CHAPTER TEN
Drak
Blood poured out of my ears, nose, and the corners of my eyes.
My brain was mush, and my heart felt like it’d been ripped clean from my chest with the sharp claws of that beast that came after us on our first night in Hell.
Omaera sat on the floor across from me as I writhed in agony, tears streaming down her face.
“Please, let me stop,” she sobbed. “I’m going to kill him.”
“He’ll let you know when he’s had enough,” Kenvin said with a flat voice, sitting where he was when we first joined him in his training room. We’d been in there for hours, running through all kinds of different techniques, simulations, and possible scenarios. When she slid into my mind and uncovered my weaknesses, I thought that was the post painful thing I would ever endure.
I was dead wrong.
This was the most pain I’d ever experienced in my life. The pain of seeing her in such agony because she was hurting me.
I could take the torture. I’d been tortured far worse in my three hundred and forty-one years. I would recover—in time.
It was seeing how hurting me affected her that brought me unimaginable pain. But she needed to learn. She needed to train, and since she’d bonded with the bear, she couldn’t use him to practice on; and she’d already tortured the mage to within an inch of his life. Now it was my turn.
“Tap out,” she whimpered, fresh tears sprinting down her reddened cheeks as she stabbed my brain with another hot poker. Or at least that was the sensation she conjured within my mind.
I screamed out from the hot, searing pain. Then I moaned, rolled over to my side, and vomited.
“I can’t!” She stood up and the pain instantly stopped. The ringing in my ears was gone, and I could see clearly once more.
She spun around and directed her anger at Kenvin, spread her hands wide, and summoned a bright red flickering ball of energy between her palms. Her eyes glowed an emerald-green, and she bared her teeth like an animal.
“You’re doing this on purpose. You want me to hurt them. This is all a game to you, isn’t it? You never wanted to help me.” Rolling the ball around between her hands, it grew in size until it was larger than a basketball, pulsing and flickering. It wasn’t flames she held, it was pure energy.
I’d never seen anything like it in my life, and by the look of wide-eyed shock on Kenvin’s face, neither had he. “You need to practice, Omaera,” he said calmly, though I could smell the stress sweat developing on him. “You need to learn how to control your powers. I know you don’t want to hurt them, but they’re the only other people here you can trust.”
Pushing myself up to a sitting position, I inched over toward her. I couldn’t stand yet, but I rested my hand on her foot and she glanced down at me, the mask of fury on her face softening slightly. The energy ball shrunk a little too. “It’s okay, Omaera. I can take it. He’s right. You need to practice.”
Fat tears welled up in her eyes, then tumbled down her flushed cheeks. “I don’t want to hurt you.” She glanced at the other two. “I don’t want to hurt any of you. You’re …” she swallowed, “you’re all I have.”
“Maybe we should call it for the day?” Maxar suggested from the sidelines, a bloody rag in his hand from where he’d mopped up his own mess from his eyes, nose, and ears. Even though mages could put up shields against demons, Kenvin specifically asked Maxar not to so that Omaera had more than just me to practice on. “This has been a lot for the first day of training.”
Kenvin sighed, flicked his gaze to me, then to Omaera, and finally nodded. “Fine. Tomorrow we’ll start with weaponry. But we still need to work on things. I had to put up some incredibly strong shields to block you from slicing into my brain. Your anger is what fuels your power at the moment, and that’s not safe. For anybody.” He stood up and approached Omaera, resting a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Rest tonight, Your Majesty. There is a fourth room if you should choose to sleep alone.” He cast a quick glance at Zandren, then shuffled off out the shoji doors, but not before calling, “Dinner will be barbecued magsith. Go shower and I’ll see you all in an hour.”
Maxar peeled himself up from the floor. So did Zandren. Neither of them offered me a helping hand up, but then again, I’m not sure I would have accepted it if they did. We tolerated each other. We co-existed because we had to. Not because we wanted to. Not because we liked each other.
I’m sure over time—maybe a century or two—that toleration would turn into apathy or general disinterest, but I wasn’t holding my breath.
“What do you want to do, Little One?” Zandren asked, approaching her and wiping tears from her cheeks with his club thumbs.
