Page 64 of Of Spindles and Nightfall
He wanted her in his room? What for? “You can do whatever you wish,” she said. “You’re the demon arch king.”
“I’m only the demon arch king as far as I meet their expectations.”
She scoffed at his excuse.
“You don’t believe me? Then believe the scores. Tigon and Xaphoron got first and second rank. Because of you, we barelyscraped by in third place. We wereextremelylucky I was able to shred another champion without consequences. Now is not the time to act as if I am the exception.”
“So more potion? More debasement?”
He ran a hand over his hair and moved closer, searching the hall, clearly on edge. “Damn it, do you think I enjoy this? You think I want to see you suffer in this way?”
His outburst caught her off guard.
Her eyes narrowed. “Spare me the act. I know where we stand.”
He stepped back, the annoyance evident in his face. “You’re right. Your choice. Either we fake me being horrible to you tonight so you can stay in my room. Or you can go back to your cell and be tortured. You decide.”
“What makes you certain that potion isn’t torture?” She hated being afraid of him against her will. But facing renewed torment in her cell was a very real prospect. One that left her nauseous at the very thought.
He looked away, his stance softening a little. “I’m sorry. I’ll keep it as brief as I can.”
She took the vial from him. “Everything you do is necessary?”
His gaze bored into hers, causing a spark of warmth in her veins. “Always.”
She gave him a sad smile. “Then let the torture begin.” The liquid tasted like sour grapes flowing past her lips and down her throat.
He retrieved the vial from her and placed it in his pocket. “Listen very carefully, Vampress. You are afraid and you long to escape, andthough I may say terrible things, in the end you understand I won’t hurt you, so although you struggle you will remain by my side.”
His commands were growing more elaborate. She couldn’t tell whether her mind was clearing or unraveling. All she longed for was to stay next to him, to curl into the darkness that was Zarathos. Footsteps sounded in the hall and the scent of demons reached her nostrils. The potion stripped her of her will and her heart pumped rapidly, the fear spreading through her with the speed of ice frost.
He pinned her to the wall. His hands gripped her wrists and yanked them above her head, glaring at her with a wicked grin that spiked her terror higher. “Tonight, Princess, I will have my way with you. I will break you apart into a million pieces.”
She struggled to wrench free from his grasp, tears burning her eyes. Her heartbeat thundered in her chest like a thousand fists pounding in unison. It wasn’t the demon before her that stirred her fear. It was everything. The entire situation pulsed with danger. She glanced around the dark hallway, where every shadow seemed to promise a new threat. Trapped in this cursed castle, with death always a breath away.
Xaphoron marched toward them down the hall, his deep red wings were pulled tight against his body and his horns curled back at a sharper angle than Zarathos’s. His eyes glowed a pale hue, making Aryana yearn to shrink from his sight. At his side came the other contestant from Kingdom Aeria, the gargoyle with skin the color of granite and menacing fangs protruding from his lower jaw.
There was nowhere to hide.
“More play time with your kalator, Your Majesty?” Xaphoron asked. “I would’ve thought you got your fill of her at the opening ceremony.”
Zarathos released a harsh laugh. “More like the other way around. The opening ceremony was only a prelude. She will get what is coming to her tonight while she is at my mercy.” He dragged a single sharp nail over her cheek, causing her to tremble.
“She certainly is frightened enough of you to arouse anyone’s instincts,” the gargoyle next to Xaphoron said, reaching out to touch her, a ravenousness in his gaze.
Zarathos snatched her against him, jerking her from the demon’s reach. “She’s mine.” He bared his teeth menacingly. “Find your own vampire princess, Balafur, to torment with your pathetically small cock.”
Balafur snarled, but Xaphoron held up a hand. “Soon we’ll be rid of you and we shall have a loyal son of Aeria on the throne. One that rules with the mantle of demons, not some daddy’s boy who can’t even uphold his father’s memory.”
Zarathos stiffened. “At least I don’t make pathetic attacks before the opening ceremony to eliminate the competition.”
Aryana recalled that terrifying day in the woods when they were attacked. Zarathos must believe the attackers were from kingdom Aeria. The consuming feelings inside her only intensified, and her knees grew weak. How she yearned to run and escape this place.
Xaphoron’s pale eyes slitted. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Balafur growled. “We will not listen to accusations from pathetic rulers who hide behind bargains and sexual displays with frail little vampire whores.”
Zarathos dropped her and lunged at Balafur. The two landed on the ground as they struggled. Xaphoron backed up, looking entertained.
