Chapter 20 #2
“It's not necessary.”
Anger flashed across his face. “Everything I do is necessary.”
“Even when you throw me to the demon hordes to be devoured and don’t bother to stand and watch?” Gods, she realized it was partially her fault, but still after the whole ordeal, it was the image of him turning away from her that bothered her the most.
The shadows curled at his feet. “I said before we went out that I wouldn’t do anything that wasn’t necessary. It was you who nearly exposed us.”
She wondered what he meant by exposed. Sucking on his cock, almost bringing him to his knees from pure pleasure, or something else.
With a wave of his hand, the shadows dispersed. He glanced around carefully before holding the vial closer to her. “Now take it.”
“No. You’re a monster. You’re all monsters, and I am only a pawn—”
“Of course you are a pawn,” he snapped. “You’ve known that since the outset. You really think I was going to let you live? Stop being so na?ve, Aryana. You’re smarter than that.”
She bared her teeth. “I should have never made the deal with you.”
“What? Your humans aren’t worth the sacrifice of your life? Perhaps you are right. Perhaps love is weak.”
She shoved his hands away from her. “I won’t take any more of that damn potion.”
“You will take it, or I will return you to the dungeons to be tortured with the rest of them.”
She hated him. How he always had to be right. How he always held the power between them.
He sighed, his head dipping forward. “It's not as if I can walk you to my room all happy, like I’m taking you for a midnight stroll.”
He wanted her in his room? What for? “You can do whatever you wish,” she said. “You’re the demon arch king.”
“I’m only the demon arch king as far as I meet their expectations.”
She scoffed at his excuse.
“You don’t believe me? Then believe the scores. Tigon and Xaphoron got first and second rank. Because of you, we barely scraped by in third place. We were extremely lucky I was able to shred another champion without consequences. Now is not the time to act as if I am the exception.”
“So more potion? More debasement?”
He ran a hand over his hair and moved closer, searching the hall, clearly on edge. “Damn it, do you think I enjoy this? You think I want to see you suffer in this way?”
His outburst caught her off guard.
Her eyes narrowed. “Spare me the act. I know where we stand.”
He stepped back, the annoyance evident in his face. “You’re right. Your choice. Either we fake me being horrible to you tonight so you can stay in my room. Or you can go back to your cell and be tortured. You decide.”
“What makes you certain that potion isn’t torture?” She hated being afraid of him against her will. But facing renewed torment in her cell was a very real prospect. One that left her nauseous at the very thought.
He looked away, his stance softening a little. “I’m sorry. I’ll keep it as brief as I can.”
She took the vial from him. “Everything you do is necessary?”
His gaze bored into hers, causing a spark of warmth in her veins. “Always.”
She gave him a sad smile. “Then let the torture begin.” The liquid tasted like sour grapes flowing past her lips and down her throat.
He retrieved the vial from her and placed it in his pocket. “Listen very carefully, Vampress. You are afraid and you long to escape, and though I may say terrible things, in the end you understand I won’t hurt you, so although you struggle you will remain by my side.”
His commands were growing more elaborate.
She couldn’t tell whether her mind was clearing or unraveling.
All she longed for was to stay next to him, to curl into the darkness that was Zarathos.
Footsteps sounded in the hall and the scent of demons reached her nostrils.
The potion stripped her of her will and her heart pumped rapidly, the fear spreading through her with the speed of ice frost.
He pinned her to the wall. His hands gripped her wrists and yanked them above her head, glaring at her with a wicked grin that spiked her terror higher. “Tonight, Princess, I will have my way with you. I will break you apart into a million pieces.”
She struggled to wrench free from his grasp, tears burning her eyes.
Her heartbeat thundered in her chest like a thousand fists pounding in unison.
It wasn’t the demon before her that stirred her fear.
It was everything. The entire situation pulsed with danger.
She glanced around the dark hallway, where every shadow seemed to promise a new threat.
Trapped in this cursed castle, with death always a breath away.
Xaphoron marched toward them down the hall, his deep red wings were pulled tight against his body and his horns curled back at a sharper angle than Zarathos’s.
His eyes glowed a pale hue, making Aryana yearn to shrink from his sight.
At his side came the other contestant from Kingdom Aeria, the gargoyle with skin the color of granite and menacing fangs protruding from his lower jaw.