“I just want a shower,” she said with a deep sigh, her shoulders rounding. “I can’t think past that. I know what you guys have endured—” she glanced at Maxar and myself, “is excruciating and exhausting, but enacting that kind of torture and mindfuckery is draining as well.” She focused back on Zandren. “I can’t think past that. I’m sorry.”
“No need to apologize.”
“You go shower first. I need to just collect my thoughts. Okay?”
Zandren and Maxar both nodded, then trudged out of the training room. That left my mate and me. She offered me a hand, and I took it, allowing her to heave me to my feet.
“Do you need to feed?” she asked, lifting her arm, ready to give me her wrist.
I shook my head, my jaw tensing as I took in her blotchy skin and the dark circles beneath her eyes. The fact that she was so readily willing to allow me to feed from her hit me harder than expected. I probably did need to, but the last thing I wanted was to take anything more from her. She was exhausted and so sad.
“I’m really sorry, Drak,” she whispered, releasing my hand. “You didn’t tap out. Why didn’t you tap out?”
That brought a half-smirk to my blood-crusted lips. “I’ve been tortured far worse than that in my life. I was okay. I will heal from this.” Besides, the torture she delivered was nothing compared to the torture of seeing her so upset.
She closed her eyes. “I know you’re keeping something from me.”
I jerked a little, a rush of heat filling my chest, but I was quick at steeling my reaction. Luckily, her eyes were still closed.
“I wish you weren’t,” she went on, opening her eyes and hitting me with that green fire in her gaze. “I hope you’ll tell me when you’re ready.” Her bottom lip trembled a little, and she swallowed, pulling in a rattled breath through her nose. “I’m also trying to give you some grace right now because of what happened. Your king, your cousin, your family betrayed you and tried to have you killed.”
“They tried to have you killed as well,” I said, quickly changing the subject.
But she shook her head. “No, actually, they didn’t. Nobody came after me. Not one vampire in that ambush touched me.”
I furrowed my brow, scanning her face, seeking an answer I knew I wouldn’t find. That didn’t make sense. If Howar was working with Lerris, wouldn’t it make sense to kill Omaera? To take her out?
“Yeah, I thought it was strange too.” She buried her top teeth into her bottom lip to help keep her emotions in check. Then she shook her head and waved her hand in dismissal. “Anyway, we can dissect that another day. I just want you to know that I’m sorry for what you’re feeling and what you’re going through. You’ve been quiet …” she wrinkled her nose in a cute way, “quiet- er, since we went through the portal, and I’m guessing it’s because you’re processing. We all process and grieve differently.”
“I’m not grieving.” I instantly regretted my sharp tone.
But she didn’t snap at me like she may have a week ago. All she did was give me a sad smile .
Honestly, that might have been worse. I’d rather spar with her and feel her fire than have her feel sorry for me.
She pitied me. And I absolutely did not want her pity.
I didn’t want anybody’s pity.
So what if my king and cousin betrayed me? Big deal. It wasn’t the first time I discovered my family was made up of disloyal charlatans. I went through the same thing with my father, and I survived. I would survive this too.
“Okay,” was all she said. “Call it whatever you want. Grieving, processing, coming to terms. Whatever.” Then she shocked me more than ever and wrapped her arms around my neck, pressed her body against mine, and hugged me.
It was impossible not to melt my sad sack of a body into her soft embrace. I normally didn’t like the heat, but the warmth radiating off my mate’s body was like sitting in front of a hearth in the dead of winter—homey and inviting. It was safe, and I never wanted to leave.
Tell her about the Mate’s Ache.
She held me for a lot longer than I thought she would, and I just continued to relax into her, closing my eyes and allowing my mangled brain to begin healing. Even though we weren’t mate-bonded yet, just her touch, just her closeness and kindness, had all kinds of healing powers.
“We’ll get Howar,” she whispered, her cheek against my chest. “We’ll get him and Lerris, and make them pay. I promise.”
I didn’t say anything, but I held her tight, fighting the thick lump of emotion that snagged at the back of my throat.
“Are you sure you don’t need to feed?” she asked, breaking our embrace and stepping away from me a little. “You look like shit.”
That prompted a surprising chuckle from the depths of my chest. “Thanks.”
“Is that sarcasm from the great and stoic Lord Drak von Fancypants?”
I snorted and chuckled again. “I suppose it is. And it’s Lord Drak Alpera Gregorio St. Pictor Ferrin.”
