Chapter 24
Isabelle
Idon’t see Oziel for the rest of the day as I explore the castle, and I decide not to wait for him when I return to our room that evening.
The sheets have been changed, and the bed is freshly made, all evidence of our morning together stripped away.
If I didn’t feel the delicious ache between my legs, I would think I dreamed up our time together.
The moment my head hits the pillow, exhaustion sets in.
Free of wine lust and tired from the best sex I’ve had in my life, I fall into a dreamless sleep.
I don’t think I even move once throughout the night because, when I wake up the following morning—or what I assume to be morning since it’s always like night here—I’m in the same position I fell asleep in: on my back with the covers pulled up to my chin.
Unlike last night, though, I’m not alone.
From the corner of my eye, I see Oziel lying on his back.
I must have been exhausted because I never heard him come in last night or felt him slip into bed.
I turn toward him, but he doesn’t move. He’s awake, his eyes wide open and fixed on the ceiling, unblinking.
There’s no way he hasn’t noticed me, and yet he hasn’t acknowledged me.
“Oziel?” My voice comes out rough, thick with sleep. “What’s wrong?”
A heavy stillness clings to him, like a storm trapped beneath the surface, waiting to break. The dim light casts shadows under his eyes, deep, smudged bruises of exhaustion. He looks like he hasn’t slept at all.
When he looks at me with his tortured expression, I’m reminded that he’s an ancient being because exhaustion weighs heavily on him. “Four more demons turned to stone yesterday.”
“Four?” I push myself up to a sitting position. My attention is drawn to the bouquet on the table in front of us. Another petal has fallen from the stem, floating to the table surface like an ominous warning.
We’re running out of time.
And Oziel is losing his confidence.
I draw the covers away from me, getting out of bed. Oziel eyes me with curiosity. “Where are you going?”
“To get dressed. The ball is only a few days away, yes?” I search through my chest for something that doesn’t cut off my oxygen. I find a simple black dress with no corset in sight and murmur a silent thank you to whatever demon supplied me with the garment.
“It is.” Oziel gains back some of the ferocity in his voice that I’ve come to associate with him.
“Then we aren’t without a plan,” I remind him gently, tugging off my nightgown.
Oziel’s eyes darken, drinking me in. Even without the lust wine from yesterday, I preen at his attention. But there’s no time to act upon it. “We just need to figure out how to lure the demon poisoning River Hel out of hiding at the ball.”
Oziel puts a hand up, silencing me. I’m almost offended until I hear a knock on the door. “Come in.” He gives me a look to keep quiet.
The door swings open, and Garvan steps inside.
The usually composed demon looks anything but.
His hair is a tangled mess, strands falling over his sharp features, and his shirt hangs open, unbuttoned and wrinkled, exposing the pale expanse of his chest. He’s lean, his body wiry and toned, but nowhere near as imposing as the man sitting on our bed.
Oziel, with his broad shoulders and raw, effortless strength, makes Garvan seem almost delicate in comparison. Yet there’s something about Garvan’s quiet intensity that demands attention despite his disheveled state.
“Any news?” Oziel continues a conversation I’m not privy to.
“The demons found early this morning were part of a morning watch, headed to patrol the eastern borders, toward Pixie Hollow,” Garvan recites, earning a curse from Oziel.
“There have been reports of Nephilim activity near Pixie Cove. Which is…unsettling,” Oziel murmurs.
“Why is that unsettling?” I’m unable to hold back my curiosity. I wish I knew more about the geography of Mescos. A whole kingdom of pixies? What other wonders exist here, hidden beyond my limited knowledge?
When I’m free, I’ll explore every corner of it, uncovering its secrets for myself. The thought should fill me with excitement, the way it once did. But it doesn’t. Not anymore. At least not alone. I push that uneasy feeling aside, refusing to acknowledge the weight it carries.
“Pixie Cove is the center of all magic in Mescos,” he explains.
My brow furrows. “But I thought you got your magic from River Hel?”
Like a patient mother, Oziel nods. “Correct, Kitten. But the magic from Pixie Cove is the essence of all magic in Mescos. Without it, we would cease to exist in our current state. The River Hel would be nothing but a river. If the Nephilim seize that power, life as we know it is over.”
“It will change everything if the Nephilim have access to that sort of power,” Garvan interjects. His solemn expression shows he’s worried about the news, just as worried as Oziel is.
“Then, using the ball to—”
“See to it that their bodies are brought out with the rest. Dispatch more demons to our eastern border and send word to the pixie king, Taivan, about the Nephilim activity,” Oziel interrupts me, and I slightly seethe.
This is twice he’s spoken over me. I understand he’s stressed, but I won’t be the recipient of that stress.
Garvan lingers by the door, slow to acquiesce to Oziel’s order. “Is it wise to send more men?” he asks after a pause. “We can’t afford to lose more demons, my lord.”
“I’m well aware of what we can and cannot afford to lose, Garvan.” Oziel’s voice is sharp as a blade. “Unless you have a better plan for scouting our borders, you’ll do as you’re told.”
His tone is unyielding, pure authority, the kind that would make a lesser demon drop to their knees in submission.
The air crackles with the weight of his command.
Garvan stiffens, his muscles coiled with tension, but he doesn’t lower his gaze.
Instead, he holds firm, meeting Oziel’s eyes head-on before offering a single curt nod.
