I got word this morning from a servant that my guards—or rather what remains of them—were successful on their endeavor. The task at hand was to track and locate a Nephilim, horrid and vile creatures set on claiming Mescos as their own. We’ve been tracking a group that branched off from the others, lurking too close to my border.
My guards tracked one down. But not to kill, no. A dead Nephilim is useless to me. Their instructions were clear. Bring the creature to me.Alive.
And now, if the information I was given is to be believed, and I have no reason to think otherwise, a Nephilim is imprisoned in the dungeon below the castle.
Which is a reason to smile.
As eager as I am to visit the cursed beast caged in my dungeon, Ender and my human bride will be here soon. I push myself off the uncomfortable throne, rolling my shoulders.
“Garvan, come with me.” I make my way back across the room. More drinks and aphrodisiacs are passed from demon to demon, heightening an already frenzied sex party.
“Where are we going, sir?” Garvan follows behind me like a shadow, mimicking my path to the doors. A man reaches out, running a hand down my courtier’s chest. Garvan tenses before pushing off his advance andquickening his step to stay close to me. It would be amusing if it wasn’t so pathetic. Garvan’s avoidance of touch is part of the reason he’s so rigid. A good fuck would loosen him right up, but alas, he seems content with a life of celibacy.
“To meet Ender, of course. You're to be my wife’s babysitter.”
Garvan stops talking after that and follows me to the courtyard in silence.
Chapter 4
Isabelle
The Guardian’s backyard feels like an enchanted forest. Lush green grass softens my footfalls. Rose bushes with blood-red buds line the back of his cottage, creating a cozy atmosphere. Flowers in various shades of blues, pinks, and yellows line his flowerbeds. White trellises with tangled green vines sit behind the beds, acting as a fence for his property.
It’s…cute.
But looking at the stone-colored man with horns, it feels out of place.
I keep pace with The Guardian and nearly run into his solid form from behind when he stops abruptly. “This portal is the only way for me to travel and transport you at the same time.” His deep timbre sends shivers down my spine, demanding obedience.
The Guardian waves his hand in front of an archway covered in flowers. A white shimmer appears, soft at first before blinking into existence. Despite myself, I gasp. It’sone thing knowing The Guardian is supernatural, and an entirely different thing seeing himbesupernatural.
Better get used to it. This will be my new life.
“Come.” With his command, I follow The Guardian through the shimmery veil. A deep chill overcomes my body, and I get a sense of floating. The world changes in rapid succession around me. It’s disorienting and confusing. A smoky haze. But just as quickly as it comes, the world around me settles, even as my stomach churns, threatening to be sick.
“Are you well?” The Guardian’s voice grounds me, giving me something to focus on other than the nauseated feeling in my belly.
“Never been better.” My voice is laced with sarcasm. Either my companion doesn’t hear it or ignores it, because he gestures for me to follow.
My eyes dart around my surroundings, taking in my new home. The night sky is painted in darkening shades of blue and purple. A moon sits high in the sky, casting a glow around us, making visibility possible, albeit barely.
The wind nips at my bare arms, making me wish I remembered to grab a coat. Though I doubt it would have fit in my backpack. The air is heavy with the earthy smell of rain tainted by something foul…sulfur, maybe.
We follow a dark brick path up a hill. It’s too dark to see what awaits us when we reach the top. Black, twisted trees bent in grotesque shapes with bare branches resembling bony fingers line the path. Yellow and red eyes watch me in the darkness but don’t approach. They lie in wait as if they’ve come here to see the spectacle of me meeting my husband. Fear prickles in the back of mymind, but I push it away. I doubt fear will serve me well here. It seems like the kind of place that feeds off it. Perhaps my husband does too.
Husband. Such a foul thought.
My breaths come in pants as we continue up the narrow, winding path. The demon king couldn’t spring for a damn ride? Already, I’m annoyed with him. “How much longer?” I pant, struggling to keep up with The Guardian.
“Nearly there,” he replies, not offering any more.
“Nearly there” was another fifteen minutes of hiking up this damn hill until lit torches replaced the trees, illuminating the castle ahead, surrounded by a moat of dark water.
The castle rises at the end of the path, its silhouette a jagged horror against the darkening sky. The outer walls are made of obsidian, with veins of fiery red running through them, like magma caught in stone. In a way, it reminds me of a volcano. Towers pierce the sky, twisted spires that bend in on themselves. The castle feels alive, like a creature more than a structure. The air around it hums with an unsettling energy.
The Guardian approaches the gate, and it opens automatically, revealing a courtyard. The ground is cobbled. The uneven stones are dark with age and slick with moisture from the shadows. Patches of moss sprout between the stones, soft and bright green against the gloom.
In the heart of the courtyard stands a large fountain. It’s dry and cracked, nearly eroded, but I make out the grand pillar in the middle. It was probably once beautifuland spouted water but is now overrun with ivy and moss.