Her eyes bugged out. “Dear god, even your name is pretentious.”
I chuckled even more, but that caused me pain and I must have winced.
Growling, she held her wrist up to me, adopting the cutest little stern expression and stance. “By order of Your Queen, I demand you feed. I will not take no for an answer. Otherwise, I will have you beheaded.”
Rolling my eyes, I smirked.
“I’m not kidding. I’ll call Maxar right now and have him conjure one of those fancy flame-swords. Or …” she glanced over at her family sword laying on the table. “I’ll just use the big one Lerris tried to behead me with. The Mongolian Sacrifice or whatever.” She waggled her hand in front of me.
“Moloch’s Sacrifice.”
She grinned like a cheeky little thing. She said it wrong on purpose. Her gaze narrowed in determination, and she wiggled her hand again. “Come on, Lord Fangs Alpera St. Pretentious Gregory Ferrin Bloodula, or whatever the fuck your name is. You know you want this delicious, delicious hemoglobin.”
Gently, I wrapped my fingers around her wrist. “It’s Lord Drak Alpera Gregorio St. Pictor Ferrin.” Then I dropped my fangs and carefully made a single, barely noticeable puncture in her wrist with one of them.
“That’s what I said.”
A small drop of crimson appeared on her naturally tanned skin, pooling. My nostrils flared as the scent wafted up, and my belly stirred with hunger and need.
“Go on,” she encouraged. “Don’t waste it.”
Shifting my gaze to hers once more, and keeping it there, I dropped my mouth to her inner wrist and began to feed.
“That’s a good Fangsy,” she teased, smiling at me. Her eyes were still red rimmed, and dry, salty tear tracks marred her otherwise perfect skin down her cheeks.
As soon as the blood fell across my tongue and slid down my throat, I could feel my brain begin to mend itself. My headache receded to nothing more than a dull ache, and the ringing in my ears disappeared, and the dull, perpetual throb of the Mate’s Ache receded to almost nothing. Not to mention, she tasted delicious.
Her eyelids slid down to half-mast as she watched me, her fatigue creeping up on her with the sudden blood loss. I wouldn’t take much more. By morning, I would be fine again. I just needed sleep to heal. Feeding off her would expedite things, as well as bring us closer.
She wasn’t ready to mate-bond with me, but we seemed to be finding a common ground—even though hers might be rooted in pity for me, which I didn’t like.
“I never did thank you for not straight up killing Zandren when he attacked you at the warehouse,” she said, her voice soft and tired. “You could have, but instead, you just injected him with a paralytic. Thank you.”
I closed my eyes and nodded. I would have very much liked to kill the big, dumb bear, but I knew she would never forgive me. I also knew that he was under mind manipulation from Lerris and didn’t want to kill me. It wasn’t a fair fight.
“Are you feeling better?” she asked, wobbling a little where she stood.
Uh-oh.
As good as it felt, and as much as I enjoyed the taste of her, I needed to stop.
I made a noise of agreement in my throat and quickly swept my tongue across her puncture hole to seal it, releasing her wrist. Almost as soon as I did, she fainted, and now that I had some of my strength back, I was able to catch her before she hit the floor.
With Omaera unconscious in my arms, and my heart hammering against my ribcage like a dog trapped in too small of a cage, I raced through the house until I reached the courtyard where Kenvin was grilling on the barbecue. His gaze fell to Omaera and all the blood drained from his face. “What happened?”
“I … she … she let me feed from her. I didn’t take much blood, but she fainted.”
“You what?” roared Zandren from behind me, grabbing me by the shoulder and whipping me around to face him, baring his teeth. His hair was damp from a shower, and the faint scent of sulfur from the water permeated the air.
He glanced down at Omaera in my arms and forcefully took her from me, scooping her against his chest and running to the room they had shared last night. Kenvin and I followed. The bear set her down on the bed as if she was made of porcelain, and swept his hand over her forehead.
“Little One,” he murmured, pressing his mouth to her forehead. “Little One, it’s your Pooh Bear. Wake up, my love.” Shooting me a glare over his shoulder, he growled, “Go.”
“She’s my mate as well,” I argued, not budging.