There was nowhere to hide.
“More play time with your kalator, Your Majesty?” Xaphoron asked. “I would’ve thought you got your fill of her at the opening ceremony.”
Zarathos released a harsh laugh. “More like the other way around. The opening ceremony was only a prelude. She will get what is coming to her tonight while she is at my mercy.” He dragged a single sharp nail over her cheek, causing her to tremble.
“She certainly is frightened enough of you to arouse anyone’s instincts,” the gargoyle next to Xaphoron said, reaching out to touch her, a ravenousness in his gaze.
Zarathos snatched her against him, jerking her from the demon’s reach. “She’s mine.” He bared his teeth menacingly. “Find your own vampire princess, Balafur, to torment with your pathetically small cock.”
Balafur snarled, but Xaphoron held up a hand. “Soon we’ll be rid of you and we shall have a loyal son of Aeria on the throne. One that rules with the mantle of demons, not some daddy’s boy who can’t even uphold his father’s memory.”
Zarathos stiffened. “At least I don’t make pathetic attacks before the opening ceremony to eliminate the competition.”
Aryana recalled that terrifying day in the woods when they were attacked. Zarathos must believe the attackers were from kingdom Aeria. The consuming feelings inside her only intensified, and her knees grew weak. How she yearned to run and escape this place.
Xaphoron’s pale eyes slitted. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Balafur growled. “We will not listen to accusations from pathetic rulers who hide behind bargains and sexual displays with frail little vampire whores.”
Zarathos dropped her and lunged at Balafur. The two landed on the ground as they struggled. Xaphoron backed up, looking entertained.
Aryana pressed close to the wall, her knees barely holding her up.
If she moved faster, she might get away, but that would only put her at risk from Xaphoron who could actually hurt her.
Tears wetted her cheeks. Damn this place.
If only she could master the fear coursing through her, she might be able to make a plan to help her escape this situation.
“What is going on here?” a voice demanded. A power blasted between Zarathos and the other demon, throwing Balafur against the wall. He gripped a bloody shoulder where the arch king had bitten him.
A slew of demons stood in the hallway. At their head was a female, her hand out. She must have the power of levitation. The others with her were dressed in the red robes and symbols that Marbas had worn. Members of the trial council. The leader took in Zarathos and then Balafur.
More demons? Oh gods, what now? Tall and angry, each one radiated menace. She huddled against the wall, wishing to vanish into the stone.
“Your Majesty, forgive my intrusion.” The leader turned to the gargoyle. “Balafur, what’s the meaning of this? You know it is forbidden to kill other champions outside the trials.”
“Tell that to him. He attacked me, Lady Braxia,” Balafur snarled. “Zarathos is taking the vampire princess to his bedchamber so he can ravage her as he wishes. But he refuses to share.”
“That is his right. She is his kalator. You have your own kalator to do with as you please.” Braxia frowned as she gazed between them. “Save the fighting for the arena.”
“He’s the one who killed a champion during the opening ceremony,” Balafur accused.
“Angry you didn’t think of it first? That little unprecedented stunt granted Zarathos third place.
That being said, it doesn’t mean we will approve of any killing outside the arena.
I hope our future king wouldn’t expect any special treatment on that front.
” She cast a disapproving glance at the arch king.
“If you desire to change who is in charge, Balafar, then do something about it in the trials.” Her nose wrinkled, and she gazed at Aryana.
“Get that bitch out of my sight. She reeks so strongly of fear, she’s bound to set the entire castle into a frenzy. ”
With a final, guttural growl, Zarathos backed off and stalked toward Aryana.
She shook violently, every instinct screaming that she was prey, small, fragile, and completely at their mercy.
These monsters didn’t intend to just kill her, they wanted to break her as they did it, twist her into something unrecognizable.
Zarathos grabbed her and hauled her over his shoulder like she weighed nothing.
Her stomach lurched. Behind them, the rest of the demons stood, their eyes gleaming with hunger.
She writhed against his hold, a whimper escaping her throat as panic clawed its way up her spine.
“Come, my little toy.” Zarathos’s voice was rough and threatening. “I promise to make tonight an experience you will never forget.”
A small hiccuping sob escaped her as he carried her off, stomping down the hallway to his chambers.