In spite of it all, I was actually smiling at Zayn walking beside me, as I held his hand.
Since we’d arrived at the mammoth subterranean labyrinths of black marble and yellow-and-green veined stone, he’d been looking all around in awe.
The regal, cathedral-like curved halls that resembled the interior of a serpent’s coil. The bioluminescent minerals and alchemical fire orbs that cast a warm subterranean glow. The walls resonating with the energy he’d recognized as being thatwhich charged the Sunveil enchantments that were infused in an object that each Basilisk wore on their person. He’d called the Basilisk Dominion“giant, polished, and super aristocratic.”I’d also warned him to refer to the tunnels as passageways, or he’d find himself on the receiving end of a great deal of attitude. My people didn’t like to think of themselves as residing underground like burrowing prey, but as choosing to craft a majestic and regal kingdom in a safeguarded space. Semantics being what they were.
We reached the heart of the labyrinth deep beneath the Dominion’s primary city, walking the last passageway that would bear entry to the Throne Room of the Crown Palace.
The ceiling curved overhead with a luminous mural depicting a collage of previous impressive battles won by our people. The dark stone floor was glossed and reflective. Gold veining ran in parallel lines along the floor and walls, marking a processional path straight ahead.
As we passed on by another guard wearing an armored breastplate and bracers—a moss green with yellow serpentine markings—standing rigidly against the wall, Zayn gave her a smile and a chin lift. I’d explained to him that they couldn’t respond, and were to remain effectively motionless, but he continued to do it anyway, being his exuberant charming self.
“What you’re about to hear in here is a political game I’ve been playing to protect us. Things aren’t what they seem, and they can’t be in front of the High Empress and Emperor Consort.”
“You mean your parents?”
“Sure.”
His eyes darted around, before coming back to me. “Are you positive they can’t hear what we’re saying? You know, with Basilisk supernatural hearing being what it is?”
“So long as you remain holding my hand, not a single syllable will be registered.” I was using vibrational resonance to create an imperceptible vortex around us that captured sound waves from any words spoken, and distorted them beyond us.
“Usually you use the regularauditory reductionspell,” he pointed out. “I didn’t know you could do this.”
“Only here. I’m using the makeup of the walls to see to it.”
“That’s really fucking cool, Vax.”
“Why, thank you, my darling little Ifrit.”
He chuckled, just like I’d wanted, needing to take some of the tension away and put him at ease before things… intensified.
He gave my hand a squeeze. “And, just so you know, whatever lies or half-truths you’ve told them, I’ll never doubt that your loyalty lies with the four of us. You don’t need to justify it to me, or warn me.” His eyes sparkled at me. “I’m here for you. Here with you, all right?”
“I know you are, Zayn.” I pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. “Thank you. It means a great deal to me.”
I looked him over again. He’d put on a dress shirt just for this—a black and pink marble design, along with a pair of black studded leather pants. He’d even asked me to style his hair for him more like mine—rigid and without a single hair out of place, not his usual wild and more mussed look. I’d told him that he didn’t need to perform for them—that was my curse only to bear. I hadn’t wanted him to feel like he needed to tone himself down. But he’d insisted that he wanted to“make an awesomely good impression.”
“And just so we’re clear, I do get what it’s like. You and me… we have this shit in common.”
“What’s that?”
“The thing we both play off.”
I arched an eyebrow.
“Our parents. That it hurts deep in our bones that they can’t love us the way we need.”
I swallowed.
He nuzzled against me and breathed at my ear, “But fuck all that now that we have each other.” He eased back, grinning. “Am I right?”
A smile spread over my face. “Fuck it, indeed.”
His eyes flashed.Oh no.
He blinked and shook his head to himself. “Shit, sorry. It just really turns me the hell on when you say the word ‘fuck’. It’s so rare and raw, and fucking—”
I pressed my hand to his mouth. “Understood. But I need you to take it down, or I’ll be slamming you up against the nearest surface, tearing your tight little pants off and sinking so very deliciously deep inside you.”