“Not a bonded one yet,” he shot back, leaving Omaera’s side, grabbing me by the bloody shirt collar and throwing me up against the hard concrete wall. He got right up in my face, baring his teeth as fury and fear raged in his eyes. “You selfishly took from her more than she had to give.” His grip on my collar tightened. “Not mate material, if you ask me.”
Kenvin was there beside us now, his arm on Zandren’s. “Let’s focus our energy on healing her, not on killing each other.”
With another growl that showed off more of his teeth, Zandren released my shirt and shoved away from me, returning to Omaera’s side.
Taking a deep breath, I stepped away from the wall and cracked my neck side-to-side, my gaze focused on Omaera. Kenvin sidled up beside me, but didn’t say anything. Maxar, entered the room, smelling vaguely of sulfur—just like the bear.
Zandren pressed his mouth to hers like she was Sleeping Beauty and he was Prince Phillip or whatever. I fought the urge to roll my eyes. I was too busy berating myself for letting her talk me into feeding off her anyway. I never should have agreed to it. She was exhausted.
Yet, the mention of tasting her again, of getting to be that much closer to her, was too impossible to pass up. I was weak when it came to Omaera. Weak for any scrap of her she threw my way. All of it eased the deep, agonizing ache inside of me that grew worse the longer she put off our Mate Bond.
Zandren pressed his forehead to hers and murmured something none of us could hear.
“Is this common after training?” Maxar asked, concern laced through his tone.
“No,” Kenvin said bluntly, never taking his eyes off Omaera. “Then again, these are very unusual circumstances. She’s half human, she has three Fated Mates, she allowed a vampire to feed off her, and she’s probably the most powerful demon I’ve ever met. None of this is common . ”
Zandren climbed onto the bed and curled himself around her. She was breathing and didn’t seem to be anything more than asleep. Placing his giant ham of a hand on her chest between her breasts, he closed his eyes and pushed healing powers into her through their Mate Bond.
She stirred, but didn’t open her eyes. Rather, she just turned into him, curling herself up into a ball and snuggling into Zandren’s body, making a little sigh and a hum of contentment.
Tension eased from my shoulders. She was sleeping now, no longer unconscious from fainting.
“Go,” Zandren growled at all of us. “Leave us.”
Kenvin nodded and departed. Maxar and I stood there a little longer. “Let me know when you need to eat and tap out,” Maxar murmured before turning around to leave.
The bear’s eyes met mine, hate in his gaze. I fought the urge to recoil at how much he wanted to rip off my head with just that look. He’d do it too if he didn’t know how much it might upset Omaera.
“Are you selfish and deaf?” he asked, his voice dark and threatening. “I said go .”
I nodded, shut my eyes for a moment, counted to ten in my head, then spun on my heel and left, the ache in my chest intensifying just being in a different room from my mate.
The feeding helped, but it also gave me more of a taste of her and would make the distance between us all the more painful. I noticed that every time I fed from her, my body craved her more and went through withdrawal like she was a drug—because she was. The more I fed from her without us being mate-bonded, the harder being away from her would become.
As soon as I went to my bedroom, stripped, and stepped into the shower, it was like a vice squeezed relentlessly around my ribcage, threatening to crack the bones and crush my heart and lungs. It wasn’t a scary pressure, just an uncomfortable one. A constant one. A relentless reminder that my mate was close, but not close enough. Close with other men, just not me.
The water was too hot no matter how much I tried to adjust the temperature. So I made it quick. I washed all the blood from my face and neck, scrubbed the sweat from my skin, and rinsed my hair. The constant scent of sulfur from the water was disgusting, but eventually it became so ingrained in my pores and nose that I barely noticed it anymore.
Once dressed again in black slacks and a black button-down shirt, I joined Kenvin out in the courtyard. Maxar was there too, quietly sitting on a lounge chair, playing with purple flames along his fingers. He caught my eye and grunted. I wasn’t sure if that was his weird mage way of saying I should take the seat beside him, or if I wasn’t welcome.
Unlike the bear, who didn’t hide any of his feelings, the mage was a difficult gent to read and predict. Kenvin was dealing with the barbecue. So I took my chances and sat down in the other lounge chair opposite the mage, my posture a complete paradox to his loose and relaxed sprawl. Was that called “manspreading”? The gap between his knees in those hideous genie-style pants was enormous, and the way he leaned back against the chair and casually danced the flames across his fingers was a level of ease I’m not sure I’ve ever had.
