Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
DAMEK
I’ve toured a hundred castles, been hosted by countless barons and viscounts across the Underworld and the human realm. Yet, I’ve never had a show like this one.
Most of the humans living in captivity are broken and boring—especially those held in a household such as Baron Donovan’s. He’s known for his cruelty, both in how he lures humans to his side in the first place, and how he slowly steals their souls.
It appears he and his staff misjudged this one.
With her chaotic ginger hair and a fire burning in her green eyes, she’s not the subservient doll they thought she was.
She’s exactly what I’ve been searching for. A mate that won’t be easy to break. A queen for me—and for the dukes who help me govern. They’ll be just as devoted to her as I am.
When Izoran licks the fresh blood from his injured hand, I know he already is.
Brellan leans down to whisper in my ear as she drags her shackled legs from the worship room. “When should I step in and stop her?”
I hold up my hand. “Don’t. I will.”
She grabs a lit candelabra from the wall. Is she planning to burn the place down? There isn’t much that’s flammable, and demons are built for the scorching heat of the Underworld. All she would manage is killing her fellow captives.
But she doesn’t try to light a set of drapes aflame. Her weary movements take her into the hall, and then she flings the heavy object through the window.
The baron’s guards flinch, along with all the prisoners, but I grin.
Does she think she’ll escape that way? The castle is built into the side of a mountain, and there’s a steep drop from those windows a thousand feet down.
I watch keenly as she basks in the sunlight, her shoulders slumping. The sweet scent of her blood is in the air from a fresh gash on her arm, and it intensifies when she steps through the broken shards to the window.
I’m not sure she looks at what’s beyond the window, but I think she knows there’s only death to be found in this escape route. She doesn’t hesitate as she swings her legs over and hugs herself as she falls.
She’s perfect.
So much confidence. Resolve. Decisiveness.
Brellan is stiff beside me. “Damek,” he warns.
I laugh. “I’ll fetch her, don’t worry.”
The drop is far, and I don’t want to save her too soon. I’m curious to see what her expression says after her life has flashed before her eyes, the rocky ground coming at her at speed.
I fan my wings out behind me, ruffling the feathers and stretching them. Then I take off through the worship room and out the window, sharply turning downward to follow her fall.
She hasn’t screamed, which intrigues me.
My heart races as she descends and I gain on her, exhilaration making my cock hard as she grows closer and closer to crashing into the rocks at the bottom of the sheer drop.
I almost don’t make it.
She’s only a moment away from getting what she wants when I catch her, reversing to zip back up into the clear blue sky.
I hold her princess style in my arms, listening to her gasping breaths. There are tears in her wide, deceptively innocent eyes, and she looks so pretty when she cries.
“You’re lucky I caught you.” My wings flap in large motions, bringing us back up to the broken window.
“No, I’m not,” she bites out.
“You’d rather be dead than belong to me?”
“Yes.”
This is a woman who knows what she wants. Every word from her mouth convinces me more—I need her as my queen.
The problem is, she needs to make the choice to be mine. I don’t keep slaves like Baron Donovan does. In my opinion, it’s a barbaric practice and breeds dissent more than loyalty. A woman forced to be queen will only stab me in the back at the first opportunity.
But someone so confident in their morals will honour their agreements, so all I need to do is make her a deal.
One so tempting she can’t refuse, but so impossible that she can’t win.
This is the perfect day for it. The Night of Nuvelia’s Reign is about to begin, so I won’t have to wait to make her mine. I can make her a bet. If we successfully complete the claiming ritual that I’ve waited hundreds of years to set into motion, she’s ours. If not, she’s free.
We’ll be pushing the boundaries of propriety—usually the queen submits to the ritual without any strings attached.
I doubt the gods will mind if I add a string or two. They’ve always loved a good bargain.
I land on the edge of the window. My dukes are waiting in the hall, but no one else has moved an inch.
“We’ll take her to my quarters,” I state. “We’re not to be bothered while we clean her up and tend to her wounds.”
She begins to squirm, but I dig my fingers into her thigh. Tilting my head down, I speak words only for her. “I have a bet for you, love. You’ll want to hear me out.”
Her eyes narrow into a glare, but she settles. My boots crunch on the glass as I hop down from the sill and carry her in the direction of the lavish quarters I’ve been given for my stay.