Chapter 7 #4
Moments later, her breathing slowed.
Sleep claimed her quickly.
Aldric remained awake.
He stared into the dim ceiling of the chamber while the warmth of her body rested against him.
The anger was still there.
Quiet.
Waiting.
Never truly gone.
The brand on his shoulder pulsed faintly.
Hot.
As if reminding him.
Of everything.
Of what’s to come.
The choice.
Isendor.
The Inquisitors.
The Citadel.
Or the slow surrender to the rage growing inside him.
He swallowed.
No.
There had to be another way.
I will find it.
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow at dinner he would speak with Goroth.
Carefully.
Quietly.
Nothing reckless.
Nothing stupid.
The brand burned hotter.
Almost as if it disagreed.
Aldric exhaled slowly.
And stared into the dark.
? ? ?
The sky above Nerathys was draped in deep purples and fading blues as evening settled across the horizon.
Seraphae had summoned a dragon for the journey, just like the first time they had traveled there.
During the flight she seemed almost carefree. She leaned against Aldric, kissing the rough line of his stubble, her fingers wandering over his arm and chest whenever he was lost in his thoughts.
But the second her feet touched the ground, she went pale.
Aldric noticed immediately.
“What—?”
Then it hit him.
Perfume.
Heavy. Almost suffocating. Dark and spicy, with the deep scent of aged darkwood.
Then came the laugh.
Guttural.
Practiced.
Almost too sharp to be genuine.
Aldric looked up.
A silhouette stepped out of the shadows.
A demon was approaching them.
Tall.
Handsome in the unmistakable way of old nobility.
Strong chin. Chiseled jawline. Broad shoulders.
Elaborate golden horns swept back from his temples. Crimson eyes gleamed beneath dark brows, and enormous wings rested folded behind his back.
His armor was black and gold, intricately worked, the kind worn only by the highest noble caste of the demon realm.
Aldric glanced around.
Strangely, the courtyard stood empty.
For a brief moment, unease crept into him.
A trap?
An old enemy?
His eyes flicked around the courtyard, searching for weapons.
The only one within reach was the small knife hidden in his boot.
If things went bad, speed and precision would have to suffice.
Eyes.
Throat.
Groin.
He shifted his weight slightly.
But then—
Seraphae sighed.
She stepped forward.
Her head tilted slightly, but her eyes promised murder.
“This must be some kind of cruel joke,” she said coldly. “What in all hellfire are you doing back here?”
The demon stopped at a courteous distance and bowed smoothly.
“Still beautiful as ever. The Velvet Flame of Nerathys… the most dazzling jewel of these lands.”
Her lips pressed into a thin line.
The demon stepped closer and turned his gaze toward Aldric.
“Ah. And this must be your famous bonded knight.”
His eyes drifted slowly over Aldric.
A smile spread across his face, revealing sharp fangs.
It never reached his eyes.
His gaze remained uninterested.
Cold.
“I’ve heard so much about you, Sir Aldric. Truly a pleasure to meet the man who crossed the Endless Fog. Twice.”
He extended his hand.
Aldric looked at the offered hand.
Then at the demon’s eyes.
He gave a short nod.
“Pleasure to meet you—”
“Evereth,” the demon interrupted smoothly.
He didn’t seem bothered in the slightest by Aldric’s lack of courtesy.
Aldric opened his mouth to reply—
But Seraphae cut in.
“I thought after your little scene you’d know better than to come anywhere near me.” Her voice was sharp as glass. “I must say, that the scars on your face and neck healed nicely. Almost.”
There was no politeness in it.
Seraphae was furious.
Evereth waved the comment away lazily.
“Ah yes. That unfortunate incident.” He gave a faint smile, as if amused by the memory. “All is forgiven by now. There are more important matters at play here, hence my presence.” His smile sharpened. “Speaking of the past, I do hope they didn’t banish you for too long for that stunt.”
Seraphae’s eyes flashed.
“Not that you would care. I left on my own terms.”
“I see.” Evereth glanced at Aldric again. “And after all that time… you brought an outsider with you.”
Seraphae didn’t respond.
She simply flicked her hair off her shoulder, dismissing him as though he were something beneath her notice.
Silence settled between them.
Evereth’s mouth curled into a crooked smirk.
He gave a small nod, like a man winning a game only he knew the rules to.
Then he turned and began walking toward the palace gates.
“Come,” he said over his shoulder. “The whole family is waiting.”
He didn’t look back.
Seraphae watched him disappear beneath the archway.
Then she leaned slightly toward Aldric.
“Whatever you do,” she murmured, “don’t let him get under your skin, my love.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s a prick. And a dirtbag.”
Aldric glanced toward the palace entrance.
“I’ve never seen you this angry before,” he said after a moment. “He must have really gotten to you.”
Seraphae kept staring at the shadows beneath the palace gate.
Her voice turned cold.
“That is to put it lightly. That was my ex.” A pause. “He’s the reason I had to leave Nerathys.”