Chapter 2

Two

~ Princess Blake ~

Istride over the glossy black tiles and make my way up the long corridors of the palace. When I reach the third floor, two broad armored guards are standing sentry outside the king’s private chambers. The guards are both attractive, even if they have pinched expressions like they’ve just tasted something foul. Though, I guess their stern attitude is to be expected considering they work for my father. As I approach, I take in the corded muscles on their thick arms which are easily wider than my head, and my brows rise.

“Looks like Dad upgraded his security,” I send to Shade.

“I’ll say,” she replies appreciatively. “Check out the muscular thighs on that one.”

I have to cough to stop my laughter, but my gaze slides lower on the guard standing to the right. She isn’t wrong. The male is a beast, with rippling muscles all over. “Looks like someone doesn’t skip leg day,” I muse back, and there’s a cawing sound in my head that I know is her laughter.

Sometimes I wonder how I got so lucky finding Shade. I’d been in the human realm chasing down a demon when I’d entered a human dwelling and came across her cage. I’d thought she was dead, her feathered body a motionless bundle in a pile of birdseed, but when I’d reached out with my power, she’d begun speaking in my mind, pleading for help. I’d been startled as it was the first time my gift had presented, and it took me a good moment before I realized what was happening. When I came to my senses, I knew I had to do something. It’s against the rules to tamper with the human realm beyond what is necessary, but I brought her back to Seral and nursed her to health anyway. We have crows here, so it wasn’t hard to hide her origin from the king. Still, I keep dreading the day she’ll ask to return to the human realm.

“If you keep staring like that, he’s going to get the wrong idea,” Shade points out, jolting me from my thoughts, and I realize I’m still staring at the guard.

“Or the right one,”I send back, but my gaze snaps up, and I mentally remind myself of Trey, the witches, and why I’m here. Not slowing my stride, I move closer to the guards. “Stand aside, muscles, I have an urgent matter to discuss with the king,” I order. I expect them to open the double doors just as I reach them, but instead, they cross their spears in front of my path, and I damn near end up kissing the steel before I manage to stop. What the?

The stern-looking guard on the left doesn’t peer at me as he juts out his stubbled chin and speaks. “Apologies, highness, but the king wishes not to be disturbed.”

I frown. Of course, there have been times when the king hasn’t wanted to be disturbed in the past, but lately it’s as if he’s alwaysbusy. Not to mention that usually when the king wants to be left alone, he gives the guards an explanation to pass onto me. Going from the way these guards have their lips pressed tightly together, I’m guessing they’ve already given me the only explanation I’m going to get.

I think about returning later, but I can still picture Trey as he turned to ash, and the whole situation is making me uneasy.

“Did I say the word ‘urgent’?” I say rhetorically, licking my lips. “Because I’m pretty sure if my father knew why I’m here, he’d want to see me right away.”

Unsurprisingly, the guards still don’t move and remain blocking my way like huge immovable statues. With the added height of their curved horns, they tower above me, but it’s not like that makes a difference. Still, I wonder if it makes them feel foolish enough to think they can stop me. It always seems to be the largest demons who underestimate me the most.

“We have our orders, princess,” the guard on the right replies this time. There’s a scar that crosses over his lips, like someone once tried to cut down the center of his face, and my forehead creases more as I realize I’ve never seen him before. It’s not like this is the first time the king has changed his guards. There are a few guards on rotation who I see the most regularly, but every now and then, I’ll encounter someone new. Still, there’s something about these two that has me on edge. I’m not sure if it’s simply because I have the incident with Trey on my mind, or if my gut sense is trying to tell me something. Either way, a thread of panic winds through me. I know the feeling is irrational because King Dalton is the strongest demon to ever rule Seral and no one would be stupid enough to try and assassinate him, but…

Before the guards can react, I shoot my arms upward, flapping my wings to gain height as I knock their heads together with a satisfying thud. I’m careful not to use too much of my strength, just in case I’ve misread the situation, but they crumple to the floor unconscious, falling on top of one another in a tangled heap of limbs and armor.

“I did ask you to step aside,”I mutter apologetically under my breath as I snatch up one of the guard’s spears.

