Chapter 8
Part Of The Plan
Dinner was… unusual.
Tense.
The moment Aldric and Seraphae entered the dining hall, they both knew something was off.
It was again, family-only dinner.
Seraphae’s sisters were unusually quiet, almost going out of their way to avoid drawing attention to themselves. Goroth looked grumpier than usual, his massive frame slouched in his chair. Even the servants moved more carefully than normal.
And Elathiel was focusing on something else entirely.
The queen kept watching her only son.
Mareth barely spoke. His eyes looked dull, distant. He had hardly touched his food.
The only relaxed person at the table was Evereth.
Aldric wasn’t hungry.
He poured Seraphae a glass of light demon wine and filled his own with water. For now, he preferred to keep his head clear.
Everyone seemed to watch Evereth in silence.
He sat comfortably, carving into a particularly bloody piece of meat. He didn’t even pause his meal as Aldric and Seraphae took their seats.
When Evereth finally cut a thick slice free, he lifted it slightly.
Examining it.
Then his gaze flicked briefly toward Seraphae.
A moment later he tore into it.
Smiling.
Seraphae watched him with open disdain.
“How’s the food?” she asked coolly.
Evereth smiled.
Smug.
“So good.”
Aldric simply observed.
His thoughts drifted again into uneasy territory.
Clearly this noble demon had been invited here for a reason. Perhaps he had arrived with some sort of leverage. Judging by the way everyone behaved, they didn’t want to upset him. And yet Seraphae had mentioned some incident between them long ago…
Then he felt something brush against his leg.
Nimble.
The demon dog had wandered over and pressed his back against Aldric’s calf before sitting down. For some reason, the simple gesture brought Aldric a strange sense of calm.
His hand lowered automatically, scratching the dog around its neck.
Nimble gave a small chirp and began panting contentedly.
Aldric smiled faintly.
Across the table, Evereth wiped his mouth with a napkin, setting it aside with deliberate, perfect manners.
“Your Highness, I’ll give you a few moments to discuss my offer with the rest of the royal family.”
Then he stood.
And left.
The moment the doors closed behind him, Seraphae exhaled sharply.
“Gods, I wish I’d gone for his eyes instead of his face.”
No one said a word.
Then she looked at her father.
“Why did you invite this dirtbag, Dad?”
Goroth sat in silence.
Angry.
Still.
Aldric spoke before the king could answer.
“Evereth wants something in return for his help.”
Goroth grunted in quiet agreement.
He still didn’t look at Seraphae.
She leaned forward.
“Dad?” she pressed. “Why is he here?”
Goroth exhaled slowly.
“Because war is coming. Aldric has met Varntherionir… and you know what that means.”
Seraphae frowned.
“We’ve known that since the night we arrived at the palace. Why is my cheating, lying ex back in the palace?”
Aldric felt his stomach tighten.
He cheated on her… and lied about it…okay—
And she went after his face and neck…
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
That’s my girl.
Seraphae looked ready to murder someone.
Goroth finally spoke again.
“He is here because the landscape has changed. Evereth has managed to gather nearly every clan and smaller kingdom under his banner.” He leaned back slightly. “So unless we form some kind of pact, this entire realm will be torn apart by internal conflict.”
Seraphae shrugged.
“Dad. You live for this. You’d happily march out and fight anyone who opposes—”
“Not now, Saphie,” Goroth interrupted. His voice was firm. “Now we must be ready. Fighting enemies both inside and outside our borders at the same time would be… difficult.”
“Dad, you don’t know that.” Goroth let out a hollow laugh. “I’m not taking any chances.”
He looked around the table.
“At least not now that I have something to lose.”
His gaze settled on his family.
Elathiel squeezed his massive hand, holding back tears.
The sisters were quiet, visibly moved.
Even Seraphae looked surprised.
For a moment, the anger in her expression softened.
Aldric broke the silence.
“What does he want in return?”
Goroth exhaled slowly.
“He wants to become part of our family.”
The meaning hung in the air.
Everyone understood.
Aldric said what they were all thinking.
“He wants to marry one of your daughters.”
Goroth shook his head.
“No.”
He finally looked at Seraphae.
His eyes were heavy.
Almost apologetic.
“Not just any daughter.”
Seraphae’s hand began to tremble slightly.
Silence filled the room.
Then she spoke.
“I’m never marrying that liar and scumbag,” she said coldly. “I’ll slit his throat before he even gets close.”
The words hung in the air.
And then—
The room shifted.
Conversation stopped.
Movements slowed.
Almost theatrically.
Aldric was stunned for a moment but said nothing.
The king gave him a brief, deliberate look — head tilted slightly, eyes fixed on him.
Play along.
Seraphae’s sisters immediately filled the silence.
“Oh Saphie,” Vaeris sighed dramatically, “you could never murder that demon.”
Seraphae looked at them.
Then at her father.
