Page 64 of Of Vows and War: Special Edition
“No buts!” the high demon boomed, suddenly fierce. “Your world will be destroyed entirely if we don’t find Stella. My priorities are more important than yours.”
“Nothing is more important than Asher,” I hissed in response.
“It seems that’s what every male within five feet of her thinks. Aren’t you curious why?”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, nothing. I’m sure it will come to you eventually. Anyways, I need you to keep Asta’s journals safe.” Her tone was mocking, as if she knew something I did not. “Also, if you somehow manage to pull off your little rescue mission, you should consider utilizing the golden king. He’s what I like to call a weak link.”
“You must care for my son, Milo, in our absence as well,” Torrel said, swinging her head around to face Stassi as she got situated. “He won’t harm him, right?”
“He thinks he’s a big bad demon, but he’s a softie inside. You should see him cry, he’s disgusting, pathetic, and hilarious all at once.” The high demon was using a spike upon the dragon’s back as a sort of backrest, like it was nothing that she sat atop a beast I had thought only existed in stories.
I guessed that to her it was as normal as eating and sleeping. Dragons seemed to have been a major part of her life. Apparently, Torrel thought they would be a big part of my life too, despite the fact I was being insulted in the process.
“Absolutely not. I am not some babysitter and I am already having three mortal children forced upon me like pets. Plus, Nicola could inform us that we are ready to move at any moment.”
A grumble sounded from what must have been deep in Torrel’s throat, the dragon seemingly ready to argue. Or eat me alive. But Stassi smacked her hand on the dragon’s scales, catching the beast’s attention.
“Fine, Milo will come with us. But just know that you’re slowing us down. If you wanted our help, you’re surely not going to get it now.”
With that, Torrel glared at me before snatching her son in her claws. The smaller dragon immediately began biting at his mother’s foot like a possessed menace.
Oh yes, I dodged a sword with that one.
“By the way, I would keep an eye on that golden king if I were you. I know a weak link when I see one.” With that, Stassi leaned down and settled between the dragon’s shoulder blades. In response, Torrel shook out her wings.
Just before she took flight, Torrel leveled her head with me and let out a ferocious roar. Her breath was horrid smelling, like raw meat and blood. Spit flung towards my body, her pointed teeth the size of my arm mere inches from my face. As her wings beat, hot air being forced my way and drying her saliva onto my skin and clothes, I could only say one thing.
“Eternity—if you are there—help us all.”
***
Adbeel smelled of whisky and tears, a lethal combination, but far better than I did the other day even after I bathed. Foul dragon breath.
It seemed that ever since I got the truth of it off my chest, Adbeel had somehow taken my grief and absorbed it. Or maybe that was because I could sense how close I was to having Ash back in my arms.
Perhaps that scared him just as much as it pleased me.
I could not fathom meeting my long-lost granddaughter after two hundred years. Even worse was knowing what he took from her—what he once thought of her.
“Any day now,” I offered, trying to be positive. Adbeel did not seem placated by that. He nodded, taking a swig from his cup and leaning back in his chair.
“Will you tell me about her?” he asked, his eyes flicking down towards me as I sat. A huff of breath whooshed out of me. How could I describe her? She was perfect, immaculate, wonderful.
A part of me wanted her to stay mine and only mine. It was why I had stalled having her meet him. Why I did not want her to know that the evil creatures who raised her were actually my parents. Would she even want me anymore once she realized the truth I had been hiding?
But it had been wrong of me to make that decision for her, and I would not starve Adbeel of stories of his granddaughter when I had already kept him from her.
“Asher is fierce. She is stingy with her love but generous with her aid. I have never met anyone as self-sacrificing as she is. I think that is because she does not feel she is worthy of better. The royals shattered her so thoroughly that, for a while, I thought she would never be whole again. But she is strong—a force to be reckoned with. I do not think anything could truly break her, not fully. She is brave and funny and broody. She says the world is not made for dreamers, yet she seeks a future in which all are safe and equal. Asher ismadefor a crown and a throne.”
Quiet sobs alerted me to Adbeel’s grief, and as I looked up, I was met with a tear-stained face that showed all the pain that overtook him. I stood, making my way around the desk, and pulled him up. Strong arms wrapped around me, the shoulder of my top soaked within moments. King Adbeel Ayad was not a crier, nor was he a hugger. Yet there we stood, embracing as he bawled.
“She sounds just like Zaib—like Solei—like every queen before her. An Ayad female through and through.” His words were muffled by my leathers, but I still heard him. And deep in my chest, I felt the pang of loneliness. Of the parents I wouldnever have. Ridiculous as it was, I was jealous of Asher in that moment.
Like always, Nicola both ruined a moment and saved the day.
A tug on something with my essence told me she was writing to me. The last time she sent a raven—creepy thing—it had waited for my response. Like she knew I would lace the paper and send it back. Now, as she dropped the paper, I found myself practically bouncing with nerves.