“Something tells me they’re going to wake with bruised egos more than anything else,” Shade comments, peering down as I step over them.

“Unless I’m right about what’s going on here,” I reply.Because if I am, a damaged ego is going to be the least of their worries. “Get ready,” I send to Shade a split second before I open the double doors in front of me and burst into the room.

Time slows as I scan the space like a warrior scans a battlefield, ready to take down whatever threat has infiltrated the palace. I expect a witch assassin, or even one of the Drozac from the realm of the giants—trained killers who can harness their incredible strength while remaining in their smaller form—but instead of a warrior bent over my father’s body it’s…

“Ahhhh, I can’t stop staring!” Shade shouts in my mind, flapping her wings and squawking in distress.

I cry out in surprise. I want to shield my eyes, but like Shade, my gaze remains glued to the figure who’s bent over the bed with his naked body on display, his ass cheeks bare and his pants scrunched around his ankles.

“Why is it so red?!” Shade laments, her wailing commentary filling my head. “Do you think he sat on poison ivy? Or is it some kind of allergic reaction?”

My stomach roils as I notice the red welts climbing all the way up Dad’s back. “Stop!” I plead to Shade. It’s bad enough that I have my own thoughts to deal with.

“I’m just saying. If it is?—”

I mentally block her from my mind to momentarily silence her, but it doesn’t make the situation any better. As Dad sees me, he curses and scrambles to the side, almost tripping as he tries to yank up his pants. The physician standing behind him moves forward like he’s going to help, but the king pushes him away, sending him flying across the room where he crashes into the wardrobe which splinters on impact.

My mouth opens and closes again as everything seems to happen at a comically slow speed. Oops. So I did misread the situation.

“Blake!” Dad shouts as he finally manages to do up his pants and rise to his full height. He’s shoved his trousers on with such force that the fine material has torn at the seams along his legs, and I give him a sheepish smile as his face continues to redden.

His bare shoulders rise and fall rapidly as he peers at me, and then he turns his attention to the open doors. I’m guessing he doesn’t notice the unconscious guards straight away, because he storms forward like he’s intent on tearing their heads off for letting me enter.

Before he can pass me, I shoot my spear out, blocking his path with the blunt side of the weapon. “It wasn’t their fault,” I say quickly. I’m all for bloodshed when needed, but I’m not about to let the guards pay for my mistake. I mean, they had tried to do their jobs.

King Dalton blinks like he’s only just seeing the guards on the ground, then his gaze lowers as he stares at the metal pressing lightly against his abdomen. There was a time when I wouldn’t have dared to stop my father from doing anything. When just being in his presence would have made me tremble. At seven feet tall he’s the largest demon in Seral and that’s not even counting the thick black horns that curve over his head resembling a war helmet. He’s the only ruler to finally lead the demons to victory against the witches. The only one who managed to unite the five realms against their common enemy, and the one who has fought for peace between the demon clans for more years than I’ve been alive. I can feel the physician watching us from across the room like an agitated bird wanting to fly away from here, but the doctor doesn’t move.

“You had to know they wouldn’t be able to keep me out,” I say, shrugging apologetically when Dad still doesn’t speak. Now that he realizes what’s happened, I pull the spear away. “If you left a message with them, I would have come back later. But I thought you were being assassinated.”

At that, Dad finally turns to peer at me, his black gaze finding my face. “Assassinated?” Seconds pass as he just stares at me, and then he jerks his head back and laughs. The abrasive sound rattles the walls like thunder, and slowly his anger fades, the tension leaving him like water disappearing down a crack in the pavement.

“She thought I was being assassinated!” King Dalton repeats, chuckling under his breath when his laughter dies down, and he shakes his head like the idea of him being attacked in his chambers is the most idiotic thing he’s heard this century. Which, to be fair, it probably is.

His chuckle turns into a cough, and I narrow my eyes, watching him as he closes the doors. He’s still coughing as he beckons me to follow him and leads the way to the black circular table in the middle of the room. A robe is draped over the back of a patterned armchair, and he pulls the material across his shoulders, wrapping it around himself, but not before I get another look at the massive red welts across his arms and back.

