“I’ll prepare the messenger to see you in your throne room,” Tauren’s adviser says, stepping out of the carriage. His name is Kennix, apparently. Or at least that’s how Tauren kept referring to him as they spoke in angry, hushed whispers the entire journey back.
Tauren nods. “I’ll be waiting for him.”
I don’t know who Lord Elheart’s messenger brought with them to the castle. I can only assume it’s not someone Tauren wants to see, based on the tight set of his jaw. Even Claren seems especially nervous, not daring to answer any of my questions since we left the gown shop.
The pretty orb lights of the night market suddenly feel very far away.
“Claren, take the dog,” Tauren orders, leaving the carriage.
I almost hold her tighter until Tauren shoots me a look that makes my whimper match Pumpkin’s.
After passing her over to Claren, I follow Tauren outside, but it’s hard to keep up with his furious strides.
“Slow down,” I wheeze.
With a scowl, he slows down a little. But he doesn’t speak, or even look at me until we’re outside two giant oak doors that I assume lead to the throne room.
As the horned guards heave them open, he finally turns to me.
“What’s happening?” I ask, hating the weakness in my voice.
“Your fiancé is not playing by my terms,” he bites out. “The fool assumes he can just buy you back from me, as if any price could ever be high enough to repay what he stole.”
“What does that mean? What are you going to do?” I pull my cloak tighter.
“I will have to remind him what is at stake here.”
I don’t like the anger in his tone. Or the way he won’t meet my gaze.
But all I can do is hurry after him as he charges into the throne room.
Demons bow to us, or I suppose more to him as he marches down the long, crimson carpet. My knees shake with every step behind his imposing form.
We’re in the same dark-walled throne room I landed in on the night I arrived here. Iron chandeliers light up the regal clothing of the demon nobility filling the hall. Near the back of the room is a huge throne. Its carved obsidian back gleams in the candlelight, while huge black pillars stand guard on either side, holding up the vast, ebony ceiling.
I had no doubt when I first opened my eyes here that I was in a castle full of monsters. And as Tauren takes a seat inhis throne, sweeping his furious gaze over his court – the word monster is all I can think about.
“Come here,” he compels me.
The other demons in the hall fall silent. All eyes follow me as I move under their lord’s spell.
When I reach him, he hooks his finger around the clasp of my cloak. For a moment, I wonder if he’ll pull me into his lap, and my heart flutters. But then his hands drop to my hips, and he twists me around, ripping the cloak from my shoulders.
Eyes attack me from every direction.
I gasp, covering my exposed belly.
“Kneel,” he commands. I barely hear him over the roaring of blood in my ears.
His magic makes my legs crumple, and I drop to my knees at his boots. This dress didn’t feel so revealing back at the gown shop – if anything, I wanted it to be more scandalous. But now, with demons leering at me from every direction, I may as well be wearing nothing at all.
“Tauren, please.” I glance up at him, but the demon lord ignores me.
Signalling a nearby servant, he swipes a goblet from a tray. “Summon the messenger,” he says, taking a sip of his wine.
While the servant hurries off, Tauren keeps his gaze fixed on the double doors. I take that as my cue to give up on searching for any of the warmth he gave me only an hour ago.
Clearly, I’m his prisoner now.
