Chapter 38
Aryana
Aryana helped Zarathos through the maze and off the arena field.
He’d told her that they’d raised them up through the floor for the trial, but they hadn’t been allowed to exit that way.
Xaphoron, before flying off, looked as if he’d prefer nothing more than to take a swipe at them, but then his eyes landed on the chimera and he’d paused.
He finally understood who he was dealing with.
Still, he had also come out victorious. Whatever puzzle they had been trying to solve, he had made it to the crown first.
Aryana frowned. The kalators may be whittled down to only her and Pohan, but there were two extra champions left over going into the final round: Noctyssa from Inferna, and the formicidra from Espiritu Malignos.
What did that mean? Were they just out of the competition?
This was the Demon Trials. It was unlikely they’d let a champion walk away unscathed.
And Neri—what had inspired her to turn so suddenly on Aryana?
It must have been something about the meeting with Tigon, and yet she couldn’t imagine that Neri would actually be conspiring with the half-giant, not after all he’d done to her.
Aryana would probably never find out the answers now that Neri was dead.
The moment the wall shut behind them, Zarathos pulled the shadows close, and they appeared outside his room.
She pushed the door wide, and they entered.
He sank into the vanity chair, spent, and shaking.
His skin held a bluish quality to it that set her on high alert. The snake venom was in his system.
Almost immediately, a pounding came at their door. Both Aryana and Zarathos stiffened.
“It's me, open up,” Marbas said, his voice muffled.
“Come in,” Aryana said in a tension-filled voice.
Marbas burst into the room.
After snapping the door shut, Marbas faced the pair of them, his gaze blazing. “Well, that was a shit show. What the hell were you thinking?”
“Marbas…” Zarathos said.
But the other demon paced, rage and panic lacing his movements at once. “You’ve given everything away, and for what? To protect her?”
Aryana flinched.
“Marbas…” Zarathos’s voice held a low threat.
He gestured with his hands in frustration. “Wonderful, you’re both dead. And the rest of us that are relying on your bargains—”
“Silence!” Zarathos seethed, his nails digging into the wood of the vanity. “Another word and I’ll cut out your tongue. I won’t have you questioning my decisions.” He stretched out a hand. “Now, I expect you possess something to counteract this poison?”
Marbas snorted. His eyes turned on Aryana, filled with resentment, but he reached into his robes and pulled out what appeared to be a root. “Yarrow. Chew on it and it will neutralize the poison in your system almost instantly.”
Zarathos accepted the plant and stuck it in his mouth. “Go. You shouldn’t be here.”
Marbas turned to leave. But then paused. “Sabious has sent word. They say it’s ready.”
Aryana’s eyes darted between them, not knowing what they were talking about, but not wanting to interrupt.
“Tell them I will be there shortly.”
With one last worried glance at Zarathos, Marbas nodded, then departed, closing the door behind him.
“Why did you do that?” Aryana asked him, the question tumbling out of her like a breaking dam as soon as they were alone.
He eyed her warily as he chewed on the yarrow root. “You’ll need to be more specific.”
“You… You knew what was coming with the chimera, and you weakened yourself, made yourself vulnerable so that I would be safe. It’s clear they want me dead and will stop at nothing to achieve it. Why not let me die and be done with it? Why put yourself at risk like that?”
He spit out the yarrow and stood, albeit unsteadily. The plant may have counteracted the poison, but the demon king had still lost a lot of blood. “I have a meeting I need to get to.”
She shoved him, and he fell back into the chair, looking startled. He scowled, snarling.
“Answer the question,” she demanded.
“You are ungrateful, Vampress. Can’t you accept what I did for you and not demand more?”
She folded her arms. “If you expect to gain the vampire throne—”
He snorted. “You have no claim on the vampire throne after you betrayed your uncle and your people. You’re virtually disowned.”
Her fingers pressed into the symbol of the upside down crown on her wrist. “Then why?”
He glared at her, but then averted his gaze. “You are my wife.”
And then she realized… “Everything you do is necessary.”
“Everything.”
“You sent Marbas to watch over me and to protect me when you couldn’t.”
“Yes.”
“You saved me from Balafur because… because you care for me?”
“Yes.”
“At the opening ceremony, when you drew my blood and behaved as if you didn’t care.”
He threw up his hands in exasperation. “You had drawn my blood. You were about to give me away. Only the smell of your blood could cover it.”
“Give you away?”
His jaw clenched. “It doesn’t matter.”
She stepped closer to him. “Zarathos.”
“The point was you weren’t helping me to win the tournament, you were working against me, when you brought me to my knees, when you…”
“I was about to break our bargain.”
“You were about to die unless you did something to make up for it, and the only way I could think was if you were frightened enough of your imminent death…”
“That I would grovel…” Oh, gods. Each action Zarathos had taken had been to protect her. She swallowed, her throat going dry. “And the scepter?”
He ran clawed hands over his horns. “What about it?”
“You didn’t have issues with getting the scepter piece.
You actually chose me over the scepter, didn’t you?
” She hadn’t seen it until now. The way he’d lied about the potion not working but still seeking more.
“The potion you want to get more of that breaks spells. You used it on the effigy to break the enchantment. To free me.”
She hadn’t thought it possible before. But it made perfect sense. Zarathos cared for her. He cared for her more than she had ever imagined.
“You’re my wife, my Bloodbound. After seeing your memories and realizing you and I are the same.
” He motioned between them. “You and I both understand what it is to have our hearts used against us. Our broken parts are mirror images of each other. We are bound, and I didn’t want to lose that.
” His voice softened. “I couldn’t lose that. ”
The Bloodbinding had tied them together.
But it wasn’t causing these feelings. The bond wouldn’t come into play unless they actually cared for one another.
She couldn’t pretend that if she was Bloodbound to Raydin that he would have done any of the things that Zarathos had done.
The demon arch king had been there for her, fighting for her the entire time, before she even realized.
“Do you love me, Zarathos?”
His eyes met hers in desperation, his voice breaking with a rawness that caught in his throat.
“I don’t know how it happened. It’s like a part of me was ripped away, and I’m left here, struggling to hold myself together.
To lose you, Aryana, would be like tearing down the sky and watching the world crumble beneath me.
It would ruin me. My purpose, my reason.
It all begins and ends with you. You are everything to me. You are my weakness.”
His gentle gaze searched hers for a flicker of understanding, his hands trembling slightly as they reached toward her, as if afraid to touch, yet needing to. “Without you, I’m just... nothing. I can’t—I won’t let that happen.”
She stepped close and ran her fingers through his long, silken hair. “You needn’t worry. Your heart is safe with me.”
His brows furrowed in confusion, but as she bent, bringing her lips to his, something shifted. This kiss wasn’t the claiming, fiery ones from before. It was softer, gentler. Within the tender caress, they shared a quiet understanding and reverence for the fragile truths they had spoken.
In that moment, everything paused as they both acknowledged the weight of their words, weaving them into an unspoken promise.
Parts that became a beautiful, tangible whole.
In that brief touch, it was no longer about possession or desperation.
It was a shared vulnerability that neither of them had ever fully allowed before.
Zarathos eased her back. “I really must go. I have an urgent meeting. Ernon and Mils have prepared a bath for you.”
He’d had everything planned out before the trial even occurred.
He stumbled over to his closet and pulled on a shirt, then grabbed a bottle of potion and quickly downed it before proceeding to the door.
Without looking back, he said, “I will return. Stay here. No doubt there are many that are unhappy with the recent turn of events.” And with that he whisked his way from the room.