“Found him in the passages,” Marcus replied in a low tone.
Isaac had gone back on his word. A knot twisted low in Whichello’s gut, feeding the storm of treachery. The only person he’d been able to trust was Marcus, but even then not fully. You didn’t climb to Whichello’s level of power without stockpiling enemies. Instead of remembering the deception surrounding him, he’d foolishly trusted the sincerity in those amethyst eyes.
The lie didn’t spark a scene, just a slow draw of breath Whichello couldn’t stop. The promise might’ve been empty words to Isaac, but it had meant something to Whichello.
Jaw clenched tight, he headed toward Isaac’s bedroom.
“I wasn’t finished.” Marcus stepped in his path, something the enforcer had never done before. “There’s something you need to know.”
“What could you possibly say that would lessen the pain of his betrayal?” Whichello realized his mistake too late. He cursed and stepped a few feet away from Marcus. “Lessen the betrayal” was what he’d meant to say. Goddamn it.
“Before you go barging in there accusing him of lying to you, he didn’t—”
“He was in the passages!” Whichello bellowed. “What does he have to do, stick a toe outside the castle to prove his intent?”
“He had a fucking panic attack!” Marcus shot back. “Full breakdown because he thought Dimitri had escaped.” His nostrils flared, face pulled tight. “He wasn’t trying to escape. He had the munchies and was heading to the kitchen.”
“Through the passages?” With a slight growl, Whichello took a step toward Marcus, telling himself not to murder the only person he could almost trust. “He wanted snacks, and instead of you getting them for him, you decided to offer him up to a murder castle?”
Marcus looked at him as if Whichello had lost his mind. It sure as hell felt like he had. “You think Ilethim take the murder route? No disrespect, boss, but I’d offer you as sacrifice before Isaac. I’d offer every single demon in this place before him. Isaac’s pretty cool to hang out with. Unlike everyone here who act as if laughing is punishable by death.”
Whichello’s jaw tightened. The enforcer had never spoken to him this way in five centuries of service. Yet he stood there defending Isaac with a ferocity that bordered on insubordination. He should tear out the demon’s throat for such disrespect. Instead, he found himself... grateful. With Azariah lurking in every corner and Dimitri awaiting execution, Whichello couldn’t afford to alienate the one demon who seemed as invested in Isaac’s safety as he was.
Centuries of bloodshed had taught Whichello to fear nothing, to hesitate for no one. Yet the thought of those amethyst eyes clouded with fear hollowed Whichello out in ways no battlefield ever had.
The castle walls held too many enemies already. Twenty-seven demons called Annunziata Castle their home, and they wouldn’t surrender these walls without bloodshed.
“Post two guards. Ones who understand if they let anything happen to Isaac, they’ll join Dimitri’s fate.” Already he felt eyes on them. Whether Azariah or another demon, he wasn’t sure. But if anyone was foolish enough to come after Isaac again, Whichello would carve their end into the stars themselves.
Chapter Six
The doorknob turned with deliberate slowness, and Isaac braced when Whichello entered the room. Every instinct screamed that the demon was going to blow his top over the passage incident. Marcus must have told him everything.
But instead of the explosion Isaac expected, he watched Whichello’s every leisurely step toward the window. Something was wrong with this picture. Where was the fury? The demands for explanations?
Whichello clasped his hands behind his back, staring contemplatively out the dark window. His posture and expression radiated a bone-deep weariness that Isaac had never seen before. Power seemed to bleed from the demon’s frame like water from a cracked vessel.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The silence stretched until Isaac’s nerves couldn’t take it anymore.
“Why did you buy me at that auction?” The words tumbled out before he could stop them.
Whichello remained quiet, contemplative. When he finally spoke, his voice came out low and subdued. “I wasn’t sure then.” He still kept his back to Isaac. “Loneliness, spite, or maybe you were a reflection of myself. Hollowed out.”
Isaac’s chest tightened at the raw honesty in those words.
“Maybe by purchasing you, I’d hoped to regain a piece of my own soul.” The confession hung in the air between them. “I didn’t buy you with the intent of sex.”
Whichello’s brows dipped as he grew pensive. “Shifters know their mates almost immediately.”
Still, he didn’t look Isaac’s way. Anxiety climbed up Isaac’s spine like ice-cold fingers. Whichello knew. Demons didn’t discover who their mate was until they had sex, but somehow, this demon had figured it out. How? How long had he suspected the truth?
“Tell me, Isaac.” Whichello’s subdued tone never wavered. “Are we mates?”
Isaac’s throat closed. Fear paralyzed his vocal cords, because what if Whichello became enraged for Isaac holding back the truth? Every fiber of his being wanted to trust this demon, but Whichello’s reputation, the way he constantly demanded instead of asking, and most of all, the fact that he’d purchased Isaac like property… All of it kept Isaac’s walls firmly in place.
“You don’t have to answer,” Whichello said quietly. “Already know the truth. Do you fear me, little panda?”
This moment held no humor, no teasing edge. Just raw vulnerability that made Isaac’s heart stutter.
