This felt comfortable. Natural, as if this was where I’d always belonged, and it wasn’t until I embraced it that I realized how transient it was.
This training was a necessity, not a luxury. If Bronwen’s attempts to hide us failed, we’d find ourselves alone, surrounded without the support of Sitri’s soldiers. We would only have each other to rely on. I couldn’t afford to be a liability if that happened, not like I’d been at the gorge, and again when we faced Mara.
“How long do we have?” I asked. “Before Vapula’s army comes.”
The question hung for a moment before Sitri answered, “Two days, if Bronwen’s timing is correct. Tomorrow night, we will shelter and prepare for battle.”
The blood drained from my face. I thought we had more time.
“It’s okay to be afraid, darling.” Sitri must have seen my expression change or felt my emotions through his magic. “I have anxieties of my own as well. What matters is that we press on despite those fears. We cannot allow them to consume us.”
“Right,” I muttered, unsure of what else to say.
No one could master the art of combat in two weeks, no matter how hard they tried, and I was no exception. Mara’s wound had robbed me of several critical days. Many more were lost to my own resistance, my refusal to be bound.
When the battle started, would I falter? Or would I prove competentenough to protect those I now held dear?
There was no way to know until the time finally came, and that was what scared me most of all.
Sitri and I filed into the dining room. The other demons had already taken their seats. Bronwen sat to the right of Sitri’s place at the head of the table, arms crossed. The seat across from her remained empty—presumably reserved for me. To the left of that empty chair was Apollo, whose warm, genuine smile contrasted with Bronwen’s eternally obnoxious attitude. Decorative plates boasting a plethora of dishes had been set out. There were roast meats, stews, mushrooms, breads, bottles of drinking oils, and a glass of wine each, though the bottle was absent.
The aromas of spices and dressings filled the air, but beneath the scents of the feast, a sour undertone festered. This was not a joyous occasion. Only hours remained until Vapula came knocking at our door, prepared to lay siege to Lantyca. Clearly, none of us were ready. Neither of the seated demons had touched the food, their plates still empty and clean. They’d waited for us. I expected that from Apollo, but Bronwen… This was new, coming from her.
Sitri pulled out my chair, and I sat. Apollo wrapped his arm around me in an awkward, seated side hug. The Prince snorted his amusement and claimed his place at the head of the table. Apollo released me, gave me a weary smile, and then all heads turned towards Sitri.
He cleared his throat. “I hope you lot don’t expect a speech. I won’t be giving one.”
“That’s a surprise,” Bronwen said. “So formal, so impersonal, not even enough wine for a party—and you didn’t bother with a speech? You’re losing your edge, Sitri.”
My muscles tightened, but before I spoke up, Apollo loosed a deep, hearty laugh that broke the tension.
He threw a grin in Sitri’s direction. “I like her. She’s staying if wewin, right? Please tell me she’s staying.”
Bronwen matched Apollo’s smile. “As much as it would pain me to leave you with these pensive assholes, Haagenti wants me back. A real shame. This is the most action I’ve seen in decades.”
Pensive assholes?I shot a glance at Sitri, only to find him smiling, too.
I shook my head and sighed. “Got any more wine?”
Bronwen, who had raised her glass to drink, nearly choked.
The Prince’s smile deepened. “It would be unwise to offer it, darling. They might seem friendly now, but a little alcohol would see them at each other’s throats. Let us eat before they manage to secure it themselves.”
Sitri served himself, and his guests followed suit. The food looked delicious, and my stomach growled, but the way they talked, as if the future stretched out wide before us, and we didn’t stand at the precipice of a battle that could claim all our souls… The grim reality killed my appetite.
This might be the last time I saw them. And here they were, making merry, pretending everything was fine. I felt the tension in the air, sensed the swirling desires that circled Sitri and Apollo, thanks to my magic. They must have sensed mine, too. I almost envied Bronwen, whose unique talents spared her from the anxieties present at the table.
I served myself a modest portion of a carved, ham-like meat and took some flatbread I hoped would soothe my stomach. Then, I looked up, and my eyes met Bronwen’s. The demoness scrutinized me under her crimson gaze.
Maybe I’d been too harsh on her. She’d gotten under my skin; that was no secret. But I hadn’t exactly been pleasant company, either. Bronwen still came to our aid, petitioned for her superior’s support on our behalf. Sat around the table with us in the calm before the storm.
Sitri trusted her. Apollo even seemed tolikeher. She was one of us, no matter how I felt about her.
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I broke our stare. “Thank you for helping us, Bronwen. I know how big a risk you’re taking. It means more to me than I’ve been giving you credit for.”
The Prince raised his eyebrows, and Bronwen cocked her head to the side.
“Oh? Someone’s finally thankingme?And here I was, thinking Hell would freeze over before I got any recognition. Take note, Sitri. I could get used to this.”