Snuffing out the flames, he sat forward, but didn’t close his legs. He rested his elbows on his thighs and glanced at me with an intensity that caught me off guard. “Walk me through what happened when we left you two in the training room,” he demanded. I didn’t think he was necessarily upset, at least his tone didn’t come across that way, but I could tell he wasn’t in the immediate forgiveness mood either.
I shook my head, shoved my fingers into my damp hair and hung my head to stare at the concrete-tile ground beneath my loafers. “We were talking. We were …” I swallowed, “she gave me a hug, telling me how sorry she was for torturing me, and hurting me, and also for how things transpired with Howar.” I glanced up at him from the corner of my eye to gauge his reaction.
Maxar’s dark-red brows twitched, and he blinked his amber eyes, but he didn’t say anything.
Was a lack of a reaction from the volatile mage better or worse?
“She demanded I feed from her wrist. She said she’d behead me if I didn’t. That I wasn’t allowed to deny my queen. ”
That made the mage snort and smirk. “Sounds like our queen.”
I cleared my throat. “So, I made one puncture hole in her wrist and only drank a little. Less than half a pint. It shouldn’t have made her faint. I fed more from her last night and she didn’t faint.”
“Yeah … but she didn’t spend all day yesterday torturing us and manipulating our minds. I know we had it bad, but it wasn’t a walk in the park for her to do what she did today. She was fatigued. Mentally and physically exhausted. So even taking half a pint probably depleted her too much.”
Nodding, I rested my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands. “I know that now.”
“I’m not going to verbally flog you. I’m sure you’re doing that enough yourself. And she will be fine. The bear, however, wants to make a pinata out of your hollowed out carcass.”
“I know.”
“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry that your cousin turned out to be a traitor. I know what it’s like to feel shame about who your family is.”
I glanced up at the mage, his expression sincere, almost pained. “Are you going to go see your parents?”
He shrugged, but his shoulders were stiff. “I don’t know yet. They have no love for me. And I …” he frowned, “I have none for them. So I don’t understand where this gnawing sense of obligation comes from.”
“Howar’s mother is there too. In prison. I had to take her there myself. Only other time I had to come through the portal.”
“Your aunt, right? The Dowager Queen?”
I nodded. “And like you, I feel this odd sense of obligation to go see her. Particularly now that I know Howar betrayed me.”
“Like maybe she can give you some answers about why he betrayed you?”
I nodded again. “Yeah … maybe. I don’t know. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, and in the very back of my mind, always suspected it was possible Howar might secretly be vying to rule the entire realm, considering who his parents are—”
The mentions of Howar’s parents and the fact that if they were traitors must mean he was a traitor, therefore if Maxar’s parents were evil, ergo, he must be evil, hit me in the head like a Morningstar.
“My apologies,” I murmured. “I didn’t mean—”
Maxar waved his hand in dismissal. “It’s fine. I get it. You and the entire Mage Council have the same idea. They’ve been watching me for centuries. Just waiting for the poisoned apple to fall directly at the base of the toxic tree.”
“For the record,” I started, honestly feeling terrible for saying something like that to him, “I don’t suspect you of … evil. Of being lured by dark magic. My father was a terrible monster as well. So it’s in my blood as much as it is yours. We’re simply choosing the better path. Not allowing our DNA to dictate our behavior.”
“Thanks,” he said, but I could tell he didn’t believe me. “It’s all fucked up is what it is. We can’t escape the horrors of our family, no matter how hard we try. And boy, do I fucking try.”
I continued to nod. “Blood is thicker than I think any of us would like it to be. Omaera’s uncle wants her dead. My aunt and father, and your parents, are all homicidal maniacs …” I glanced at the bedroom door where Zandren was with Omaera. “Do you know if the bear has any skeletons of shameless family members in his closet?”
“Oh, I’m sure he has skeletons. Ones he’s mauled and disemboweled himself. He probably keeps them as trophies, mounted on the wall of his cave.”
That made me snort.
The mage leaned in and dropped his voice to a whisper because bears have impeccable hearing. “Do you honestly believe he lives in a cave ? Like a real, proper cave ? Wet and dank, and with bat shit all over the floor?” He made a face of disgust that I found amusing.
