“Is that so?” I rise from my chair and begin to pace, the hem of my long cloak sweeping the floor. A while ago, I learned in a Kings’ Council meeting that the Stone King had found some way to bring Omegas to Ulfaria, but nobody knew how many there were—or where they could be found, since the magicians had miscalculated and scattered them across the planet. That golden buffoon Aurus merely told me his warriors were searching for the missing females. I never did get an update on that—probably because Aurus only cares about Aurus, and he already has his Omega.
Then I received an invitation from Medela, inviting me to some ball, so it seems King Bestian, too, has found a queen. Since I didn’t attend, I don’t know whether his new mate is also one of these Hoo-man Omegas, but it’s likely.
Could this random gift from Solum truly be an Omega? A real one? I close my eyes, trying to recall every detail of the ones I saw at the council meetings. They all seemed tiny, although the orbs do distort size somewhat. Perhaps I should have bestirred myself to attend in person for once.
Ah well. Too late now.
“Prepare my chambers,” I order thejynx. “Fresh bedding—oh, and lay out some refreshments fitting for an Omega—whatever Aurus feeds his queen.” Just in case this Omega is one of the Hoo-mans the Stone King brought over. Thejynxcan search the magicians’ records for more information on suitable food and drink. “I’m off to collect my gift.” Unwilling to wait one more moment, I shuck off my cloak and let my wings unfold as I stride to the extra-large window I had built into the wall of my quarters, which are on the upmost levels of the castle. I like to have an exit in every room.
I generally detest surprises, but this one could be interesting.
We shall see.
Two
Renee
I’ve lostall sense of time. The suns have shifted slightly, no longer blazing directly onto my bare skin, which I’m grateful for, but I’m still tied to a fucking tree like the bimbo lead in a second-rate horror movie. At least the wind has suppressed the plumes of ash so I can breathe. The smoke trails from the volcano have thinned.
The initial panic has subsided a little, and I’ve had a lot of time to think. Not sure if that’s a good thing. I’ve tried and tried to remember what I was doing before I fell asleep/passed out/died and went to alien hell, but I just can’t. Considering my outfit, I definitely wasn’t in bed asleep, nor was I at work. But there are still so many other options…
Shopping, driving, getting a mani-pedi, chilling with a book, getting coffee with a friend… none of them would ordinarily lead to this particular situation. This is real life, after all.
Then again, maybe it’s not. Maybe I’ve managed to teleport myself into some steamy monster romance novel, like an X-rated version ofThe Neverending Story. Lately, my book boyfriends have been more Beast than Prince Charming—minotaurs, orcs, even a Kraken—although I haven’t yet tried a demon.
If he shows up, you might get your chance, I think, then tell that cynical, resort-to-humor-in-any-difficult-situation voice to shut the hell up.This ain’t the time for jokes, as my mom used to say.
God, though, what if he does show up?
What if he doesn’t?
I’m pretty screwed either way. There’s no guarantee this Demon King won’t just kill me. His own people refer to him asHis Evilness.
“We’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto,” I say aloud. Maybe I’m having a nervous breakdown, like my Aunt Nettie when her husband upped and left. I used to think that wholeI’m going out to get cigarettesthing was some kind of urban legend, until it happened to my family. My auntie’s husband did just that—told her he was heading to the store, and never came back. He just vanished, like he never even existed. Poof. Gone.
As crappy as Phillip was as a husband, at least he had the decency totellme he wanted a divorce. To stay in communication with me through the whole process. We even still follow each other on social media. And in my darkest days during that separation, when I found myself sobbing in bed in the middle of the night, wondering if that was it for me romantically and I was going to die alone, I often comforted myself with that little thought: at least I was getting closure. Unlike poor Nettie.
Life doesn’t give you what you want. You get what you get, and you have to make the best of it. When life gives me lemons, I make margaritas. I prefer them with lime, but lemon is better than nothing.
I would freaking kill for a cocktail right now. My arms are beginning to ache, spread-eagled as I am, and I’m getting groggy. Dehydration? Or just exhaustion? How long have I been tied up here? What isexposure, anyway? You hear of people getting lost out in the wilderness and dying of exposure. Is that the same thing as dying of hunger and thirst? Does everyone have constant random thoughts, or is it just me?
The ground rumbles beneath my tied feet. The lake pulses like it's going to slop over its edges. I shrink back against the tree, praying the lava doesn’t flow towards me.
Lava, volcanoes, and now earthquakes. Is this hell, or purgatory? Definitely isn’t heaven.
At least I’m not tied to the top of the volcano. It’s hard enough to breathe down here.
The mini-quake subsides, and the lake’s surface has resumed its former rolling boil. A cool breeze whispers over my face.
Goosebumps prickle over the skin of my arms and legs. I squint across the bubbling expanse of the lake to the gothic-looking turret beyond.
A shadowy shape emerges from the tower and hurtles over the lake. My heart stops.
It’s approaching me—fast. And as it gets closer, my panic increases. It’s big… no, it’s freakinghuge.
A monster.
The Demon King?
