Chapter Four
Daemon
Despite the ache that settled into his soul the moment he walked away from Auraelia— again—warmth filled his chest as they pulled away from Lyndaria’s harbor.
A smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and hope filled him. Hope that they were on their way past this. Hope that the connection they’d rekindled in that dark office of the brothel was enough to bring her back to him.
The warmth in his chest turned to a gentle, yet firm, tug. It was a feeling he hadn’t had in months and something he hadn’t fully realized was there until it was gone.
The pendant.
He’d felt it the moment she’d taken it off all those months ago. It was like a light had been dimmed, casting his world in a bleak shade of gray, and his shadows had shuttered at the feeling. Like they, too, knew that she’d cut herself off from him.
But now? Warmth filled his body, and shadows purred beneath his skin.
It wasn’t long before the familiar feeling of magic twisted along his arm before dissipating into his pocket.
Daemon slipped his hand into the silk lining of his vest pocket and ran his fingers over the rough texture of the parchment and the warmth that still lingered on the wax seal.
Only, it wasn’t the usual thinly folded letter.
This one was bulging on the sides, and it was like a stone weighing down his pocket.
A stone…
“Fuck,” Daemon muttered beneath his breath.
Grasping the letter in his fist, he pushed away from the rail and headed toward his cabin below.
Men scurried around the deck, shouting commands and acknowledging them, throwing lines and moving supplies, but all of that faded into the background as the letter in his pocket grew heavier and heavier.
Below deck, he slammed the door.
Running his hands through his already messy hair, Daemon sank down onto his bed and pulled the offending parchment from his pocket.
It lacked her usual finesse.
There was no sprig of lavender.
The seal was done haphazardly and warped around the odd shape of the bundle in his hand.
Taking a quavering breath, Daemon pried open the letter and gently pulled apart the folds. There, nestled in the middle, was the pendant he’d given her. His shadows, once swirls of living darkness in its center, sat stagnant and lifeless.
He lifted the stone and saw that beneath it, written in shaky script, were two words that would haunt him for the rest of his days.
I’m sorry.
Daemon balled up the paper and hurled it across the small space.
Pushing his fingers through his hair, he pulled at the roots. Needing physical pain to drown out the anguish in his chest.
How could she do this? How could she give up so easily?
He began to rock as pain bled into anger. His shadows began to seep out of him, filling the space around him until the entire ship was encompassed in the darkness that shrouded his soul.
It took a full day and part of the following night to make it back to Kalmeera.
Daemon’s fit of magic inhibited Raneese from seeing where she was going, and they had to stop until he was able to pull back his shadows.
Finally back at the castle, Daemon slammed the door to his suite as he crossed the room to the bar cart nestled between his floor-to-ceiling windows. It was late, and he was tired but needed a drink.
Pouring himself a glass of whiskey, he downed the contents, then rested his hands on the cold glass top.
“Rough night?” The cool, sultry voice that filled the quiet of the room made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.
“What the fuck are you doing in my chambers?” Daemon ground out through clenched teeth. Standing up straight, he turned toward the offending sound.
His drapes still hung open, letting in the soft light of the moon, and there, stretched out on his couch with her long snow-white hair draped over the arm, was Davina, her lips tilting up into a sly smile that reminded him a little too much of Auraelia.
The family resemblance was eerie.
Their features were almost twin-like, the only outstanding differences coming from the color of their hair and the fact that Auraelia’s skin was kissed by the sun, whereas Davina’s was bathed by the moon.
They were the embodiment of night and day.
“I asked you a question, Davina. What are you doing in my chambers?” Daemon’s hands balled into fists at his side, turning his knuckles white.
With a roll of her eyes, Davina sat up from her lounging position and propped her feet onto the low table. “Why, waiting for you, my love.”
Her tone was sickly sweet, and it made Daemon’s skin crawl. “Oh, cut the crap. What do you want?”
“Where were you?” Her smile still sat firmly in place, but the slight tilt of her head suggested that she already knew.
“I don’t need to explain myself to you,” Daemon spat before turning back toward the bar and pouring himself another drink.
“Now, now—” she tsked, “there’s no need to be rude. Maybe I should just go ask my cousin if she knows what you’ve been up to.” Her statement was followed by a thud.
He only took half a turn to see what she’d tossed onto the table.
Months of correspondence with Auraelia sat at Davina’s feet.
Months of personal information. Of hopes and dreams. Of love.
“Where did you get those?” he asked.
Davina pulled her feet from the table, her smile dropping a little as she looked at him. “I think I have a right to know where my fiancé is spending his time—and with whom.”
“I’m not—”
“Don’t even think about finishing that statement, Daemon. Or do I need to remind you of what happened the last time?”
Memories of the icy claws she’d dug into his heart and the frigid temperature that ran through his veins had his skin pebbling.