A slow smile spread across her face.
She rose halfway from her chair and declared loudly,
“Dad! How could you do this to me? I thought I could trust you—”
Goroth nodded in approval.
Then he looked at Aldric.
Aldric understood.
“My king,” he said carefully, “I do not believe I would be able to contest this arrangement. I have not yet completed my brand. Without it, I could never challenge a demon of such high status.”
Aldric glanced around the table.
Every member of the royal family gave the faintest nod.
Seraphae squeezed his leg beneath the table and smirked.
Moments later, the doors opened.
The perfume reached Aldric before the demon himself did.
Heavy and suffocating.
Everyone’s expression shifted instantly back to somber resignation.
Evereth entered the chamber with two armed men behind him.
“I heard lamenting and raised voices,” he said lightly. “Is everything in order?”
His eyes rested on Seraphae.
There was murder in hers.
She didn’t speak.
He looked at Goroth.
“What do you say then, King?”
Aldric felt anger surge through him.
Red crept into the edges of his vision.
He forced himself to breathe.
Slow.
Controlled.
Something nudged his leg.
Nimble.
The dog bumped him with his snout as if anchoring him to the moment.
Aldric looked down.
The creature gave an exaggerated pant.
Goroth finally spoke.
“I cannot force my daughter.”
Seraphae rose from her chair.
She walked directly toward Evereth.
Then she said quietly,
“I’m only doing this for the good of demonkind. If you touch me, I will gouge out your eyes.”
Evereth smiled.
Smug.
“In time you’ll warm up to me my Ice Queen. I’m surprised this went so smoothly. And that you’re willing to leave your knight just like that.”
Seraphae didn’t even look at Aldric.
“He understands his place. He’s unbranded.”
Evereth’s gaze slid toward Aldric.
“Ah. Of course.” His smile widened. “A pity. I was hoping the famous knight might object.”
He tilted his head.
“But if the princess herself says he is irrelevant…”
For some reason…
That hit Aldric harder than anything else.
Aldric’s eyes moved across the table.
Mareth didn’t look surprised.
The sisters looked down.
Even Goroth’s jaw remained steady.
This is an act.
The whole thing.
It’s not real.
And yet…
And yet he was the only one reacting.
The only one whose blood was boiling.
Aldric stood slowly.
The chair scraped against the stone.
No one stopped him.
Not even Seraphae.
He was already moving, walking toward his chamber.
The rage was there.
He could barely keep it together.
Left in the dark.
Again.
Always.
And then the images came.
Seraphae.
That dress.
The one that hugged her hips in that way he loved.
Walking beside Evereth.
Close.
Too close.
Fucking games.
He felt it.
Heat.
Lightheadedness.
Something shifting inside him.
This time the world didn’t blur.
No.
It sharpened.
The edges of his vision darkened.
Red crept slowly into his vision.
Something stirred in his chest.
Something dark.
Something that almost—
enjoyed this.
The rage.
Evereth’s smug face flashed in his mind.
Aldric’s lip curled.
He could already imagine it.
Tearing those golden horns off.
Driving one straight through that smug jaw.
Making the bastard choke on it.
Tearing those wings off.
Slowly.
His chamber door slammed shut behind him.
He began pacing.
Back and forth.
Again.
And again.
Nothing helped.
Not breathing.
Not logic.
Not cold water on his face.
He was still in it.
Still trapped in the rage.
The entire scene replayed in his head.
Every look.
Every word.
Every knowing nod around the table.
Fine.
Perfect.
You all want to play your little games.
Do it without me.
I’m done with this.
I’m done trying to belong here.
Trying to play along.
Trying to be patient.
Trying to trust.
And still—
just another tool.
Gods fucking damn it.
His fists clenched.
His jaw locked.
The red in his vision deepened.
Then—
a soft sound.
The door opened.
White hair.
Golden eyes.
A smile.
“Hi.” She wrinkled her nose and gave him a quick, conspiratorial wink.“It worked.”
Aldric didn’t move.
His fists were still clenched.
Seraphae stepped inside and closed the door behind her, the smile still lingering, but softer now, more cautious as she took in his rigid posture.
“They signed the pact. Evereth pushed hard. He thought he’d forced Father into a corner.”
Her lips curved slightly.
“He wanted to celebrate. Suggested a private drink. Just the two of us.”
Aldric’s jaw tightened.
She noticed.
“So I agreed,” she said lightly. “Led him to one of the lower lounges. The quiet ones. He was very pleased with himself.”
Her golden eyes flickered.
“He didn’t notice when Father’s guards sealed the exits.”
She tilted her head slightly.
“He’s… having a conversation with my dad now.”
“And the pact?” Aldric asked, voice low.
“Binding. Even if he never walks out of that room, it stands. My dad has aligned all the major demon factions with us.”
The tension in his shoulders remained.
He looked at her.
There was something cold in his gaze now.