13. Isabelle
Isabelle
“Well, that’s fucking unfortunate,” I huff, crossing my arms over my chest. I don’t miss the way Oziel’s gaze dips down to my cleavage. His eyes darken, reminding me of a starless sky, something you could get lost in.
“Well put, Kitten. Very astute observation.”
What I just thought about him, I take back.
His eyes remind me of garbage. Fat, smelly piles of trash.
Why this man insists on that god-awful nickname, I’ll never know.
Telling him off or showing any negative emotion toward the name would only give him satisfaction, so I try to keep my face as neutral as possible.
Judging by his snicker, it’s not working well.
Oziel just burdened me with a lot of pertinent information.
My mind is still reeling from everything.
Even as I look upon the still river, I can’t picture what it once was: a power that sustained demon magic.
The air is filled with death and decay, and a heavy sadness washes over me, as if River Hel is crying out, grasping at the last bits of power remaining.
It’s hard to be near it. I’m not even a demon—depending on who you ask—but even I can tell how sacred this river is. How can one of Oziel’s own want to poison it? What would be in it for them other than the downfall of Oziel?
“Someone hates you very much,” I say after a pause.
When he smiles, it doesn’t meet his eyes. Oziel does a good job at playing the role of a mighty, unfeeling king, but I think he shoulders every burden and failure. He’s just gotten really good at hiding it.
“That does not narrow the list down much, I’m afraid,” he says. “Even as we speak, demons plan a coup against me to steal the throne. Perhaps before the curse I would say differently, but now everyone is on edge.”
“What? Why?” Something akin to anger and fear—for him?—heats my body. “If you know this, why aren’t you doing something?”
He stares pointedly at me. “I am doing something.”
Right. I’m the something. It hardly seems like enough, though.
This is way out of my skill set. Need me to kill an abusive dick?
Done. I’ll never regret that choice. But saving an entire kingdom?
Saving Oziel from his own people? People who are scared and don’t know how to handle that emotion, so it manifests in anger?
I believe Oziel is more than capable of taking care of himself.
He wouldn’t be king in a place like this if he wasn’t, but he is still one man.
I didn’t like the odds.
“So, what do we do? Obviously, the first thing would be to figure out who is sabotaging your magic supply.”
I’m shocked to see Oziel shake his head. “No, the first thing is for us to marry.”
He could have sprouted a tail to match his horns, and I would have been less shocked.
“What?” My voice reaches octaves I didn’t know I was capable of. “After everything you just told me, you would rather focus on our marriage than the real problem?”
“I am focusing on the problem, Miss Sinclair,” he growls. I pretend my body doesn’t heat at the sound. “And I’ll be at my strongest if I’m connected to my human wife. For everything we will endure, I need to be at my strongest.”
His words are a stark reminder of why I’m here. For power. For war. To further his kingdom. These are the things I agreed to when I signed the contract. Nothing else can or will come from this arrangement.
However, it’s incredibly one-sided. I haven’t survived this long on my own without looking out for myself, and even here, in front of the demon king, I will make demands.
“Fine, but I have conditions.”
“I would be surprised if you didn’t.” Oziel crosses his arms over his chest, an amused expression on his face.
“First, there’s a woman named Erin Goodwin here. I don’t know who Ender paired her with, but I want to speak with her.”
Oziel lifts a brow, clearly taken aback by my first demand.
He knows nothing of the reason why I’m here.
And although I won’t ever regret what I did or seek redemption, I’m also not ready to tell him.
Erin deserves to hear the news first. She deserves to know what happened to her abuser.
Admittedly, I’m nervous about her reaction.
I’ve never spoken to the woman, so I don’t know how she’s going to take the news.
“Noted,” Oziel says. “What else?”
Nerves get the best of me, and I awkwardly shuffle my weight from foot to foot. My next words could potentially piss him off, and there would be little I could do against a mad king. Still, I don’t want to live with the regret of not voicing my needs.
“When this is all over,” I gesture around us, “the war, the Nephilim—I want out.”
“You can’t go back home—”
“I know, and I wouldn’t go back there even if you paid me,” I interrupt.
“But that’s not what I’m saying. I want you to let me go when this is all over.
I don’t wish to stay married because it would feel too much like a prison.
I want to leave freely, despite anything that might happen between now and then. ”
I don’t realize I’ve moved closer to him until I'm a hair's breadth away from him. I see the soft rise and fall of his chest, smell his smoky scent, and feel his power. Despite their poisoned source of magic, Oziel is deadly. I fear what will happen when he truly unleashes himself upon the world.
“Do you think something might happen, Miss Sinclair?” His hot breath heats my neck.
He’s trying to get a rise out of me. Or for me to lie. I plan on doing neither. “You’re a demon surrounded by lust, and I’m not ignorant of your…charm. If something happens, I need for you to know it changes nothing.”
“Charm?” He chuckles as if I told a joke. But then he drops his smile, and a dark cloud lingers over him. “That would be for the best. You are free to leave when this is over. I will not stop you.”
“Good.” And it is good. I don’t know where I’ll go yet, but I’ll figure it out.
Yet, I can’t help but feel disappointed he agreed so easily.
I expected a little resistance…but this is for the best. I have an aching need to reach out and place my hand on his chest. If for no other reason than to assure him this decision is best for both of us. I almost do.
Then suddenly, Oziel pulls back. “We aren’t alone.” He stares off into a wooded area. My body tenses, expecting another one of those monstrous creatures, but the man who steps into the clearing is one I recognize, and my body relaxes.
“Garvan, what information do you have?” Oziel moves in front of me. I have to peer around to see the gangly demon, dressed in a pristine black outfit.
“I don’t mean to interrupt, my lord. But you said you wanted to be notified the moment I heard word from the kings.” Garvan dusts off invisible lint from his shoulder.
“Go on,” Oziel prompts.
“Alpha King Rip and King Allarick have responded. Both are willing to meet, though they’ve said nothing about including their queens. No word back from King Malix, but sources tell me his wife is with child, due any day now. I don’t think we should count on his help.”
“No matter. I only need one,” Oziel says. “Set the meeting up for three days from now. I must have time to prepare.”
“Prepare, my lord?”
“Yes.” Oziel turns to face me. The look on his face sends shivers down my spine—like I’m the shiny new toy he’s been dying to get his hands on. It should piss me off, but my traitorous body gravitates toward him.
“Prepare the vow ceremony. We will wed at the witching hour.” His smile turns positively feral before saying, “Oh, and Garvan? See to it that Miss Sinclair is properly prepared for the ceremony.”