Page 66 of Of Spindles and Nightfall
“Don’t demons like the smell of fear?”
“They relish the scent on their enemies, on their prey, on those that aren’t…” His expression tightened. “Answer the question.”
He’d left her crying and fearful and now he wanted to touch her, but she understood. If the demon king was to appear as if he’d had his way with her, this was necessary. After everything else she’d been through today, she could handle this last thing.
“Yes.”
A sigh expelled from him and he shifted, taking her oh so gently into his embrace, as if she was a piece of delicate china that was about to shatter in his grasp. He moved behind her, sitting on the cold stone floor and pulling her against his warmth.
His fingers grazed over her arms in calming, caressing strokes. “I want you to go to sleep, Aryana. And as you do, I want you to relax and understand you will remain unhurt. And when you wake, the fear and pain of today will feel but a distant memory along with all your traumatic memories. You will wake refreshed and… whole.”
She wasn’t sure if it worked like that. Once the potion wore off, would he still be able to control her feelings? The question lingered, but already a heavy drowsiness was pulling her under, and a quiet peace settled over her heart. For the first time, in what seemed like forever—whether it was the potion’s doing or simply the way Zarathos held her, his shadows curling softly at her sides—she felt something she hadn’t in a very long while.
She felt safe.
Aryana awoke refreshed. She stretched and her hands bumped into something cold and metal. She looked up at the chains and then at her wrists that very much were not inside them.
There was a shifting figure in the shadows. She sat up and made out the soft glow of his eyes in the fading lights of the day.
“You unchained me.”
Zarathos cleared his throat and stepped out of the darkness, coming to stand next to the vanity. “There were demons at the door last night. Everything had to sound authentic. The chains helped. But after they were gone, they were unnecessary.”
She rubbed her wrists, still uncertain as to the meaning behind the action. “It’s almost like you care how I feel.”
“Why would I be concerned about your feelings, Vampress? I only desired you to be refreshed and uninjured so you can help keep me alive today.”
“I didn’t know that how my hands are chained affected that—”
He slammed his fist down and fixed her with a furious look. “When I declare that is all it is, that is all it is. Understand?”
They glared at each other. Why had he gotten prickly simply because she noticed him doing something kind?
“As you say, my master,” she said, disdain dripping in her voice. Zarathos observed her with his glowing gaze, seemingly trying to decide something about her. She couldn’t help but notice that his eyes were several shades warmer than Xaphoron’s.
“There are certain times during the trials when banquets will be required,” he said. “Most of the time, the kalators are to be present for them. Kingdom Misophae was to host tonight’s event, but they cancelled it because of the death of one of their champions.” He uttered the line without remorse, as if he hadn’t caused the demise of said champion.
“Which leaves us free to go for the scepter.”
A grimness tightened his expression, and a tension entered her at the sight. “Yes. It is time, Vampress.”
Chapter 21
Zarathos
Zarathos clenched his jaw as Aryana rose to her feet. Blood stained the back and side of her torn and shredded silvery gown. Signs of the hell she’d been forced to go through because of him.
She followed his gaze to her attire. “I think I’d like to put on something else.”
He nodded and stalked to the rack and pulled the black dress he’d had Ernon and Mils retrieve, suspecting she’d want to wear it when they went for the scepter, considering it was the only gown she thought her uncle would approve of.
“Here,” hesaid gruffly.
He held it out to her, and she accepted it.
“There is a bath prepared. Wash quickly.”
She gave a nod and disappeared into the washroom.
