Chapter 18
Aryana
It took nearly all day for Zarathos to fully recover.
Aryana had tried to rest but spent most of the time wondering about the upcoming opening ceremony.
She wanted to ask Zarathos about the particulars, but he was asleep most of the time and she didn’t want to disturb him.
After several hours he was able to move well enough to access his powers and whisk Aryana up to his chambers.
Then he had gone in search of something to eat to replenish his strength.
The sun had barely set when he walked in, looking like his old self. Lips pressed tight, he gazed at her tentatively. “Tonight is the opening ceremony for the Demon Trials. If we don’t attend, I must forfeit my crown and my life.”
Zarathos had most likely signed a contract magically binding him to the trials. Refusal wasn’t an option. Defiance meant death at the hands of the very magic that sealed the agreement.
And Aryana would die for not assisting him in winning the trials. She wondered how it felt for him to finally be in a bargain where his life was at stake.
She met his gaze. “Then what are we waiting for?”
“I’ll have to bring you through the front gates, as if you have only just arrived.
Nobody knows that you are already here.” He sucked in a slow breath, running a clawed hand through his midnight hair.
“The kalator position will be… difficult for you. You must survive, but you also must hide your fighting skills.”
She bit her lip. What was this about? “Since when is that a requirement for the trials?”
“The role of the kalator has changed over the centuries. Our situation is complicated. Nobody can find out that we are Bloodbound or about my shadow powers or we are as good as dead. Nobody can know of your fighting skills or there will be hell to pay. Do you understand?”
Not really. “Prince Kaelroch probably knows I can fight.”
His mouth twisted in thought. “Doubtful. All the prince saw was you slamming the butt of a spear into a guard’s face before letting it fall. Honestly, that might have happened to any careless soldier, even if they were escorting a human. The holy water spared us a lot of trouble.”
“It caused a lot of trouble,” she muttered, thinking of the bricks in that room baked in the stuff.
“Nothing you couldn’t overcome—with my help, of course. The rest of the demon nations should be as clueless as to your fighting prowess, so as long as you keep your skill hidden, we will be safe.”
She still didn’t fully understand, but she said, “Fine. I’m your kalator, right? Tell me what you need.”
The smile on his face vanished in an instant, and his hands balled into fists. “You’re not going to like it.”
“Since when do you care about what I like?” She gave him a fierce glare. “Tell me, Zarathos.”
“I need to appear as though I’m in control. That I have all the power. Like I can win and…” His gaze focused on hers. “Usually, that is shown in the opening ceremony in how well we dominate our kalator.”
She blinked. Whatever he was going to say, she wasn’t expecting this. “You must dominate me?”
“Yes.”
Things certainly had changed in the five hundred years since the vampires left. “So what? As in wearing ratty clothes and chains?”
Tension tightened his jaw. “You can’t fake it. These are demons. They can smell your emotions. They leak out of your very pores.”
A foreboding twisted her stomach. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying everything has to be authentic, has to feel authentic. So I must know how far you will allow me to go, physically, emotionally… sexually to ensure I am seen the way I need to be seen.”
Oh gods, this was so different from what she’d expected when she made her bargain. What had happened to the Demon Trials over time? Could she trust what he told her was the truth? But why give her this explanation if he wasn’t trying to warn her?
She chewed on her lower lip in thought. “The opening ceremony is important?”
“Yes, it sets the whole tone for what is coming. The trial council will grant each champion a rating during it based on our level of… exhibitionism. The top three who rank highest will be able to inflict a severe penalty against the other players in the first trial. And I am the arch king, so many are already looking for a way to take me down.”
This was what she’d signed up for? “Why didn’t you inform me of this sooner?”
“I shouldn’t have to tell you everything,” he responded, though she caught the hint of shame in his eyes before he looked away. “And it’s not as if we’ve had much time to discuss the future. Besides, how was I supposed to know you were so wholly ignorant?”
“You must have suspected, or you wouldn’t be explaining now,” she snapped, and she swore he flinched.
What did she expect? These were demons. They loved violence and gore and displays of power. It was why she loathed herself and her own kind so much. What can one do when one’s natural instincts included a craving for blood, fear and death?
