Chapter 27

CHAPTER 27

A fterward, Beliath held his little queen and purred to her soothingly. The top of the altar was a little too small for him to lie down on it comfortably, so instead he sat on the ground next to it while his mate curled up on his lap like a cat and rested. He caressed her long hair, and it slipped through his fingers like strands of liquified night. The air around them was heavy with the scent of sex and candle wax, the bitter green aroma of lush grass, and the forest smells of tree sap and fertile soil.

The woman made soft, pleasant sounds while he petted her. Sounds that tugged at his heart in ways he'd never experienced before. It pained him whenever she had to leave him to return to her castle. As long as she was here within the darkstone ring, he knew he could protect her and the child she was carrying inside her.

Once he was free, he would be able to protect both of them all the time.

His queen stirred lightly on his lap.

"Beliath?"

"Yes, angel?"

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course."

She turned her head and looked up at him with her big, dark eyes.

"How did you come to be trapped inside this darkstone ring in the first place?"

"I don't think you want to hear about that."

She pouted. "You said I could ask." Her pout shifted into a concerned frown. "Unless it's painful for you to talk about it."

Beliath just shook his head.

"Not painful, little one. Just… embarrassing."

"I promise I won't make fun of you."

That wasn't what Beliath was worried about. He considered lying to his little queen, to spare her the hurt he feared his story might cause her, but quickly discarded that idea. He had already lied to her once before, and now he felt terrible about it. He wouldn't lie to her again.

With a sigh, Beliath began his tale.

"It was a woman named Sykora who trapped me here, a long, long time ago. She was the first high priestess of the cult that formed around this particular darkstone ring. She called to me using witchcraft, chanting arcane chants and burning secret herbs. It wasn't long before her rituals caught the attention of a wandering Sabaoth, and that Sabaoth, unfortunately, was me."

He said unfortunately , but now he wasn't so sure. If he hadn't been trapped within the darkstone ring all those years ago, he never would have met his little dark queen. Perhaps the Creator really did have a plan after all.

Malissa's voice snapped him out of his reverie.

"How did Sykora trap you?"

Beliath sighed again.

"To tell you the truth, little one, she seduced me…"

He spared Malissa the more lurid aspects of that encounter and stuck only to the necessary details. The witch had been dressed alluringly. She had invited him into her home, a rather large roundhouse with crude stone walls and a thatched room. What Beliath had not realized at the time was that the house was merely a disguise to conceal the darkstone ring, which was hidden within the walls of the structure. While the witch was "distracting" him, her followers had gathered outside and invoked the spell of binding that had imprisoned Beliath within the stones.

He watched Malissa's face as he told her his story, and he saw a flicker of jealousy behind her dark eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said, when he was finished. "I did not mean to upset you, little one, but I didn't want to lie to you."

"I don't want you to lie either," she said.

"But I made you jealous."

"A little, but…" She shook her head. "Well, that woman who trapped you has been dead and gone for a long, long time. And I hadn't even been born yet. Hell, my grandparents' grandparents hadn't been born, and even farther back than that…"

Her expression suddenly grew very stern.

"But I'll tell you this," she said. "After I set you free, if I find out you've slept with any other woman, I'll track her down and kill her."

Beliath couldn't help but laugh.

"I'm serious!" she said.

"I know you are, angel, but you don't need to be. I won't be giving you cause to kill anyone."

She looked away.

"You say that now, but once you're free, you may change your mind. You'll be able to travel the whole world, and there are many other women in the world besides myself."

"I could search the world over and never find another woman like you, Malissa. You're different, special. Which reminds me…"

Malissa's grimoire was still sitting on the altar behind him. Beliath picked it up and briefly examined the leather cover and unmarked spine. Then he opened the book and looked inside. On the first page was a warning that anyone who attempted to destroy the book would be subject to a terrible curse. Below the warning was a magic sigil, so carefully rendered, Beliath questioned whether it had been put there by a human hand.

Malissa climbed off Beliath's lap and sat beside him, watching.

"Your mother gave you this book?" he asked.

"Sort of," she said sheepishly.

"Sort of?"

"Well, I told you before that my mother was a witch, but the truth is, I never really knew my mother. I never even knew her name. She died giving birth to me. For a long time, I believed my father resented me for that. That's why he was willing to ship me off to be Wulfgang's wife, even though he must have known it would mean my death. At least that's what I thought… until I found this book."

