Carmine’s hand had tensed on the arm of his throne at his mother’s words, and I made sure not to so much as hold my breath. The ballroom was dead quiet when I released smoke from my scalp. Masked by my black hair, I curled my power around Athira’s fingers, focusing with everything I had to keep wisps from floating up and alerting anyone but myself, Carmine, and his mother to what was going on.
“Find another seat, Athira,” I commanded.
My smoke had to be blistering her flesh. His mother didn’t have many gaps in her scales left. One of the gaps existed in the web of her thumb and forefinger. I drove my smoke into that area, feeling skin peel back from my power. I funneled into tendon and joint and cartilage. Then I started for her circulatory system.
I may not be a better fighter than this woman, but—to my surprise, andlikely hers—my power was stronger. Her crimson smoke sizzled as it met mine, dying back as I neared her blood vessels. Once I got there, poisoning her entire body would be easy. At that point, she wouldn’t be able to mask her reaction, and if I decided to, I could kill her.
Athira released my hair, tucking her hand behind the other. “You may have this seat for now.”
I looked into her crimson eyes and couldn’t decipher a thing. I could have gloated, but she’d lost face big time. Saying nothing and dismissing her was the wisest course.
“You have learned much, enamai,” Carmine said as his mother sat on his other side, dislodging Gratia to the next chair. “Your grandfather could not have taught you these skills.”
My grandfather wasn’t powerful enough. “Not my grandfather, no.”
His hand gripped at the arm of his throne once more. “Then who? Those who are powerful enough to do so live in this fortress.”
Keep your enemies close, after all. The demon part of me understood that. But therealityof that was another issue. The idea that enemies had to be your only friends was so foreign to how I’d been raised. Or maybe friendship was foreign in general.
But Carmine wasn’t particularly worried about me hatching plans with a powerful enemy… he was worried the powerful enemy was male. I’d hidden from Carmine for years, and our mating made him a jealous sonofabitch.Hewas the one to teach me all these tricks. I’d seen Carmine do any number of things—such as controlling the trajectory of his smoke and only releasing from certain areas of his body. Then I’d dedicated hours and hours of practice to mastery as I struggled to control my lust.
“He lives here,” I answered.
Cracks appeared in Carmine’s throne as he squeezed the armrest.
“Or maybe I taught myself,” I purred. “Which would you believe?”
“If you hold power, then you are capable of controlling it. Though many don’t strive to.”
“Lust has plagued us both. To cope, I spent time with my power, and you spent time with your obsession.”
“What is my obsession, Syera?” He released the throne. “You, perhaps?”
I snorted. “If you were anyone other than yourself, perhaps, but you were mated to someone else far before I arrived.”
He’d stilled. “There is no one else for me.”
I hadn’t meant a person. I’d referred to his mating with the realm.
I caught the flicker in his gray eyes when I faced him. “I worked on my power, and you spent time driving demon gates closer to the Earth territories of other supernaturals.”
His mother’s sharp gaze was upon me. She’d given far more away than Carmine.
“You are close, I take,” I murmured.
“Does the movement of the gates have something to do with you playing Tiers?” he asked, eyes glittering with ice.
“Would I have brought up the gates if so? You’ve killed everyone I loved on Earth. I would not choose to burn it, but I hold no illusions about who you are.”
“We must feed. To conquer more territory is to bring us strength, you stupid girl,” his mother chimed in.
I’d risen fromhumantostupid girl.Next thing we’d be baking Christmas cookies together.
Demons were well fed from their current territory. There was no need for anything larger. “Obviously, demons should not starve, Athira,” I answered, watching one of the demons dancing for me. He wore a loincloth in essence, but a fancy one that went all the way to the ground. Was he implying that his cock extended to the ground too? I had a feeling so.
The crimson male shot a look to my left, and hastily retreated at what I could assume was a lethal look from Carmine. Plenty of women danced for Carmine, and I left them to it, only feeling a jolt of shame that the show used to make me so livid with jealousy.
“You should applaud your king’s efforts to keep us invincible,” his mother spoke again.
