Page 20 of Tortured Royals

“I wish you would stop calling them that.”

She continues rambling, but I don’t hear a word she says. I’m busy staring at Prince Callan as his expression closes off, and his muscles harden like he’s preparing for battle. He turns from us and strides the rest of the way to the double doors.

Dante’s hand rests on the small of my back. “He may be right,” the demon says quietly against my ear. “We could return home knowing that we’d tried to convince the angel queen. King Dalton himself didn’t succeed. He’ll understand.”

I roll my shoulders back and stare into Dante’s midnight-blue eyes. “We can’t leave him.”

~ Prince Callan ~

Whenever Queen Vespera peers at Blake, I want to gouge the queen’s eyes out. I hate my mother’s attention on myAhalian Touizda.My mate. I can see the queen’s mind working as sheassesses Blake, no doubt trying to determine the best way to break the demon, and how to use the princess to her advantage.

The invitation to attend the party was more of a command than it was a request, but I’d still hoped Blake would refuse. I’d hoped she would see the queen for what she was and know that the words spilling from the queen’s lips were simply lies spun to ensnare her.

But Blake had agreed.

My promise to my younger sister, Mirelle, surfaces to the forefront of my mind, and with every step I take toward the ballroom, I can feel everything inside me unraveling.

For years, I’ve endured the queen, caught in her trap like so many others. Everything the queen has asked of me, I’ve given, but now Blake is shaking the foundation of all that I’ve worked toward.

The walls are closing in, and I feel that vice around my neck closing. Because I won’t lose my sister, but I won’t lose my mate either.

The others don’t realize it, but blood will spill tonight. And I’ll make sure it’s by my blade.

~ Princess Blake ~

“Holy moly, this place is gorgeous,”Shade says in my head, her beady eyes taking in the giant ballroom.

There must be hundreds of angels in attendance, all dressed in sparkling garments with an array of piercings and jewellery. A giant harp sits to one side of the room, the strings being plucked by invisible fingers to create an intricate melody, and puffs ofwispy white clouds blanket the floor, making it feel as though we’re in the sky.

Across the room, Queen Vespera sits on a golden throne, and her gaze finds us when we walk forward, the clouds stirring around our feet as we move. Thankfully, unlike the clouds in her office, nothing bad happens when we walk through these ones, but the queen smiles as she watches us.

A server walks by with a golden tray of drinks, and I take a glass and raise it into the air, smiling at the queen.

Queen Vespera lifts her own glass, returning the gesture, and Prince Callan glares at me.

“Don’t drink that,” Alaric growls, no doubt saying what Prince Callan is thinking.

My smile doesn’t falter, and I keep my eyes on the queen as I reply carefully. “Relax, I wasn’t planning to.”

“Wait, why can’t we drink it?” Nate says, pulling his mouth back from his own goblet. A droplet of liquid hangs from the side of his lips, and he peers at us sheepishly. “I’m not goin’ to die, right?”

“How the fuck you got your nickname is beyond me,” Alaric growls.

We all stare at Nate, but moments pass, and nothing happens. The shifter licks his lips. “Not quite as good as that stuff you brought me last time we were here, Callan, but it’s not bad. Not bad at all.”

Prince Callan glowers at the shifter.

“Is it poisoned?” I ask the archangel, knowing full well that not all ingested poisons show symptoms straight away.

Alaric snatches the goblet from Nate, and he dips his head, ducking behind Mason as he sniffs the remnants in the cup. “Not poisoned,” he growls.

My shoulders loosen, and I slap Nate on the chest. “Can youtryto stay alive tonight?”

“What? I figure she wouldn’t have coaxed us here simply to poison us,” Nate defends. “The queen likes a spectacle when it comes to her enemies.”

“Enemies? I thought we were supposed to be her guests,” Mason comments.

Prince Callan straightens the collar of his shirt. “The shifter is right. Using poison isn’t the queen’s style. But I don’t suggest you drink the wine. It’s strong, and we’ll need our wits about us.”

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