Chapter Nineteen
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Theo
I check on Val, keeping my head bowed and not daring to raise my gaze until granted permission by my father. She continues to clutch her dagger as though she’ll take on the entire demon court.
Gods, what a mate.
If I could take her away from here right now without risking the king’s wrath, I would. Instead, I wrap my tail around her wrist in a gentle hold. Her startled glance my way along with a sharp inhale has me less worried she’ll stab my father and more certain she’ll turn the blade on me. When she lowers the dagger, its ruby pommel glinting in the firelight, I hug her more tightly with my wing in appreciation of her acquiescence, however short-lived it might be.
She’s a vision from her knockout beauty to how she wears the dress I picked for her to the way her skin flushes and her chest rises from the exertion of an almost battle.
Fuck, I hurt everywhere. Blue blood smears across my skin from reopened wounds and new ones. With the way my father loves a dramatic entrance, he probably planned the attack. Or at least prompted some suggestions to the family members most likely to turn a mandatory summons into an all-out war. He certainly factored in the spectacle it would make, especially with his death threat following so soon afterward.
Of course someone in our family needs to die. If the asshole responsible for opening unauthorized portals would come forward, I could execute him and get on with other priorities. Like convincing my mate to let me finish what she’d been so receptive to when I’d helped her dress earlier. I can still feel her softness under my claws, scent her sweet arousal, imagine the taste I’d denied myself. Soon .
“You may rise,” Father calls as though remembering he has the rest of the court on their knees or bellies or whatever appendage their fealty and forms require them to be. I would be kneeling as well except there are privileges to being the crown prince.
He moves to take his seat on the throne, and I lead Val closer. She can’t join royalty on the dais—not yet anyway—and I don’t dare leave her alone even with Montejanus here. I have no idea how we’ll explain the soul guardian’s presence to my father.
She shoots me a look of what the fuck , but thankfully, she stays silent when I shake my head.
I wait for my father to give the reason he summoned us, hoping he hasn’t joined forces with my mother in the insane delusion she has about Val being unworthy.
The Fates themselves chose Val.
She’s divinely selected.
Whatever deal my mother struck with Bonettis must be unraveling for them to want to renegotiate. But how does keeping Val from becoming my mate figure into that? How would preventing me from gaining the magic I need to rule someday do anything but hurt the kingdom?
“I’ve called you all here tonight for one reason.” Father’s voice booms across the throne room. “It has come to my attention that my successor has become distracted by a human he alleges is his mate.”
I stiffen, every muscle in my body tensing. His tone implies this will be a public torture session with me as the recipient instead of the enforcer. I’ve lived through this before, but I don’t want Val to witness it. I pray to the gods he’ll let me teleport her back before he begins.
My father keeps going. “Which means I have to intercede for the good of the kingdom. One of you here has betrayed me.”
A nervous rustling of wings and clacking of claws disturbs a quiet punctuated only by the crackling of brimstone flames.
My father holds their attention, their fears, their lives in his grip. “Someone has allowed their blood to open portals between worlds without my consent. Only royal blood unlocks portals. Only our blood. Which means the villain must be one of you. My son and my oldest daughter have failed to discover the culprit.”
Shame burns the breath from my lungs.
His gaze locks on me. “Their failure could lead to the downfall of the kingdom. See how my son allows this soul guardian, this terror of our kind, into our throne room. Such disrespect proves how preoccupied he has become. Therefore, I’m announcing a competition.”
Dread chases the embarrassment, and I want to beg him to stop whatever production he’s planning. No good can come from pitting demon royals against one another for any prize, no matter how slight.
“For the crown,” he says.
No . He wouldn’t. The kingdom isn’t a trophy to be won in some stupid contest. A ruler needs to train for decades. As I have. As he has trained me.
My father lifts his chin, his massive horns throwing shadows along the floor to impale my own—as his words have done. “Whoever takes the traitor’s head will win the throne.”
Shouts go up around me, the roar dull in my ears. Even the flames shine dimmer in my darkened vision. The thickness in my throat threatens to swallow my hopes along with the bile coating my tongue.
I’ve lost everything .
I don’t realize I must’ve spoken the words aloud until Val takes my hand. How can she stand to touch me now? After all I’ve put her through, and it was for nothing.
My father lifts his claws, quietening the throne room. “The contest begins as soon as the last of you leaves. Since I’ve painted a target on every royal’s back, I suggest you act quickly. You’re dismissed.”
Val squeezes my hand and looks up at me with worry in her beautiful eyes, strength in her slender fingers, and Montejanus at her side. “Let’s go,” she says.
But I can’t move. This isn’t happening. It can’t be real. The possibility that I’ve been stripped of the only thing I’ve lived for? In a matter of seconds? It seems ridiculous. Because, if it’s true, what reason do I have to keep going?
“Theo.” Val yanks me closer, and I’m not surprised to see her other hand clutching her dagger. “It’s not safe here.” I stare at her, watching her mouth form the words and still not fully understanding. “ I’m not safe.”
That I understand. My mate’s safety comes before all else. Wrapping her and her soul guardian within my wings, I teleport us back to the suite, attempting again to make the trip as painless as possible for my human. It worked on the way to the Infernal Palace, on the journey to giving up my power.
In the suite, I invoke extra protection wards spelled by Ora and others. Once that’s done, what little energy I had abandons me.
“Come on,” Val urges. “A hot shower helps make everything better.”
My mate’s obsession with cleanliness almost has me smiling. Almost. But I hurt too much. The physical pain of my body is nothing compared to the agony of my pride, my ambitions, my heart.
