Since nobody knew about you, he would be next in line for the throne.”
“Or someone else killed Donovar with the thought that Lerris would become King and be easier to manipulate or overthrow?” Maxar added. “That has happened before. Remember the war of 1689 between King Pyrne of the Demons and King Solovan of the Vampires?”
I nodded. “Another reason why we need to keep you safe. Because if whoever killed your father finds out about you, they’re going to try to take you out too.”
Her moss-green eyes widened. “Take me out ? What if I just give him the throne?”
The vampire, mage, and I exchanged glances with each other.
“Talk to me . Not telepathically with each other,” Omaera demanded.
“I don’t know much about Lord Lerris, but I’m not sure he’s someone we want as King of the Realm,” I said gently. “He’s certainly not someone my father said he’d ever like to see in charge.”
“King Howar said the same thing.”
“As did Queen Anysa’s proxy, who I spoke with,” Maxar added.
“I . . . I need to talk to my aunt,” Omaera finally said, getting up from her little corner of the couch. “She always knows what to do.” Her gaze landed on Gemma. “Right? Boy problems. Life problems. Even math problems, she always has the answer.”
“Is she back from her trip to Mexico?” Gemma asked.
Omaera nodded. “Yes, she got in two nights ago. I meant to go see her, but . . . well, I was kind of struck by fucking lightning.”
“Where is this Delia ?” I asked, still reconciling with Omaera’s mention of boy problems . How many boys did she have problems with in her past? And, what kind of problems did they cause her? Did I need to hunt them down and teach them a lesson? Drag them into the woods and treat them to an eternal mud bath six feet under?
“Twenty minutes from here,” Gemma said, grabbing another piece of pizza. She glanced at her phone. “It’s like three in the morning now. We should at least wait for it to be a decent hour before we go knocking on Delia’s door.”
Omaera chewed on the side of her thumbnail as she paced back and forth along the transition that separated the kitchen from the living room. “Why do I feel like I need to go to her right now? ”
“Because you’re panicking and you need answers,” Gemma said. “But waiting a few hours won’t change anything. Let her sleep. You should sleep too.”
I nodded, and put my second empty pizza box on the floor. “That’s a good idea.”
Omaera didn’t look convinced, though. She seemed agitated—more than what I’d grown used to. Her chest heaved and her gaze shifted erratically back and forth. She growled. “How the hell do any of you expect me to sleep when . . . all of this is going on?” She waved her hands at the three of us. “I really feel like I need to go to Delia right now . Like once I talk to her, all of this will make sense.”
Gemma’s face softened. “And I’m sure it will. In. The. Morning. Let her sleep. And you should sleep, too.”
Frowning, I stood up, rested my pizza boxes on the coffee table, and went to her. “There isn’t anything we can do until morning. Maybe you will find answers in your dreams, remember something else that happened when you woke up after the lightning.” With hesitation, I rested my hands on her shoulders, applying just a little bit of pressure. I wanted to jump for joy when she sighed beneath my touch, closed her eyes, and finally nodded.
“Fine,” she gritted out. “But I’m in my room alone . You three . . . try not to kill each other . . . or do. I don’t care.”
Gemma pried herself out of her chair and came over to give Omaera a hug. Jealousy rippled through me at how close her friend got to get to her, and yet she barely let me touch her.
Because you’re a beastly stranger she doesn’t know, who showed up at her house without any pants on.
Right!
I needed to do better.
“What can I do to help?” I asked, and genuinely meaning it.
She appeared exhausted and barely able to keep her eyes open, but there was still a fire there, still a spark that I longed to get to know better. With a weary sigh, she glanced at me. “Figure out how we can get rid of this whole Fated Mates bullshit, because it’s not fucking happening.” Then she trudged toward a closed bedroom door, slipped inside, and didn’t come back out.
We all turned our attention to her friend.
“What are you looking at me for?” Gemma asked. “I’m not your Fated Mate. And thank fuck for that.” She took a bite of her pizza.
“What was Omaera’s upbringing like?” I asked, eager to know as much about my mate as possible, figuring her best friend was the best source for that information.
Gemma eyed us all curiously. “What makes you think I’m going to tell you anything?”
“Because you love her and want what is best for her. And what is best for her is allowing her mates to properly claim her. So that she is protected and cared for,” Drak said. His tone was so dry and patronizing. Like he figured all of this was a no-brainer and humans should just understand. I mean it was a no-brainer to me, but to someone who just learned about our world, it had to be a lot to take in. Vampires were such robotic, emotionless dicks. And this one was no different. Why couldn’t he just disappear?
“We still haven’t even addressed the problem that this human knows of the Realm,” Maxar said, gesturing to Gemma.
“This human ?” Gemma snapped. “Excuse me?”
I exchanged looks with Drak, then we both glanced at Maxar. “You do what I think you’re thinking and Omaera will burn your balls off before she accepts your brand.”
“That’s your mark?” Gemma asked with a squeak. “You have to brand her?”
“She’ll enjoy it,” he said without missing a beat before turning to me. “I wasn’t thinking of killing her. But finding a spellcaster to wipe her memory isn’t the worst idea.”
Gemma lunged for the mace that sat on the kitchen island. “Nobody is wiping my fucking memory. You got that?”
“You can’t wipe Omaera’s memory. So wiping her friend’s memory would piss off Omaera. Try again,” I said, shaking my head at the stupid fire mage. I went back to the couch and dug into my third pizza box.
