Our ancestors were wise in choosing this location as the seat of power for the Demons.

My hounds pranced in front of Rapp, spinning and sitting and spinning again as they waited for him to toss their toys. “Grem, stay,” he commanded, and my obedient hound sank to his haunches, eyes sad as he waited his turn.

With one powerful throw, Rapp flung the rope, sending it sailing end over end while Zeec raced forward. His black fur flattened as he picked up speed, legs bunching beneath him before he leaped into the air and snatched it. He wasted no time in spinning and bounding back in our direction. The rope dropped at Rapp’s feet, and he sat, glancing from my friend to his toy and back again.

“You have to give your brother a turn,” Rapp chastised Zeec, and with a huff, the dog settled on the ground, head between his paws. Grem shot to his feet, ready to chase his prize. Rapp repeated the throw, and again, my hound raced and snatched the rope from the air.

When he returned, I said, “Give me one.”

Rapp tossed me Zeec’s toy, and together, we offered them a grueling challenge, pitting them against each other and ribbing one another when a throw fell short.

“You know, if Thast was still here, you’d have to have a third dog,” Rapp commented casually.

Ice grew around my already cold, dead heart. “Stop.”

“It’s been centuries, Rokath. You need to–”

“Move on? Forgive myself?” I seethed, fist tightening over the rope as it hung limply by my side. The memory of that fateful day smashed to the forefront of my mind. But where Thast’s cherry eyes normally seared into me, those burgundy ones appeared instead. “I’m tired of this conversation, Rapp. Let’s just never speak of it again.”

Rapp’s tongue flicked over the metal in his lip, but he raised his hands in supplication. Grem jumped for the rope dangling from one.

“Down,” I commanded, and he obeyed, though his eyes did not leave the toy despite his open-mouth panting.

“You’re not the only one who lost him, Rokath. Sometimes I want to talk about it, you know,” Rapp said quietly.

I closed my eyes and sucked in a deep breath before blowing it out again. “Not now. When we’re sitting on the Koron’s throne, we can.”

Opening my eyes, I saw Rapp nodding. “Deal.”

Clearing my throat, I tossed the rope, sending Zeec racing away again. “We should probably get back inside and clean up before dinner tonight.”

Rapp groaned, our previous conversation forgotten. “Remind me, why do I have to go?”

“Because I have to,” I replied, snatching the toy from Zeec when he returned. I rubbed his head and patted his side, then turned toward the double doors that led to my sitting chamber.

“And you have to because?” Rapp asked, joining me with Grem at his heels.

“Because Xannirin wants me there.”

Rapp snorted. “What was it you said before? ‘I am the most powerful Demon in existence?’ You don’t have to go.”

“I also said that the Kral respects what I say, so that part is important to maintain,” I reminded him, though there wasn’t a sharpness to my tone. I was merely stating the facts, despite Rapp’s obvious attempts at humor.

The cool interior of the palace was a welcome reprieve from the heat, and both the dogs flopped to the cool stone in front of the doors, before the wood slats picked up and covered the rest of the space. Their tongues lolled against it, chests rising and lowering at a rapid pace.

“See you tonight?” Rapp handed me the rope.

“Aye,” I replied, accepting it. “And before you ask, no, your current attire will not do.”

Rapp glanced down at his burgundy flying leathers. “But these show off my physique so well. And if Orith is going to be there, you might need me to distract her for you. That’s what friends do after all.” He winked as he made for the door.

I snorted. “You don’t need those, only power, to get her father’s attention.”

Grinning, he opened the heavy wood and wedged himself between my room and the hall. “Fine, I’ll ensure my clothing is crisp and clean and appropriate for all these stuck up nobles.”

And with that, he departed, leaving me to stew on the past, the present, and the future.

OceanofPDF.com

14

Donning a black satin cape with skulls embroidered in a fine burgundy thread, I straightened the last of my formal attire in preparation for dinner. Despite my preference for armor, I understood the importance of one’s appearance in all social settings, and this dinner was no exception. I abhorred the black fabric draped over a single, muscled shoulder. At best it encumbered eating; at worst, it made one an easy target for attack.

I never went anywhere without daggers strapped to my person. Not like I needed them. My magic was potent enough to kill anyone who dared assault me. But again, appearances were important, and the sharp edges were part of that facade.

My black, knee-high boots shone from their fresh polish, the gold buckles gleaming to match. Satisfied that no wrinkles sullied the wool pants and cotton dress tunic beneath my formal jacket, I strapped two additional weapons to hidden loops inside the cape and exited my sleeping chamber.

Rapp was sprawled on the angular loungers in my sitting area. He’d changed from his burgundy leathers to a similar ensemble, complete with a burgundy cape to match his eyes. That was the way of the Demons—as many reminders of our power as we could manage. As for me, I preferred black so no one forgot who I was and what I could do.

“Ready?” I asked gruffly.

Rapp caught the rough crystal as it dropped back toward his face, then sat upright, returning the stone to where it belonged on a wooden table jutted against the leather sofa. “Unfortunately.”

As we made for the door, Grem and Zeec started to follow, but I called them off, giving each a scratch behind their furry ears before sending them to their beds.

We met Xannirin in the hall. The Kral of the Demons wore a gold cape dripping in tiny burgundy gems that matched the crown resting upon his brow. A sharp point jutted down his forehead, the tip nearly resting between his brows, with mirror ones reaching for the sky. A thick, intricately etched circle of gold ringed his head, attaching the spikes and other delicate details. The crown reminded me in a way of the ebony horned helmet I wore in battle, though the trail of precious gemstones in every shade of red would have been out of place on my head.

“My Kral,” Rapp and I greeted him with sweeping bows.

Six of his red-armored guards waited behind him, and I glared at them all as I straightened. Only one of them flinched under my gaze, and I noted which male it was. I would not allow my cousin to have sloppy sentries.

“Hadvezér Rapp, Halálhívó,” he greeted us, the formality of the situation filling the air. Gone was our earlier casualness. In front of the others, the hierarchy needed to be maintained. “Join me as we make our way to the dining hall.”

“Certainly,” I replied, and we fell into step, the marching of boots echoing ahead of us and alerting all to move out of the way.

Servants swept into bows as we passed, but Xannirin paid them no mind as we turned one sharp corner after another, winding to the heart of the palace where the evening’s formal dinner would take place.

“Which houses will be in attendance, cousin?” I asked, if only to brace myself for the inevitable.

“Houses Edar, Varrir, and Tiris, as usual,” he started. The three Nayúr held lands closest to the capital, which meant they were always present, unfortunately for me, since Orith’s father was head of House Varrir. “And House Turrokar, since they have nowhere else to go.”

Turrokar’s vidék was entirely controlled by the Angels, so that one was unsurprising. It was their new permanence in the capital that had contributed to so much questioning of Xannirin’s leadership from the other noble houses and one of the reasons we were having this fucking dinner tonight. They’d walk away reassured of our unity and my commitment to our cause.