Fuck.
His smirk widened—all ice gone. He released me. “Enamai. Come.”
That seemed like a specific choice of word. I’d be annoyed at myself for responding to his body, but the cold side of him had retreated as quickly as it appeared. One little moan and a shaking exhale had convinced the demon king that I could always be harnessed, whereas my words had only raised his suspicions.
I’d need to remember that.
In this ballroom, one of three in the royal fortress, the throne occupied the center. Two seats sat on the right and left. Demons could converse and dance around the thrones while gawking at their king and flashing him their assets. The flashing got steadily wilder as the evening wore on. Those who occupied the fortress liked this type of evening the most.
I’d seen and done this night one hundred times.Yawn.
I sat on my throne next to his, and waved away a yellow holding a tray of drinks.
“You’ve already eaten,” Carmine murmured, accepting a goblet. He never drank fermented beverages in front of his minions. He drank water, or golg—a sweet demon drink. “Tell me, is your grandfather a good cook?”
“No, he’s not,” I answered, but returning home for meals was part of the deal I’d made.
I had portaled away from the fortress at three in the afternoon, then returned for this banquet at seven. As for how good a cook my grandfather was, he didn’t have much to work with. Pickings were slim in the desert, mostly critters and bitter plants. His occasional trips inland to the outer realm districts for supplies were few and far between, so the supplies had to stretch over months. Those helped to keep food edible if not enjoyable, but I could safely say that I’d never have experimented so much in cooking if I’d had access to the bountiful food in the fortress. I enjoyed figuring out how to make sand critter innards taste better.
Carmine leaned on his throne and sprawled his legs wide. I’d always liked him doing that, and the fucker knew it. Because I’d once told him. A hot king throne-sprawl was the demon equivalent of a woman bending over to show her ass, or leaning forward to show her cleavage.
“That explains why you ordered a servant to bring you a basket of food earlier,” Carmine said lazily.
I had. Anddammit.Did the servant blab to him? I didn’t think anyone overheard my order. Only two people could have eluded my senses to do so. Carmine and…
Her shadow fell over me with all the warmth and comfort of an angry beehive. The woman didn’t need daggers when her voice could stab a person just as effectively, but she had them on her at all times anyway. Part of her look.
“Get out of my seat, human.”
Carmine’s mother.
She’d surprised me, and that wasn’t a good start. I’d absorbed far more in my two years here than anyone knew, and I understood very well that unless I established dominance, it didn’t matter how many trainings I attended—the other crimsons would never respect me. The queenmustbe more powerful than the king’s mother.
If I couldn’t earn their respect or their fear, then winning Tiers wouldn’t matter.
I kept my tone very bored. “Mother is home.”
“Yes,” she answered. “And Mother still keeps her daggers sharp.”
“However would Carmine get on without you?” I looked up at her then. I couldn’t turn my back on Athira as I could with her daughter.
Athira’s focus trailed over my toned arms and my face. “You have altered, but you have not earned the seat on Carmine’s right. Remove yourself and consider this your last warning.”
“Why don’t we put the question to your son, Athira? You really must stop fighting his battles for him. I wouldn’t dream of questioning him so.” I twisted to look at Carmine. “Would you like your mother to make decisions for you, great king of demons?”
His expression was carefully blank, and a curious amusement found me. Some things in the demon realm were exactly as they were in the Earth realm, and a man caught between his mother and his significant other was one of them. I could almost admire Carmine’s loyalty to his mother over my very public challenge. He wasn’t picking sides. Which shocked me, too, because I’d expected him to dismiss me.
Fabric ripped, and a tugging sensation pulled at my shoulders and waist. Carmine’s eyes widened a fraction. I didn’t need that hint to know his mother just sliced through the bodice of my dress.
“I liked this dress,” I informed him, frowning. Luckily the dress was only cut and mostly stayed put.
His mother gripped a handful of my black hair, arching me back. “The next cut will be through your flesh, human,” she hissed for all to hear.
The thing about being called human… it genuinely offended me now. My twin always had more time for them. Me? They’d been like little dolls who always did anything I’d wanted. Fun at the start, then so fucking boring. I’d kept up the pretense of Queen Bee with them because Tempest wanted to work her weaving magic, but I’d never understand how Tempest had so much genuine time and care for them. She’d even found the occasional one attractive.
I likened taking one to bed to screwing a blow-up doll. If you couldn’t get a real-life partner, then go for it. Not my cup of tea. Then again, Tempest got the chief of the magus power, and I’d received the chief of the demon power. We had a littleof the other power in us, but not enough to do much with. I had my divination intuition, and she… well, I had no idea. I’d only just figured out there was something different about me when Carmine killed them all.
Mother be,the craziness of that hit me all over again. I wassitting next to my family’s murderer, and that should repulse me, yet all I felt was a deep fear that I wouldn’t pull off everything I needed to.