"When did you find it?" Beliath asked.

"A few months ago, shortly after I first arrived at Drachenval. There was a trunk included with my other belongings. When I opened it, I discovered it was filled with books. I knew they couldn't have been my father's. He never reads, and he certainly wouldn't read anything like this."

She nodded toward the book in Beliath's hands.

"The grimoire had been placed right on top of the other books, as if my father wanted to make sure I saw it first. I think he was trying to send me a message by doing that. I think he was saying that my mother was cursed for her interest in witchcraft, and that's why she died in childbirth."

"Perhaps," Beliath said.

But he wasn't sure that was the message her father had been trying to send. Not quite. He thumbed through the pages of the book for a moment, then he carefully set it onto the altar behind him and turned his attention back to his little queen. Her face almost looked golden in the candlelight, and her eyes were watching him expectantly. Beliath returned her gaze for a long moment, then he looked off toward the shadowed forest surrounding the clearing and the darkstone ring.

"What are you thinking?" Malissa asked.

"I was just thinking, you've come out here to visit me many times now, always at night and always on foot, with one exception. And yet, as far as I can tell, you've never brought a lantern."

"I don't need one," Malissa said. "I've always been able to see quite well in the dark." She smiled. "When I was little, my nursemaids used to tease me that I was part cat."

Part something , Beliath thought.

"And let me guess," he said. "You've always been an exceptionally fast healer as well. When you were little, you were always getting into some kind of trouble or another, always falling down and scraping your knees or your hands. Yet you always managed to heal much faster than other children."

She looked at him curiously.

"Yes…"

"And you've always had a knack for finding hidden things. As soon as you came to Drachenval, you found all the secret passages without even really trying. And you happened upon my darkstone ring, even though nobody else has been to this place in ages."

The little queen began to look worried.

"Beliath, what are you getting at?"

"You say you never knew your mother, Malissa. I wonder, did you ever know your father either?"

"Of course! My father is Lord Herzog."

"Is he really?"

The queen's eyes were wide now, and Beliath could see the gooseflesh texturing her bare skin in the candlelight.

"You think I'm a bastard child?" she asked.

"I think you're a demonchild, a cambion, a half-demon. I've suspected it ever since the incident with the poison. Based on the dose you were given, our child should have been killed. What saved him was your body, Malissa—a body that is far more resilient than that of an ordinary human."

"But… I don't look like a demon."

"Neither will our child, remember? If your true father was a Sabaoth like myself, he could have used his magic to hide your true nature when he conceived you in your mother's womb."

The queen's lip trembled softly. Tears were forming in her eyes. One of them rolled down her cheek, and Beliath gently wiped it away.

"Come now, little one. It's not such a bad thing to be a demon, is it?"

"It's not bad," Malissa said. "Just… overwhelming. If my real father really was a demon like you, what happened to him and my mother?"

"I don't know," Beliath said. "Perhaps nobody knows, except…"

"My father," Malissa finished. "Or my stepfather, or whatever he is."

Beliath saw the look of hurt in her eyes. It wasn't the idea of being a cambion that upset her. At least, Beliath didn't think so. It was the fact that the truth had been hidden from her all these years. She'd been lied to, about her mother, about herself, about everything.

And Beliath would be damned if he would add to that lying anymore.

"Malissa," he said, lifting her chin with his finger. "There's something I must tell you. I have lied about something, and I hope you will forgive me."

"Lied about what?"

"I told you I had put a curse on you to make you die during childbirth if you did not free me at the time of the equinox. It isn't true. I only said that as a way to ensure you would come back and free me. It was wrong for me to do that, and I am sorry. Now you know, and it is up to you whether or not you still wish to set me free."

She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could answer, Beliath interrupted her.

"Before you say anything, Malissa, know this: If you do free me from my prison, the child you are carrying in your womb will never be Wulfgang's heir, and you will no longer be his wife. I will take you away from this place, and we will travel the world together as mates, as a family. Once you set me free, you will no longer have any choice in the matter. I will take you with me, whether you want me to or not."

When he was finished, the little queen raised herself up on her knees and kissed him. That kiss told him everything he needed to know.

She was his.