“Then it shall be done.” Garvan’s gaze lands on me as he offers me the same respectful nod he gave Oziel. “Enjoy your morning, my queen.” Effectively dismissed by his king, he turns on his heels and walks out of the room. The door closes behind him, leaving my husband and me alone.
I round on Oziel, just as the demon king stands up, placing his hands on my shoulder.
It’s a gentle touch, but it may as well be searing for how hot it makes my body.
“I didn’t mean to cut you off, Kitten,” he whispers.
It amazes me that this fierce demon, surrounded by darkness, can be so gentle when he chooses to be.
It’s very conflicting. “But as much as I want to trust my demons, I can’t rule out anyone.
Someone is betraying the kingdom. Betraying me.
Until we figure out who, then all talk of finding the traitor stays between us. ”
The anger simmering inside me fades, replaced by a quiet understanding. He has to view everyone as a suspect until proven otherwise, which sounds like a relentless, exhausting way to exist. No wonder he looks like he hasn’t slept in days, with shadows etched deep beneath his eyes.
I exhale, letting go of the last traces of frustration. “Then what’s our plan?” My voice is softer now, laced with something closer to empathy.
“Normally, the celebration spans throughout the castle. This time, we will centralize it to one location. Much easier to keep an eye on everyone that way,” he says. “We will celebrate as if nothing is amiss, but I’ll make note of the demons who aren’t in attendance.”
“And what do I do?” Unlike Oziel, my knowledge of his people is minimal, but I don’t wish for them to suffer. It would hurt Oziel too much, and despite my vow not to care for him, he’s getting under my skin in more ways than one.
“You, Kitten, will dance, party, and mingle to get information.”
I frown. “Have you forgotten that I’m queen? No demon will speak freely to me. Not if they know anything.” The staff has seen my face, and demons talk. Those who haven’t seen me yet still know I exist. It only takes one finger pointed in my direction for this whole plan to unravel.
Oziel appears unmoved by my problem. “Then you won’t be the queen at the ball.”
“Speak plainly,” I grit through my teeth. “If you have a plan, share it.”
“So impatient, Miss Sinclair. Yes, I’m quite aware that the demons won’t speak openly with you if they think they are speaking to the queen.
However, if they think they are just speaking to a pretty she-demon, their tongues may be looser.
” Oziel circles me. Predator assessing his prey. Except I’m not prey.
I whirl on him, grabbing his wrist. His eyes flash with emotion. Anger? Lust? Something else? I ignore it. “How will I disguise myself, then?”
“My power may not be as strong as normal, but I can shadow your appearance, making you appear different to anyone who looks at you. I can give you a few hours at most. As long as you stay within the ballroom, we shouldn’t have a problem. You just need to play your part.”
My part. How would a demon act at these parties? Considering what we are giving them to drink and everything else I’ve seen, it will require pretending to be drunk on lust. “So, you want me to flirt and fuck my way to an answer?”
There’s no denying the anger written across his features this time. His golden eyes darken, body tensing. His hand curls around my hip, pulling me closer. “I said nothing about fucking, Kitten,” he says in a low, gruff voice that would send weaker women to their knees before him.
I’m tempted to fall to my own knees, especially considering what I got to experience yesterday, but Oziel has made no mention of it, so neither will I.
“I will do what must be done to get answers,” I argue.
“You don’t need to fuck to get answers.” His grip on my waist tightens, and he pulls me flush against his body. My breath hitches as he tilts my chin up, forcing me to look in his eyes. “Flirt if you must. Touch even. But under no circumstances will you fuck anyone.”
“Anyone but you, that is.” I wish my voice didn’t sound so breathless, giving away my own lust. My mind conjures up pictures of last night. His throbbing cock in my mouth. His muscular body over mine, fucking me with abandon. Wetness and heat pool between my thighs.
As if in tune with my arousal, Oziel’s nostrils flare, his tongue slowly and deliberately running across his lips. “Correct, Kitten. You fuck no one but me.”
Mustering up my last bit of power against him, I tug on his pants, pulling his hips to mine. He stumbles forward with a grunt. “And you fuck no one but me either. If you so much as kiss another, I will retaliate. I’ve killed once. Don’t think I’m afraid to do it again.”
A sexy smirk crossed his lips. “Not even kissing? Why, Miss Sinclair, I gave you permission to kiss to get information.”
“Yeah, you did. Dumb strategy on your part. I give you no such permission,” I say, heat in my voice.
There’s no way I can stop him if he decides to play with another demon at the ball.
I have no power against him. But I also won’t watch my husband openly flirt with someone in my presence.
When I’m gone, he can fuck through his whole kingdom. Until then, he’s mine.
“Very well,” he finally says after a brief silence, his voice smooth and rich, like velvet sliding over my skin.
A slow warmth spreads through me at the sound, both alluring and dangerous.
“I will stand by and watch my wife flirt with and kiss other demons in the name of gathering information while I keep my hands to myself. Hardly seems fair, but then again, I am nothing if not merciful.”
“So, we have a plan.”
“It seems we do,” Oziel says. “And once this is over, Kitten, I would very much like to show you why you won’t be satisfied fucking anyone else.”
How could I possibly say no to that? Maybe I should. It wouldn’t be wise to get too attached, and even though I try to ignore it, there’s an undeniable pull. Unfortunately, I’m not strong enough to deny it.