“Dinner’s ready,” Kenvin said with a grunt, turning to face us. “Eat up. The protein will help with your recovery.”
“You said it’s magsith?” Maxar asked, standing up. I stood up as well. “Does it taste like chicken?”
“Tastes like magsith,” Kenvin said, opening the lid of the enormous barrel-shaped grill to unveil the hideous beast on the spit. It wasn’t the entire animal though, just the front half, minus the horns and mantis-like pinchers. So it really just resembled an elk’s head and torso, I suppose.
“So helpful,” Maxar murmured, adopting his token smirk as he snagged my eye and picked up a plate.
Kenvin carved off each of us a piece from the shoulder and placed it onto our plates. “There are charred night leeks over there.” He pointed to the small table where a tray of blackened bulbs lay stacked and still steaming.
Maxar and I loaded some on our plates, then went back to our seats. Kenvin pulled up a chair a moment later and the three of us sat in silence eating.
The magsith was edible. Not great, but not as terrible as I had anticipated. The leeks were about the same. I would say that the char actually saved them, as the bitterness of the burned part masked the otherwise questionable flavor.
“She’ll be all right,” Kenvin said after a little while. “It was a tough first day.”
“Be honest,” Maxar started, “do you think she’ll be able to learn her powers and take down Lerris?”
Kenvin’s crystal-blue eyes narrowed as he chewed, thinking. “Depends how much time you have. Will she learn her powers? Of course. She’s immortal. Eventually, she’ll figure them out. In the short amount of time you four seem to think she has?” He scratched at his chin. “She’s got a lot to learn still. She’s got a lot of power that she needs to learn how to control. Otherwise, she’s going to hurt someone she doesn’t want to hurt. That ball of red energy isn’t anything I’ve ever dealt with before, but it seems to only come about when she is angry. If she can conjure it at other times as well, like times of fear, that could be helpful. She also needs to learn how to target it. How to shrink it so it takes out just her intended target and not the entire room.”
“It took out that douche at the tavern the other night,” Maxar said. “She didn’t hurt anybody else then. Which is progress from the last time she conjured it, which was like a sonic boom that dropped us all to the ground and killed a bunch of vampires.”
The old demon nodded. “True. But she needs to be able to do that every time. Do you think she can?”
We were quiet. As much as we wanted to believe that Omaera could single out an individual target every time, we weren’t sure. She got lucky last night. But would she always be so lucky?
“If you put some of this barbecue sauce on the magsith, it makes it taste better,” Kenvin said, handing me a small bottle without a label on it. I eyed him warily, but he seemed to have a puddle of the brown goop on his plate. Hopefully this was the same stuff, and he wasn’t trying to kill me. I squirted a little onto my plate and swirled a chunk of the medium-rare magsith meat around in it, then hesitantly brought it to my mouth.
Maxar watched me curiously, and when my eyebrows shot up my forehead in surprise, so did his. “Not toxic?” the mage asked.
Kenvin scoffed. “Not trying to kill you morons. Yeesh.”
“It’s surprisingly palatable,” I replied, handing the mage the bottle. He proceeded to cover his meat and leeks with the stuff, then acted surprised when he took a bite and enjoyed it.
“Hey, that’s not terrible,” he said. “Finally, something in Hell that’s not hellish.”
Kenvin rolled his eyes.
“What’s the sauce made of?” Maxar asked.
Kenvin’s gaze shifted abruptly to me which caused me to pause mid-chew.
“I’m guessing it’s better we not know , ” I said slowly.
The old demon merely grunted, then started eating again. “Once you get over the heat, the monsters, the terrible food, the dust, the sulfuric water, and the overall sense of perpetual doom, it’s not a terrible place to live.”
My lips twitched as I stared at the old demon. Was he joking or being serious?
“Are you joking or being serious?” Maxar asked. “Because I honestly can’t tell.”
Kenvin rolled his eyes again and chewed his food.
“You think the bear will ever tap out? He’s got an appetite bigger than fucking Jupiter,” Maxar said with a chuckle before biting into a leek.
I shook my head. “Not if it means abandoning Omaera. He’d starve himself before he left her if he thought she needed him.”
