Page 6 of Of Spindles and Nightfall
For the briefest of moments, his gaze shifted to her, glowing and deadly. As their eyes met, she poured every ounce of her loathing and hatred into that single glance.
He wanted something from her. That was the only explanation. She was loathed to play along or even consider it, and yet, she had no choice if she wished to remain alive. But whatever happened after this, she knew one thing.
If she lived through this, she would find a way to end the demon arch king’s life.
Chapter 3
Aryana
Multiple guards surrounded Aryana as one unlocked her shackles in front of an open heavyset metal door. “In you go,Princess,” the guard snarled, while the others jutted at her with their spears.
Aryana was prodded into a room. Sunshine streamed in from a window above, searing her skin. She hissed and lunged for the one small corner where the shadow still lingered, curling up into it. If she remained in the light, she’d catch fire and burn to death. A sigh escaped as the raging heat on her body cooled, even while she heard the heavy door slam shut and the lock click into place. Drawing her knees up to her chin, she took in her surroundings. Smooth stone,likely unscalable, formed the walls. Bars blocked the high window, preventing escape even if she reached it. Straw bales filled most of the space. The straw she was miraculously supposed to turn into gold.
Zarathos, that bastard.
She hated demons. If she ever had the chance to see the demon arch king again, she’d strike him down.
As if on cue, a black mist poured in through the window, twisting and spiraling to the ground where it gathered, spinning in a small cyclone of darkness until it bent inward, coalescing into a single form.
Aryana rose to her feet with a snarl. How in the hell did Zarathos do that? He wore a midnight cloak, hood off, his wings magically whisked away. Though he ruled as the demon arch king, he originally hailed from Nation Aeria, the air stalkers, like his father before him. He was an abaddon, a spawn of the race of demons that were fallen angels. And while only the demon arch king possessed the power to summon and recall his wings, she was pretty sure abaddons and kingly authority didn’t grant him the ability to enter through the shadows as he had just done.
He stood in the sunlight, watching her. Envy pulled through her at how easily he moved while she huddled in her darkened corner.
He grinned, revealing a row of mildly pointed teeth. “Having a good afternoon, Vampress?”
“Go impale yourself on a spear,” she snarled.
He shook his head. “So violent. Didn’t daddy dearest teach you any manners?”
She flinched. The mention of her father was akin to a slap in the face, even after all these years.
Zarathos seemed to notice and took a step toward her. He moved with an easy grace, not resembling something sent from above, but more as a hunter stalking its next meal. “It’s no longer daddy who rules the coop, is it? No, now it’s uncle. Still, I would’ve thought one of them might have taught you—”
“Shut the hell up, you beast.”
He stopped short, lifting an eyebrow and frowning. “That isn’t the way to speak to the person who is keeping you alive.”
“Keeping me alive?” She emitted a humorless laugh. “You put me in this situation.”
He shrugged, unapologetic. “I needed the sword of Caronele. The Demon Trials are approaching, and every advantage helps.”
“So you got your weapon,” she said. “Why lie to King Salen?”
“Because I had to preserve your life. You present me with a prodigious opportunity, Vampress.”
“Stop calling me that.”
“Vampress? I thought it was clever. You are the vampire princess.”
“It’s not clever.”
He grinned. “You see,Vampress, you could provide me with the one thing that would guarantee me a victory in the upcoming Demon Trials.”
“And what is that?”
Zarathos’s gaze sparked. “The vampire’s piece of the royal scepter.”
She sucked in a breath. The scepter was the symbol of the six kingdoms. Meant to be held by the arch king. It contained a potent, untamed energy that could be wielded like a weapon. When the vampires separated from the demons, they had taken their piece of the scepter with them, shattering its power and rendering it useless.
