Page 39 of Dating the Dealing Demon

I gesture to the dozens of blazing torches and pits lining the walls. “As opposed to regular fire like the interior designer overdid everywhere else?”

He ignores my sarcasm. “Its fumes can be poisonous to humans. The high ceiling and open archways should provide enough ventilation if you stay away from it.”

“Great. Is everything here trying to kill me?”

“Probably.”

Clusters of demons gather on either side of the brimstone pit, their skin gleaming in the strange firelight. A few have red skin a similar shade to Theo’s. Others range from a sickly pink to a burgundy so dark it borders on black. I count four shades of blue and at least six of green. A slithering grey monster crawls up a thick column, and I don’t want to guess what fat beasts worm along the floor closest to the pit.

The demons differ in size from tiny ones that could ride the miniature unicorn Theo rigged his casino for me to win to a hulking goliath who sulks in the far corner. Some have wings, but those again go from butterfly-small to long, slender feathers that trail behind them like the cape I wear.

Horns come in every shape from Theo’s twisting ones to massive antlers to blade-like spikes that remind me of the dagger strapped to my thigh. Thank goodness Theo let me bring a knife. I’m like a two-pound, toothless chihuahua parading in front of a pack of rabid wolves.

The only similarity they all seem to share is their judgmental glare aimed my direction. If they could laser off my skin withtheir eyes, they would. Fear slides through me, chilling the smothering heat of the flames.

“Friends of yours?” I ask Theo.

“Family.” He turns the word into a curse.

“The same family who tried to kill you?” I whisper. “The same who might have opened the portals?”

“The exact same,” he says.

The crowd parts, and a grotesque throne looms in front of us. It twists upward in a collection of horns, wings, and bones. From between the fanged teeth and hollow eye sockets of skulls, dark flames flicker, casting eerie shadows that dance along the floor in a macabre writhing as if the beings reaped to provide those awful trophies still suffer, trapped in an eternal torment.

I’m opening my mouth to ask Theo to tell me it’s a product of my overactive imagination when his monstrous mommy storms our way. Memories of my last meeting with her flood me—what she called me, when she’d told me I would never be good enough for her son, how she’d dug into my deepest insecurities. That I’ll never measure up. That I’ll never be worthy. I want to curl into a ball with Monty in the tiny bag I carry.

“Theodopolis,” she says on an angry hiss. “You make a mockery of this court by bringing your human pet.”

Pet?Who’s she calling pet? I stiffen my spine, ready to tell this woman whoterrifiesme what I think of her name-calling nastiness when Theo interrupts my suicidal intentions.

“Father ordered me to bring my mate, Mother,” he counters smoothly. “Even if he hadn’t, it’s my right as the crown prince.”

Well, damn. His regalgo fuck yourselfiswaybetter than any insults I’d come up with in the nanosecond I had to think.

Except his mother hasn’t finished. “Not this human. Pick any other mate from all the species in all the realms. But nother. She’s not the one for you.”

That’s it. I’ve done nothing to this woman for her to put me absolute last on the world’s least desirable daughter-in-law list. I mean, I don’t want the title. I glance at Theo. I don’t think. But I don’t want someone finding me unworthy of it, ofhim. “What did I ever do?—”

Theo wraps his wing tighter around me. “What have you done, Mother, to make you so afraid of us being together? Most would celebrate the Fates deciding a mate is worthy of me. They’ve decreed Val to be my destiny?—”

“You ungrateful child,” his mother cuts in, and I see where he gets his interrupting tendencies. I can blame my ADHD brain and misfiring neurotransmitters. What’s her excuse? “I’ve sacrificed everything for you and your sisters, and you can’t even grant me this small favor?”

Theo shakes his head. “Refusing a divine gift is anything but small. Until you answer my question honestly, we’ve nothing to say. Shall we, my love?”

I blink.My love? In that honey-coated, sex-dripping voice? It does things to me I can’t stop to process when we’re in a mob of enemies. Instead of dwelling on the overwhelm of his words and his mother’s hostility, I let him lead me past her toward the throne.

“Maybe we got your worst parent out of the way first?” I whisper.

“Hardly,” he says. “Normally, there would be two other thrones flanking the king’s. As his heir and chief advisor, I am my father’s right hand. My mother would sit on his left.”

The meds help me focus on what he said and sort through possible reasons without the barrage of extra chatter in my mind. I seize on the best option. “Is finding a fated mate really such a big deal here?”

He stops scanning the crowd to let his gaze drift from my eyes to my mouth and back again. “Fated mates are revered.A match can be arranged for anyone, but our kind live for the possibility of being granted a true mate.”

I suddenly want away from this place and back in bed curled against him again so I can feel cherished…if only for a moment, even if it’s only pretend. The scorching heat of the flames reminds me we’re surrounded by monsters who meet the definition in every sense of the word. Theo needs me to be strong, not to fling myself at him and test whatever this attraction is zipping between us.

“So could there be a reason that there’s only one throne is a good thing?” I ask. “Maybe instead of an official court judge and jury thing, this will be more of ayay, you found your mateparty?”

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