I let her boss me into downing a healing potion and cleaning up, no matter how badly my cuts sting beneath the water. There’s only so much a simple spell can mend. Sure, the brew can patch the worst of my wounds, but no magic can undo what my father has done.
When I walk out of the bedroom, there’s no sign of Val.
Panic crawls through me.
Has someone breached the wards? Has my family already come to kill me? I almost unfurl my wings and go in search of her when I hear the faint purring.
“Such a good boy,” she croons, and despite my despair, my cocks rise in response.
I round the kitchen counter to find Val sitting on the floor, leaning against the cabinets with her wet hair clipped atop her head. Montejanus crouches next to her in mongoose form, his tail draped over her ankle. He noisily chomps through a dish of nuts, berries, and I don’t want to know what else.
Val spoons ice cream from a pint I don’t recognize from Shadowvale’s weekly stocking. She gives a little moan around the bite that has my blood heating. She’s fresh faced, dressed in black leggings and a slouchy shirt, barefoot and perfect.
The scene is incredibly domestic and cute and completely at odds with what I’ve wanted my entire life, yet right now, I crave the comfort I might have with a fated mate. With Val.
Both she and her soul guardian yank their gazes up to me as if I’m intruding.
“I’ll leave if I’m interrupting,” I say. But I really wish she’d let me stay.
She opens her eyes, the blue making me think of summer skies and tropical oceans where I’d love to watch the sunlight play over her skin and the blonde streaks in her brown hair while I kiss her, taste her, love her. Love her . Where the hell did that come from?
“I’m not sharing my butter pecan.” Her warning comes around a mouthful of creamy sweetness as I’m fighting the sudden stone of emotions in my chest cutting off my air. I can’t love her. Not now. Not when I have nothing to offer her. Not when a kingdom is at stake.
“Theo?” Her voice cuts off my spiral. “You can ask the castle for another pint if it’s gonna stress you out that much.” She drops the spoon into the container with a clunk. “Did I steal this from someone’s home by asking Shadowvale for it?”
The simple question snaps me out of bigger concerns for a moment. “No, I have an account with a human supplier for supernaturals. They take care of the standard orders although I’m assuming they didn’t have the rocket launcher in stock.”
“A girl orders one rocket launcher, and she never lives it down. I get no respect, right, Monty?” She glances to the mongoose who sits on his haunches with a nut between his front paws, bobbing his head as if in agreement. “Cut me some slack. I didn’t even put the missile thing together, let alone blast anything into bits.”
Her banter and wit? It’s exactly what I need. “Can I join you if I don’t touch the…what did you call it, bitter peanut?”
She rolls her eyes to glare up at me from the floor. “You know that’s not what I said.”
“Either sounds awful.”
“Don’t knock it ‘til you try it.” She digs in for another bite, patting the tile floor next to her. “Shadowvale cleaned ‘til it squeaks. Join us. Still not sharing my butter pecan.”
“Wouldn’t dream of asking.” I furl my wings tight and move to sit, and damn, my body hurts. Every ache and slash pulls at my skin and my ribs scream in protest. I manage not to hiss, but a grunt escapes before my ass hits the hard floor.
Why couldn’t my mate get comfortable on the plush couch or come to bed? My brain immediately supplies the answer—because she’s Val, and her casual coolness makes her the antithesis to my ambitious intensity. Or the ambition I had before my father yanked the kingdom away…on what? A whim?
“You don’t look so good,” she says.
“You look amazing.” I manage the words around my clenched jaw because fuck , my body isn’t taking the latest battering well when I’d barely recovered from the last few fights.
“Liar. I washed away all the hard work Nic’s glamazon team did.”
“You know you’re gorgeous without it. You’re flawless just as you are.” I close my eyes and concentrate on pushing past the pain to enjoy the win of having my mate still agreeing to let me near her after I’ve been shamed so publicly.
If I’m not a crown prince, who am I? I can’t keep her. Not without a throne and the privilege and riches that come with it to entice her to stay. Hell, I’m the monster who tricked her and kidnapped her. I’m probably scaring her right now in my demon form. I try to slide into my human glamour, a negligible use of magic, but it flickers.
“Hey.” She brushes her fingertips over my wing, and I want to lean into the touch, to let her stroke and pet me as she does Montejanus. “You don’t need to change for me.”
I sigh, and some of the tightness in my chest unwinds, only to coil into another knot as soon as I remember my father’s words. “I’ll let you go the moment it’s safe to do so. I promise.”
“What about us being fated mates?”
“We forever will be,” I admit. “But without the throne, I have nothing to offer you. I’ve basically broken my end of our demon deal.”
“And the deal’s all that matters?”
“For once in my long life, it means nothing.” The weight of the truth presses down on my pain to make it unbearable. “Not when I have to let you go.” I don’t open my eyes because I can’t stand to see the relief on her face.
Silence stretches between us—the kind that sucks all hope from the room.
Earlier tonight, I had it all. A fated mate, a way to power up my magic, the promise of a better future for the kingdom.
Now? I’ve a broken body, a family gunning for me, and barely enough magic to keep Val safe until this ends in whatever brutal, bitter way it might play out.
So imagine my shock when the most beautiful woman in the world touches my cheek, nudging my face toward hers. I open my eyes to find her studying my horns, my monstrous red eyes, my scars, and I wait for whatever end is coming.
She licks her lips, a final blow to my ego in what I missed by not claiming a kiss earlier. Her gaze locks on mine. “What if I choose to stay?”