“So,” he said, “you can either choose a debasement where I’m limited to only something physical and emotional or…” His eyes flashed. “A debasement where anything goes.”
The low blackness in his voice brought the memory of tasting Zarathos’s blood to the forefront of her mind… Her body warmed as she recalled how aroused he’d made her, and a deep dark corner wondered if she chose anything goes, what he’d do to her.
“So you need to debase me,” she murmured.
Shit, what was wrong with her? This wasn’t the time to be indulging her darkest desires. This was the demon arch king in front of his kingdom.
Zarathos spread his hands. “Anything less would paint a giant target on our backs.”
“And then the bargain is broken.”
She watched him, the way the shadows swirled around him in waves, as if agitated, how his lips pressed in a tight line as he looked at her. An even deeper part of her was grateful that he had explained what was expected, however delayed, and let her choose.
At least as much as possible.
He reached out a hand to her. “You have a short period to think about it, but you must give me your answer when we reach the front gate. Come, Vampress.”
Time for the games to begin. She reached out and slid her palm into his.
His clawed fingers closed around her pale skin. “Let us go face the monsters.”
And with that, the shadows descended upon them, and he whisked her away into the darkness.
He took her through the secret entrance, shifting past the cave in and taking her out around the castle until the front gates came into view.
Although she’d spent the last couple of days inside, Aryana had never seen the demon castle from the outside before.
The two of them stood on black stone, hiding behind a large, jagged boulder among the barren volcanic rock.
The castle loomed a short distance away, carved from the same swirling obsidian as the cliff side it rose from.
She drew in a sharp breath at the sight.
Several towering stories jutted upward, crowned with pointed, menacing spires.
She cast a glance at Zarathos. “Vampires are ostentatious?” she asked incredulously.
A dark smile curled his lips. “I never said demons weren’t also ostentatious.”
They lingered in the shadows; the wind blew against them, dragging their scent out into the forest away from the demon fortress.
“As soon as we step out from our hiding spot, we are on stage.” Zarathos frowned at that fact. His gaze shifted to hers, the ring in his eyes glowing intensely. “There will be no going back. What is your decision?”
She could ask him to take it easy on her, but her bargain was to help him win the Demon Trials.
And somehow she suspected that the opening ceremony would be the simplest part.
They needed to put their best foot forward.
She didn’t trust Zarathos, not ever, not fully.
But she knew he was serious about the bargain, and he appeared invested sufficiently in her to make sure she didn’t die.
She wouldn’t like what was to come. But he had warned her, and for now, that was enough.
“I choose anything goes.” If it was for the sake of increasing her odds of survival, she could deal with whatever was to come.
He stiffened, and she saw the surprise creep into his expression. “You don’t want anything goes.”
“Don’t tell me what I want. You offered to let me choose. If that helps us most, then that is what I choose.”
He expelled a long breath, almost like a sigh. “Very well. Are you ready?”
“Probably not, but let’s get this over with.”
“As you wish.” He grabbed her and flung her over his shoulder. She gasped as his wings spread and her stomach plummeted as he launched into the air. As they rose on the wind, his voice murmured as a whisper on the breeze. “Prepare yourself, Aryana, for what comes next.”
When they landed, they were outside the castle. She didn’t speak while the guard let him through the gate.
As soon as they were inside the castle grounds, Zarathos dropped her from his shoulder, his hand weaving into her hair. He slammed his foot behind her legs, and she gasped as pain shot through her scalp as her knees hit the stone with a grating force.
A guard, a bat faced demon from Kingdom Inferna, stared in shock. “Your Majesty, you’re here.”
“You think I’d miss such a joyous occasion?” Zarathos sneered at him. He jerked on her hair. “This is my kalator. Take her to the dungeons and make sure Vivane gets her ready for the ceremony.”
The guard approached, surprise evident in his expression. “She is a vampire, sire.”
A cruel smile crossed his face. “Not just any vampire. She is the heir to King Fallor’s throne.”
The guard’s eyes widened as Zarathos held her, but didn’t yank on her hair again. He frowned at her, his jaw clenching. The look he gave her was one of cold loathing, and she had to fight the shiver that wanted to rush through her.
“Now do as I say and take her to Vivane,” he snapped.