Letting down the mental barrier, I ask Shade, “Have you seen anything like that?” From her often surprisingly knowledgeable commentary, I sometimes get the feeling she’s seen much more than she’s told me about.

She sticks her beak out as she stares at the king with beady eyes. “No. Is it possible he contracted a sickness from another realm?”

A foreign allergen had been one of my first guesses, but as far as I’m aware, Dad hasn’t left the castle in months. My gaze cuts to the physician as I follow my father to the table. As a general rule, demons don’t get sick. With natural healing abilities, there aren’t many things our bodies don’t heal from. Because of this, there are few physicians in Seral, and most are usually called to help diagnose foreign illnesses and wounds that sometimes take longer to heal.

Before I can question the doctor, Dad waves his hand, dismissing the physician who scurries from the room like a startled mouse who’s been freed from a trap. Reaching over, the king pours himself a glass of strong liquor from the bottle on the table and lowers himself onto one of the chairs.

I open my mouth, about to question him about the welts, but I snap my lips together when he commands, “Sit, daughter.” From the tone in his voice, I know better than to argue.

Clenching my jaw, I drop onto the chair opposite him and cross one leg over the other. The back of the chair has been adjusted to accommodate my wings, and I stretch them out before folding them tightly again.

At first Dad doesn’t speak as he watches me, but then he sighs, closing his eyes and rubbing the bridge of his nose like he’s nursing a headache. “I’d planned to tell you at a more reasonable hour, but now that you’re here, and given what you’ve…seen, I guess there’s no point in waiting any longer.”

I furrow my brow and lean slightly forward as I study his body language. I’m expecting him to deny anything is wrong, but from the way his usually proud shoulders are drooping down, I can tell he’s already resigned himself to the idea that he’s going to divulge the issue. I think he’s going to tell me that there have been further setbacks with the negotiations between Seral and the royals of Rostof, realm of the giants. I expect him to explain that he caught a rash while visiting their realm in recent times, perhaps in secret, but he says, “Blake, I’m dying.”

I don’t hear him. Not really. I’m still busy thinking about the brutal Rostof royals, and his statement doesn’t immediately sink in.

He continues to study me as he speaks. “When the rash started, I thought I’d caught an illness while I was away, but I’ve had multiple physicians visit me over the past months, and their diagnosis is always the same. The disease is mimicking the patterns of the sickness that took your grandmother centuries ago. I’ve always known that the battle with the witches would one day get the better of me, and it seems my time has come.”

Seconds pass, and Shade speaks softly in my head. “Uh Blake, did you hear what he said?”

I swallow hard. “My grandmother?” It’s the only thing I manage to say as questions fire through my mind. I think back to the history of my grandparents. My grandfather, King Xeron, was said to have died before the war against the witches, but my grandmother, Queen Ophelia, was documented to have died from a rare disease the physicians named, Witch’s Burn.

During the war, the witches fought using all kinds of chemical weapons, and it’s believed that these chemicals sometimes caused a sickness that inflicts irreparable damage to a demon’s body. Once in a demon’s system, the demon could live for years, centuries even, but eventually their body would succumb and lose the battle against the poison.

Emotion clogs my throat as I struggle to believe what I’m hearing. “You’re talking about Witch’s Burn,” I say, and when Dad nods, I protest.

“But that can’t be right. You’re over a thousand years old, and not everyone was exposed during the battle. If you had been, surely your body would have broken down by now.” Research showed that once exposed to a particular cocktail of chemicals, most demons only lived another two centuries at most. I’d foolishly believed this meant the king was fine. “It has to be something else,” I reason. I wish the physician was still with us so I could have studied his response to all of this.

King Dalton takes another drink before lowering his glass. I wait for him to crack a smile, but his brows are set into an unwavering hard line and, for once, I realize this isn’t one of his games.

Shit.

“You’re the rightful heir to the throne,” Dad presses on as my mind begins to unravel, “but there are many who would try to usurp you. I’ve fought too hard for civility in Seral, and I refuse to die knowing it would crumble the moment Lady Fate takes me.”

Lady Fate? From what Dad’s saying, this doesn’t sound like fate to me. This sounds like injustice. Anger rushes through me as his words sink in.