“Now, why don’t you be decent. Pour me a drink, and we can talk.”
Tonguing a canine, Daemon reluctantly grabbed two glasses and the decanter and brought it over to the sitting area of his study.
After downing his glass, he rested his arms on his thighs and glared through his lashes. “What do you want to talk about?”
Davina took an easy sip, then leaned back against the couch. “I want you to tell me about my cousin. I want to know her strengths and her weaknesses. You were once, quite possibly, one of her greatest weaknesses. The letters—” she gestured to the pile on the table, “prove that.”
“Why do you think that’s now past tense?” Daemon lifted a questioning brow before taking another sip.
“If you were where I suspect you were, your demeanor proves that she nipped whatever you had in the bud. So, I need all her dirty little secrets—well, not dirty secrets. I got my fill of those in your letters. Thank you very much.”
Hearing Davina casually dismiss his relationship with Auraelia was a red-hot dagger to his heart.
He knew that Auraelia had given up. He understood why…
to an extent. And yet, hearing the finality come from someone who had no idea what was going on between them—hell, he wasn’t even sure what was going on—hurt.
I need another fucking drink.
Daemon refilled his tumbler and downed the contents. Then he poured another and downed that one, too.
Davina watched with unveiled amusement, her feet crossed at the ankle as she sipped slowly from the crystal tumbler.
Hours passed, and Daemon continued to drink. He’d finished off the decanter of whiskey, all while Davina nursed her single glass and then moved on to a bottle of wine while they passed the time in relative silence.
Occasionally she would prod him for information about Auraelia, but it stopped when he’d begun peppering her with questions about Garnet.
After that, she’d sat comfortably on his couch while he nearly drank himself into a stupor.
Daemon’s arms were heavy as he attempted to pour himself yet another glass of wine.
He wasn’t sure when it had happened, but Davina was suddenly in front of him.
“I think you’ve had enough,” she whispered as she moved the bottle and glass out of reach and gently pushed him back until he sat upright.
Daemon slumped down into the chair. He tried to keep his gaze on Davina, but his eyes were heavy as exhaustion mixed with the alcohol in his system.
“Poor, poor, Daemon,” she cooed as she slowly ran her hands up his thighs.
Slate-blue eyes stared up through pale lashes, and through his inebriated state, he could almost pretend that they belonged to Auraelia…almost.
Daemon squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, trying to shake the fog from his mind.
“I could make you feel good, you know. Make you forget.” Davina’s whispers ghosted across his ear as she slowly slid into his lap. His knuckles whitened as his grip tightened on the arms of the chair.
Get it together, Daemon.
Davina’s legs settled in on either side of his own.
“Why are you doing this? Surely you know about the treaty,” he whispered, surprised that he was able to make a coherent sentence.
The heat of her body pressed into him as she lowered her lips to his. But a moment before they touched, she replied, “The treaty was voided the moment your father sided with me.”
Daemon stood abruptly, toppling Davina to the floor.
Laughter filled the otherwise quiet space as he shoved away from the chair on surprisingly steady feet.
“You hadn’t figured that out yet, had you?” she asked through her laughter.
Daemon whipped around a little too quickly and staggered. “You’re lying.”
Davina stood and brushed off her pants. Her feline smile was firmly in place as she stared at him. “No, my sweet, I’m not. The moment your father sided with me; he was working against her. Which broke the treaty.” Her smile twisted into a sneer at the mention of Auraelia.
Daemon stood wide-eyed as his thoughts spiraled.
We can be together.
The treaty doesn’t matter anymore.
I need to tell Auraelia.
“Now, before you get a stupid idea of running off to tell my cousin. Let me remind you of one…little…thing.”
His blood began to chill, and his heartbeat slowed as Davina took calculated steps toward him.
“I can and will demolish all that you love and care about if you cross me. Your people, family, friends. And even though Auraelia seems to have pushed you aside, the quickening of your heart when you found out about the treaty tells me that you have not. I will break her in front of you. Make you watch while I slow her heartbeat to a crawl and freeze her from the inside out.” She accentuated her threat by doing the same to him.
“Do I make myself clear?” she asked when she was standing before him.
The once slate-blue eyes that stared back at him were now the color of garnets. The same color of the very blood that she was able to manipulate.
Daemon managed a nod through the pain, and the next instant, it was gone.
“Good.” Davina patted his chest as she sidestepped him and headed toward the door.
As she pulled it open, she looked over her shoulder at him, a Cheshire smile plastered on her face. “I think this is the start of a beautiful relationship.”
The door latched behind her, and Daemon had the strong urge to purge the contents of his stomach.
Rushing to his desk, he pulled out a piece of parchment to pen Auraelia a letter.
He needed to let her know what he’d discovered.
But as he began to write, he remembered the sapphire in his pocket, its weight growing heavier with every passing moment.
Fuck.