Maxar’s head bobbed thoughtfully, and a flush of color filled his cheeks. He felt the way I felt. Jealous of Zandren and Omaera’s bond. Envious of their connection and how truly enmeshed they were. Him being with her right now was no doubt healing her in ways that Maxar and I couldn’t, because she hadn’t mate-bonded with us yet.
“You ever have a mate?” Maxar asked Kenvin, tipping his gaze up to the old demon.
Kenvin swallowed what was in his mouth and nodded. “Estrid. A demon. We lived in Poland during the mid-1700s. Unfortunately, she was tried as a witch.”
I swallowed and stared at him, as did Maxar.
“The man at the helm of her persecution was a demon himself. A hateful man named Hellio. He had her beheaded because he knew burning her wouldn’t work.” Kenvin took a deep breath, working his jaw back and forth a few times.
We waited patiently.
No matter how much time passed, I’m sure it never got easier speaking about the death of a mate. I hoped to never experience such a thing. Eventually, he spoke again. “He hated me because I had human friends. I didn’t care if you were human, demon, mage, vampire, or shifter, so long as you were a good person. A kind person. There was so much unnecessary war and hate in the world. Why hate someone simply because of what they were? Estrid taught me that. She was kind to everyone. She gave starving people bread, cold people blankets, and sick people compassion and care. But Hellio thought she shouldn’t be wasting her time or energy on humans. He told her to stop or suffer the consequences. I went to him, threatened him myself if he didn’t leave Estrid alone. So he gathered an army of demons one night. They overpowered me and took Estrid. He tried her in the town square as a witch and she was beheaded the next day.”
My mouth hung open. So did Maxar’s.
“Oh my god,” came a soft, breathy voice from the bedroom. Omaera stood in the doorway to the room she shared with Zandren. The big bear was behind her like an angry shadow, glaring at me. Then she rushed across the courtyard and wrapped her arms around Kenvin from behind, hugging him tightly. “I’m so sorry,” she whimpered, burying her face in his neck. “So sorry.”
The old demon didn’t know how to react. It was like it’d been over two hundred years since he’d been hugged. His blue eyes went wide, and his mouth hung open.
But she just kept hugging him.
Eventually, he softened a little and patted her hand. “It’s all right. Enough of this.” His words came out choked and gritty like he was attempting to steel long trapped, dust-covered emotions that wanted desperately to break through.
I knew what that was like.
Omaera gave him a final squeeze, followed by a kiss on the cheek that made the old demon blush, and stood up again, wiping tears from her eyes.
Kenvin cleared his throat and refused to make eye contact with any of us. How long had it been since he told anybody about his mate? Did they have any children?
“How are you feeling, My Queen?” Maxar asked changing the subject, which I’m sure our host appreciated.
“Better,” she said, blinking away the last of her unshed tears. “I was just drained.”
Zandren growled and glared at me as he stalked over to the grill.
She swatted his back. “Not of blood. Just mentally and emotionally.” Her gaze softened when it landed on me. “Maybe the blood loss didn’t help, but I’m fine now. Honestly.”
“I’m sorry,” I murmured.
Her smile eased the ache in my chest. “It’s okay. Are you feeling better?”
Nodding, I glanced down at my plate. “I am, thank you.”
“That’s all that matters.”
Zandren came over and handed her a plate. “Here, Little One. You need to eat.” He glanced at me again and growled, baring his teeth this time.
“Ignore him,” she said to me, accepting the plate and thanking the bear.
Zandren returned to the grill to load himself up a plate.
“What is this?” Omaera asked, taking the seat I offered her.
“Magsith,” Kenvin replied. “Magsith and night leeks.”
“Make sure you add the sauce,” Maxar said, standing up to go back for seconds. I didn’t like it enough to put myself through that again. “But don’t ask what it’s made of.”
With momentary terror in her eyes, Omaera squirted some of the brown sauce onto her plate. She speared a leek with her fork. “So, what’d I miss?”
Maxar, Kenvin, and I exchanged looks.
“Nothing, really,” Maxar said, rejoining us and taking his seat again. The bear sat on the ground like an animal, and I preferred to stand. “Just deciding if we should go to the prison to see our shamed family members, or if we should wait a few more centuries and visit the next time we’re in Hell. You know,” he shrugged, squirting what I would consider way too much mystery sauce onto his plate, “fun stuff like that.”