Dad’s gaze softens as he stares at me. “And of course, like any dutiful father, I need to know you’ll be taken care of when I’m not around.”

His words cut through my anger, and my eyes begin to water, but I hold on to my emotions, keeping my expression unreadable. Never show weakness. It’s the number one rule he’s taught me since I was a child.

“You don’t need to worry,” I say, speaking past the hard lump in my throat.

He smiles, but his eyes shine with sympathy. It’s a look I haven’t seen on his face for years, not since I finally managed to get the demons to respect me, and I straighten my back.

“You’ve made a fine reputation for yourself as you’ve grown, daughter,” he goes on, “but you’re not…”

I wait for him to say any number of words that would fit at the end of his sentence. I’m not what? A full-blooded demon? Cut out to be a demon royal? These are all things demons have muttered behind my back since I was little. Well, they did until I showed them I was capable of making them scream and beg for mercy. Instead of uttering any of these things, he goes on to finish, “you’re not powerful enough, yet.”

I sit further back in my seat. Yet? “I’m stronger than any demon in Seral besides you.” I retort. “If the clan leaders want to come for me and stop me from being queen, then let them.” I’ve fought my whole life to prove I deserve the royal title that I was born with despite my angel blood, and to hear that I’m still not enough makes my heart harden that little bit more.

“I thought you don’t want to be queen?”Shade asks, and I know she’s trying to lighten my mood.

I don’t answer her because she’s right. I don’t want to be queen. But hearing that Dad still doesn’t think I’m worthy to rule makes my jaw clench.

King Dalton raises a black brow. “While I am sure you would give them a fight, even you cannot expect to defeat all the clan leaders in your current state.”

Wait. What? “And what current state would that be?”

He sighs wearily, and I wonder if he’s tired because of the disease or because of me. “You’re bondless, daughter,” he clarifies.

“I’m…” When I realize what he’s said, I laugh. “I can rule without being bonded. You’re telling me that you’re dying, and you want to discuss my love life?”

He rubs his thumb up and down the side of his glass. “While I’d like nothing more than to see you happy,” he replies, “you know it’s more than that. Without your bonds, you’ll never achieve your full power.”

“I’m already powerful,” I say. “Just ask the demons I’ve trained with, or the ones who cower when they see me approaching.”

“I’m not talking about being feared.”

I don’t hide my frustration. “Not all royals need to be bonded before their coronation. You weren’t.”

“I don’t have half-angel blood,” he counters, and though I try not to let it, the words still sting. I must fail at disguising my hurt because his expression softens again.

“I’m not trying to wound you, daughter. I love your mother more than life itself, and I remember what it was like before being bonded. How invincible I felt, but you will see. There is no greater strength than a demon with their bonded.”

I know I shouldn’t say it, but the words tumble out of my mouth anyway. “How can you say that after she left?”

I’m sure I’ve overstepped, but Dad’s lips only twist into a smile. “I can say it, because when I bonded with your mother, I became the most powerful demon in Seral, and the time we spent together made the rest of my life seem dull in comparison. Most say that I’m the reason we won the war with the witches, but if I hadn’t bonded with your mother, I’d be half the demon I am today.” He pauses before he adds, “And I can say it, because she gave me you.”

At his last comment, emotion threatens to overwhelm me again. Dammit, Blake. The king never says things like this. Sure, I’ve always known he cares in his own strange way, but he never outright says that he cares. The idea that he’ll be gone soon presses down on me, making my chest ache.

I’m torn between arguing more about my bonds and saying something emotional when he rifles through the stack of papers sitting on one side of the table and pulls out a shiny red scroll.

His gaze locks onto me as he hands it over. “And it’s because of you that I sent out these.”

Confused,I take the parchment from him as a sickening feeling begins to stir in my gut. Usually when Dad says he’s done something for me, I end up being put through some kind of test that he believes will build my strength or help shape my character. Like the fighting tournament where I’d had to compete against a few of the most skilled demons in Seral. I can still remember the look of pride on the king’s face when I was the last one standing, bits of torn flesh hanging between my teeth and blood leaking from various wounds on my body. A chill slides down my spine at the thought. Mostly, because while the entire fight had been barbaric, I can’t deny that I enjoyed making the competitors fall. In that moment I wasn’t a half-angel freak. I was a demon, and I was to be feared.