“Is me knowing about your realm a bad thing?” Gemma asked, still pointing the mace at us. It might piss off a real black bear, but it’d do absolutely nothing to me. I wasn’t about to tell her that though. It was better that humans feared us.
They already feared so many things that they didn’t know. Their beliefs were wack.
“It is,” Drak said, sitting there apathetically with such a punchable face. “Humans are not permitted to know of our world. And if they do learn of it, we either wipe their memories or eliminate them.”
“You kill humans who find out about you?” Gemma’s voice was high-pitched enough, dogs were probably howling somewhere.
“We try not to,” Drak replied. “But as a form of preservation for our world, sometimes it’s necessary.”
“Well, you’re not wiping my memory or killing me. So—”
“No, we’re not,” I replied, taking a bite of my honey-barbecue chicken pizza. “But you need to swear on . . . whatever is sacred to you, that you won’t tell a soul about our world. About what you know and will learn. Humans are . . .”
“Unevolved. Stupid. Terrified. Selfish. And ruled by an antiquated patriarchal ideology that should have died out centuries ago,” Maxar said.
Well, he wasn’t wrong. But I was planning to be less insulting.
“I won’t tell a soul,” Gemma said, glaring at Maxar. “Not all of us are unevolved, stupid, selfish, or terrified. I agree with you about the antiquated patriarchal ideology though.”
“No, you actually have to swear on something,” I said. “Like it will bind your promise, and if you mutter a word, that promise will break and bad things will happen.”
Her green-hazel eyes went wide. “Seriously?”
“Seriously,” Drak said, his tone as even and dry as a fucking endless desert.
She glanced around the room, still standing there holding the mace. “Okay . . . uh . . . I swear on the graves of my dead parents and dead brother that I will never breathe a word about your realm to any other human. I will never share what I know or use that knowledge to hurt anyone from your realm.” She lifted her brows. “We good? ”
“What will happen to you if you do?” Drak asked.
“I dunno? I’ll join them in their graves?”
A white beam of light flashed through the room, followed by a loud thunderclap.
“What just happened?” the redhead asked, flipping her focus back and forth between all of us.
“You made a magical, solemn vow. Break it, and you’ll join your family in their graves,” Drak said.
Her mouth dropped open. “Seriously?”
“Why does she not think we’re serious about this?” Drak asked. “I don’t understand this human.”
“This human ?” she shrieked.
“You went dark with that solemn vow,” Maxar said, shaking his head. “You could have done something less fatal, like a five-day rash, or chlamydia. But I mean, at least we know you’ll keep your word with death hanging over your head.”
The bedroom door opened and Omaera appeared wearing nothing but a plain, ribbed, gray tank top with no bra, and black booty shorts. She also wore a pale purple, silk scarf over her wild curls. “What is going on?”
“I just made a death vow!” Gemma said, panic in her eyes.
“Huh?”
“I made some magical vow not to tell another human about your realm. Otherwise, if I do, I’ll go join my parents and Andrew in their graves. Then there was a beam of light and a thunderclap.”
Omaera’s gaze swung to mine. “Huh?”
“It was either that, wipe her memory, or kill her,” Maxar said with a casual shrug.
I hung my head. “There were other options. She didn’t have to choose death.”
“I didn’t know I had other options. I just suggested something, and the magic took over.” Gemma approached Omaera. “Dude, I think this shit is real. Something happened. Like I even feel different. And if I do say something, does that mean I’ll just die and, in spirit, meet them? ”
“No. You will literally be transported by magic to their graves. You will be buried alive,” Drak said.
Oh, he was not doing any of us any favors.
Omaera rounded on him with a harsh glare. “Reverse it.”
“Impossible,” he said. “She made the vow. Not us.”
“She’s human. She didn’t know what she was doing.” Omaera stomped over to Drak and glared down at him. “Reverse. It.”
“I. Can’t.” He pinched his eyes shut and a trickle of blood dripped from his left nostril. I could tell he was in pain. She was doing her mind squeeze thing again, but Drak was trying to fight it.
There were ways where we could block the demon mind fucks—young cubs and vampires alike were trained to do so. But she was so powerful and untrained with those powers that we were powerless against her. The best thing to do was not piss her off.
“Maer. Maer, stop.” Gemma ran over to her. “You’re hurting him. Stop.” She placed a hand on Omaera’s shoulder and the relief that hit Drak was instant. The pained contortion of his face softened, and he exhaled before reaching into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and pulling out his embroidered and monogrammed handkerchief.
Remorse filled Omaera’s eyes. “I . . . I’m sorry.”
Drak dabbed at his nose. “It’s fine. But I cannot reverse her oath. That is between her and . . . the higher powers.”
“Just don’t tell anyone and you’ll be fine,” Maxar said, grabbing another slice of pizza.
“And if she slips up?” Omaera said frantically.
“This is incentive not to. We all have secrets. This just needs to be one of hers.” He shrugged and chewed as a little rainbow flame danced along his moving knuckles.
“I’m going to bed. Gem, you should too. No more death oaths allowed.” Omaera glared at all three of us. “You three . . . fuck, I don’t even know. You’ll probably be here when I wake up, I assume. So . . . try not to fucking snore or break anything.” Then she stomped back to her bedroom and slammed the door.
Gemma stared at all of us, holding the mace like a gun as she skimmed the perimeter of the room. Then she made her way to her bedroom.
“Are the only bathrooms in their rooms?” Maxar asked. “I need to piss.”
I glanced at both of them. “Do either of you know what a Pooh Bear is?”