Page 65 of A Serenade To The Elf Queen
“All right. Got it.” The demon nods stiffly. “The vampire said, ‘No, thank you.’”
Eamon’s eyes widen with shock before absolute wrath takes over, “Are you sure that was the reply?”
“Fine. I added the thank you,” Kheirall admits easily. “The guy simply said, ‘No.’”
“He can have all of them if he wants,” Eamon says desperately. He shoves Cedwyn forward for good measure.
A burning anger takes hold of me. I have to physically restrain myself from clawing the commissioner’s face. I feel Aelfric’s hand on my shoulder, anchoring me back.
Calm down.
In a split second when my friend touches me, a deathly aura vibrates the air. Two of the young elves drop to the ground, fainting from the burst of energy. A muscle ticks along the vampire’s jaw, his sharp gaze trained on Aelfric’s hand.
“It seems that he has eyes only for you,” Kheirall mutters mirthlessly.
My heartbeat picks up as that immortal gaze is fixed entirely on me.
Eamon curses underneath his breath. “Tell him to spare a glance at the offerings at the very least.”
Kheirall shakes his head. “Out of fear for my life and theirs, I don’t think I will do that.”
The Nightwalker suddenly points at me. I don’t need the demon to translate that.
He wants me.
That somehow terrifies and comforts me at the same time. I can’t believe it has come to this, but everything is up to me now. The throbbing ache on my arm reminds me of the Aeonians’ threat.
I kneel next to the Demon Lord. “Offer me to him.”
Kheirall turns to me with a bewildered look. There is a long pause as the demon stares at me, his star-flecked eyes gleaming with consideration. Whatever he reads in my face must convince him. He takes a quick glance at the paper in his hand and explains the conditions once again.
Svenn’s voice cuts through the air, clear and crisp. His behemoth frame descends from the pile of ruins, leaving us for the marked stone once again.
“He said yes,” Kheirall says after a while.
I was ready for the answer, but it still surprises me. Is Svenn really willing to surrender himself to the Elders? I get the feeling that despite the Demon Lord’s best intentions, he might have missed something. “Have you translated all that properly?”
“You wound me, love,” the Demon Lord says, touching his chest with a feigned innocence. “Of course, I did.”
“Have we come to an agreement?” Eamon asks, daring himself to step forward.
“He accepts your condition. I can officiate the human part of it without problem,” Kheirall volunteers. “I am an ordained minister.”
Not one of us know how to reply to that.
“We’ll need to make a blood sacrifice though,” the demon says with a little smirk.
Bile rises to my throat before he quickly adds, “Kidding. Had you worried, did I?”
Aelfric looks as if he’s ready to throttle the demon but Garrett merely chuckles. “You really are the devil.”
“Naah, I just work for the guy,” Kheirall says, scratching his jaw. “So, how does an elven marriage ceremony go?”
“That agreement between the two parties earlier and they consummate the wedding as husbands and wives,” Eamon answers flatly. The Alderalfs spring into a series of conversations about preparations as if there is not an ancient, lethal predator a mere ten feet away from us. A sense of numbness fills my nerves, but I keep my mask on.
“My plan tonight was to go to bed early with a glass of milk and a book in my hand,” I hear Kheirall mutter. “Being amatchmaker to an elf and a Nightwalker was not how I pictured my evening would end.”
Marrying a vampire was not what I imagined either when I set out from Aelfheim.