But it doesn’t mean I want to participate in another one any time soon. Carefully, I take the parchment and stretch it open. The red paper is trimmed with gold, and I recognize my father’s cursive handwriting.

By invitation of King Dalton, ruler of Seral, victor against the witches, and protector of the demons, all unbonded alphas of the five allied realms are hereby requested to attend a royal ball. Whomever proves to be the fated mates of Princess Blake, heir to the Throne of the Kingdom of Seral, will rule by her side when the king retires after the twelfth full moon for this year.

Heat floods my cheeks as I go on to read that the ball will be held at the palace in a week’s time.

“Please tell me this is a joke,” I blurt, but seeing as it’s stamped with the official royal seal of King Dalton, I’m guessing it isn’t.

“Invitations will be sent around Seral tomorrow, but scrolls have already been sent to Rostof, Kanzepes, Norso, and Toralyn,” Dad replies mischievously, shattering any hope I have, and proving that he is as delusional as the invitation makes him out to be.

I think of Rostof the realm of the giants, Kanzepes the realm of the beast shifters, Norso the land of the water monsters, and Toralyn the realm of the angels, and I gape. “You’re inviting everyone, including the giants? I’m pretty sure the alphas from that realm would rather see me dead than bond with me! Not to mention, the demons won’t accept outsiders as their kings!”

“Show enough strength, and they’ll come around. A union across realms might be just what we need.”

“I always knew your father was sly, maybe this is a good thing?” Shade comments.

I shake my head, still in denial. “You can’t think this is going to work?”

“Your mates are out there, daughter, and this might just be the way to find them. Considering your power now, once you’ve bonded you’ll have the power to keep the throne of Seral, and I can die knowing I won’t be leaving you alone.”

There it is again. That aching pain in my chest. “And you’re telling everyone that you’re retiring?”

“I can’t very well tell them the truth,” he replies, “but more may come now that they know you’ll be taking the throne in a matter of months.”

Ah, right. Because he figured they needed the extra incentive. After I’d won the last tournament, the demons in Seral respected me more, and in the weeks that followed a few would visit the palace, wanting to check whether they might be my fated. That is, until one of them ended up dead. He wasn’t my bonded, but he was charismatic, and I was glad for the company. Well, I was until my vagina killed him. Or at least, I’m guessing it did. I’m not even sure what happened. One moment we were at it, and I was forgetting about life, and the next he looked like he was gasping for air until he died. Suitors stopped visiting the palace after that, and my reputation grew darker as rumor spread that I’d killed the demon for being terrible in bed. I’m pretty convinced that Lady Fate must hate me, and I’m destined to live alone.

“And your mates will need to be powerful to match you, so it’s likely that they’re alphas of their kind,” Dad goes on.

I bite my lip. ‘Alpha’ is a word from the common tongue, used to describe the most powerful in each realm. For demons, this includes clan leaders, royalty, and any demons who have a strong gift. For some of the other realms, being an alpha is more biological. They’re physically the strongest and largest.

“Not to mention three mates is the most common number of fated mates for a powerful female, so I imagine you’ll have three or maybe even four,” he continues to explain himself.

I think about my mother. She only had the one mate, Dad, because they both evenly matched each other. It’s possible the same could happen to me, though occurrences like that are rare.

“I know you think you’re doing what’s best for me, but you need to call it off,” I say, bringing my thoughts back to the events that happened earlier on in the day. “There’s something going on in the city. The traitor I just interrogated was only a minor player in whatever is happening with the witches, and he had a weapon that turned his body to ash.” My nostrils flare at the memory, like I can still smell the charcoal scent coming from Trey’s horns. “We need to be focused on finding out what’s going on, not organizing royal balls and inviting outsiders into our realm.”

Dad doesn’t look concerned. “It’s one night, daughter, and finding your mates and unlocking your power will only help our situation. Until then, you have my blessing to do whatever you can to search out these traitors.”