Page 55 of Claimed By her Alien Prince

I was sure Behlial's words must have hurt or at least humiliated her, especially given how public they had been made. But there was no trace of malice toward me on her serene face. Which once again reminded me so strongly of the bust of Queen Nefertiti, it was uncanny.

It wasn't just her looks and her long, noble neck, it was also in the regal way she held herself. The same regalness the artist had managed to capture in the bust was written all over her posture and face. She let go of my arm and directed her face once again at her sons.

I swallowed a hard lump down, for all intents and purposes, these men were her sons, and I wondered how she was able to stay so calm watching them kill each other.

This thought reminded me that she hadn't physically given birth to them. I craned my neck down to the rows of nobles and wondered if their mothers were among them, and if not, where they were. Where were the Nayphyllyms who had come before the other girls and me, the ones who had given birth to Seth, Azazel, Grigori, and the others?

Before my mind was able to follow that train of thought, Behlial gave the signal to have Abaddon's shackles removed.

"You will obey the rules from now on?" Behlial asked.

Abaddon bowed deep, knowing full well when to show humbleness. After Behlial waved him and Seth forward, Abaddon threw a longing look at Judith, and I almost felt sorry for him and her. There was no doubt that the two of them cared for each other.

But I couldn't allow myself to feel that way. I needed to stay strong for Seth. And it took all my strength to stand there, next to Behlial, and watch Seth approach without throwing myself at him like the wailing mess I was on the inside. Instead, I tried to emulate Queen Ishtar in her royal calmness.

Behlial rose, put his hands on the two hilts protruding from the arms of his throne, and in one swift motion, pulled them out. I had a hard time believing that those Daemon killing swords would be so obviously stored. Anybody could come by and take one to kill a Daemon, especially with the princes being ordered to slay each other. I put that thought away though, for later perusal, as another idea formed in my mind. I remembered reading stories about knights on their brave steeds. I remembered reading about tourneys and chivalry.

For some reason, the duel Seth was about to fight reminded me of those times. This morning, I found a gold ribbon in the bathroom and put it in my hair when I brushed it.

Now, my hands reached back to pull it out.

Alarmed Seth's eyes locked on me as I moved forward. His eyes tried to warn me off, but he didn't need to. I knew that we were at the mercy of his father but I couldn't imagine that even the devil himself would have objected to what I was about to do.

I stepped in front of Seth, holding the ribbon out. "Please accept this token of my affection, and may you fight strong and bravely."

I was proud that there was only an imperceptible tremor in my voice and hands as I tied the ribbon around Seth's large bicep. He smiled down at me, and when I was done, he tilted my chin up with his hand and kissed me on the lips.

"Thank you, my lady." He bowed to me after he let me go, and amusement shone in his eyes. Next, he accepted the sword from the King of Darkness for a second time in three days and bowed to him too, before retreating down the steps.

"No token for me?" Abaddon grinned at me as he stepped forward.

"You brought this on yourself," I snarled as I returned to my previous spot next to the king's throne.

Behlial stroked his goatee. "I think I have underestimated you."

I returned his gaze evenly, getting used to his evil presence, and watched Abaddon step down next to Seth.

The remaining brothers, Marduk, Azazel, and Grigori took the other girls under their arms and moved them further toward the left, where I remembered seeing the princes for the first time, what seemed so long ago.

My heart rate accelerated as Seth and Abaddon crossed their swords, waiting for their king's signal.

"Begin," Behlial ordered.

The clanking of the swords against each other, the speed, and the brutal force with which they were wielded against each other still surprised me, even though I had seen it before. I leaned forward with worry before a hand once again pressed my arm lightly, reminding me to not show too much—if any—emotion. Queen Ishtar slightly shook her head at me.

And so I stood there, unmoving like a statue, keeping my face blank, swallowing down tears as I watched Seth fight for his life. Every so often, I felt Behlial's gaze on me and suddenly I realized why he chose Seth. He wanted to see how I would react. I threw a glance at Queen Ishtar, who had been warning me all along not to show too much emotion toward Seth, and now I realized that the King of Darkness wanted to know how much I cared for Seth and how much he could use me against him.

Behlial assumed that whatever I felt for Seth, he felt for me too, but he couldn't figure out just how deep our love for one another ran because he had never experienced any of this for himself.

I was sure he was looking into ways to torture Azubah and Marduk or Azazel and his girls or Grigori and Andrea too. Mind games were everything to him.

My intuition told me I needed to be braver and stronger than I had ever been. I slowed down my breathing, which in turn slowed down my rapidly beating heart; my eyes trained on the two fighting brothers, I was sure I must have looked almost catatonic.

It was easy to see that Abaddon was a better fighter than Nergal had been. He was lithe even though he was a very muscular man. He parried Seth's strikes with firmness, but there was no hate in the movements , not like the hate that had driven Nergal. Instead, Abaddon seemed to be a machine of utter determination as he drove Seth back stroke by stroke.

Aside from the men's grunting and clanging blades creating an eerie echo that resonated off the tall ceiling and walls, the great hall was quiet. That, and the flickering torchlight made everything even more surreal. There were moments I felt so detached I could almost tell myself I was only watching a movie, but then I got a glimpse of Seth and reality took over again.

Seth fought elegantly, like a panther. His biceps bulged when he wielded the sword, and a sheen of sweat glistened on his exposed skin, plastering his black shirt to his magnificent chest.

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