Page 16 of Tortured Royals

“It’s all right,” he tells me.

It’s then that I notice the guards are standing at attention, their spears positioned by their sides. They’re alert and watchful, but it’s obvious they’re waiting for Prince Callan’s next order.

“Word of your arrival is on its way to the queen, my prince,” a guard barks. “It is good to see you home.”

“You as well, Tyros,” Prince Callan says with a thin smile.

The guards watch intently as the rest of my mates step from the portal, but none of the guards move into offensive positions.

I stare up at the huge dome structure before us. The palace is made of white stone with intricate patterns of gold painted over its entire surface. The small windows situated at intervals, spiral up the structure, looking like a pathway of stars climbing the glittering stone, and armored guards line the entire bridge and the circular perimeter of the palace.

“Whoa,”Shade gasps, clearly as awed as I am. Back home, the demon castle is a fortress, all sharp edges and dark stone, but this palace is like a work of art.

“It’s somethin’ isn’t it?” Nate says, stopping beside me and planting his hands on his hips as he peers up.

Turning my head, I stare out at the city where hundreds of angels follow flight paths above marshmellow houses, moving quickly in neat, efficient lines. “You’ve got that right,” I mutter.

“We should go,” Prince Callan prompts, and he shouts an order to the guards. They step back, moving to their places along the bridge, and we stride down the stone path toward the front of the palace. The wind whistles in my ears, tugging at my wings, but Prince Callan lifts his hand, sending out a burst of power. Instantly the air calms, and we walk the rest of the way in silence.

When we reach the front entrance, the guards stationed there salute the prince and move to the side, opening the doors for us. We walk into a gilded entrance hallway that’s just as grand as the outside of the palace, and I gape at the portraits of the angels onthe walls. There are hundreds of them, each painting kept in a large golden frame, with an inscription underneath. Before I can read any of the words, Prince Callan leads us forward, into the heart of the palace.

“Your highness,” a maid with flowing silver hair approaches quickly, bowing low. “Is there anything I can get you?”

“Not this time, thank you, Ivy,” Prince Callan says, passing her without a glance. He takes us to the bottom of a flight of steps, and I peer up at the spiraling staircase, which reaches as high as I can see. It curves around, leaving open space in the center of the building where other angels follow orderly flight paths to get to different sections of the palace.

“We should walk,” Prince Callan says, taking the first step.

“Or we could fly. Surely between us we can carry everyone,” I suggest.

Prince Callan’s gaze darts to the closest angels, then he focuses his attention back on me. “I think it would be better if the shifters remain in human form for now.”

I frown, wondering if he’s referring to Nate’s cat form, but then his gaze flicks to Mason, and I understand his meaning. Parading a winged centaur in the middle of the palace, a creature unknown to the angels, would likely draw unwanted attention.

“Walking it is,” I say.

Prince Callan takes us up the stairs, and it doesn’t escape my attention that we’re the only ones on the narrow staircase. Every angel, including the servants, distinguished by their pale blue robes, fly to the different floors. Considering the lack of a handrail, and the nearly perilous narrow stairway, I get the feeling that the golden stairs were merely an afterthought when the building was constructed.

“Well, now we know where Prince Callan gets it from,”Shade comments as angels fly past us in almost perfectsynchronization, each with intense gazes like their minds are solely focused on whatever task they intend to carry out.

I think of how cold Prince Callan has been toward me, and I twist my head back to ask Nate a question. The shifter is staring at my ass, and he grins like he’s been caught out. “What? Can’t blame me for lookin’.”

I roll my eyes, grinning, before asking him seriously, “Are all the angels like this?”

“Like what?”

I gesture with my head to the angels soaring past us. “So…focused.”

He chuckles. “Oh, that. Yeah, the queen runs a tight operation.”

“Operation? He makes it sound like a military camp,”Shade chimes in.

“This isn’t what I expected the palace to look like,” I admit. “I thought the queen likes to party?”

“Oh, she does,” Nate confirms. “It’s just her idea of a party involves torturin’ her prisoners in front of the angel population to showcase her strength.”

My brows rise. “Torture?”

“Can’t say I made it to the party where I was gonna be the guest of honor, but I hear there’s drinkin’ and singin’ involved, too.”

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