Page 1 of Royally Flocked

Chapter One

“What the fuck do you mean he lost another Guardian?” With a deep, menacing growl, Erus shoved to his feet and slammed his hands down on his desk.

Pepper Choi tucked a lock of shiny, plum-colored hair behind one ear, then clasped his hands together behind his back, visibly unimpressed with Erus’ outburst. With a tiny button nose, V-shaped chin, and big lavender eyes that dominated his face, the familiar looked like a freaking anime character.

His personality and demeanor, however, were all demon.

“Not just one. Prince Orrin Nightstar has lost two Guardians.” He waited with a bored expression while Erus let loose a string of colorful curses. “Apparently, the latest appointment is mated to an established member of the Guard.”

Erus growled. He had since lost count of how many security personnel the elf prince had blown through in the past few years. The first time it had happened, no one had thought much of it. Guardians fell in love and left. It was rare, but it did happen.

He hadn’t been overly concerned when it had happened a second time, either. The brevity of the female’s appointment had been suspicious, but again, shit happened. Then it had happened again. And again.

Not all had left on their own accord. Some had been dismissed for various infractions, some more serious than others. For others, it had simply been a matter of clashing personalities. While Erus tried to match Guardians to royal families with similar customs and values, it didn’t always work out that way.

With Orrin, for example, he was scraping the bottom of the barrel just to keep him safe. Especially when many of the males and females under his supervision had steadfastly refused to work with the prince.

As rumor had it, even those Guardians who had been forcibly removed from their duties had gone on to find their mates shortly after leaving Nightstar Castle. It was the strangest damn thing, and Erus still couldn’t make heads or tails of it.

And he loathed when things didn’t make sense.

“Do you have a preference for who should be appointed?” Pepper asked, still maddeningly calm about the entire situation. “Or should I just choose from the available candidates?”

Erus considered it for a moment and shook his head. “I want to know what in Hades is going on first.”

“Shall I send an agent to conduct a review, then?”

He waved a hand at his assistant. “Yes, fine. I want the report on my desk in three days.”

“Very good, sir.” Pepper tapped at the screen of his tablet a few times, his face a mask of indifference in the bluish glow.

When he didn’t turn to leave, Erus quirked an eyebrow at him. “What?”

“Your presence has been requested in the Underworld.”

“Request denied.” Glad that had been cleared up, he settled into his leather executive chair again. Pepper still hadn’t left. “What now?”

“By Hades.”

Well…fuck.

With nothing more than a thought, Erus conveyed himself from his brightly lit, cushy office in San Diego to the dreary banks of the River Acheron in the Underworld. Bone-biting cold instantly enveloped him, and a frigid wind sent ripples over the water and whipped his long hair around his face.

It had been centuries since he had returned, and gods alive, he still hated the damn place.

Overhead, there was no moon. No stars. No discernable sky at all, really. Just never-ending darkness that stretched into eternity. At his back, however, storefronts glowed with warm, welcoming light, while old-fashioned lanterns illuminated the cobblestone streets.

Since time immemorial, the banks of the river had been a barren place. Lost souls who either couldn’t pay the ferryman or simply refused to cross had wandered aimlessly in despair. Then, one day, seemingly overnight, an entire village had sprung up out of nothing.

Rumors still persisted about who had created the streets and buildings, but few were privy to the truth. Erus happened to be one of those few. As such, he knew that despite his brutal reputation, it had been Hades who had taken pity on the dead.

He had even created a massive apartment high-rise in the center of the village square to house the souls. Every year, the population grew, yet somehow, there were always spare units available in the building.

While the dead didn’t need to eat, drink, or even sleep, not all habits were easy to break. Bakeries and diners were abundant within the village, as well as coffee shops and pubs. Seamstresses and cobblers had popped up in the last century or so, with barber shops and hairdressers following shortly after.

Despite these conveniences, however, it was still a hard afterlife filled with suffering.

Walking to the end of the long, crumbling pier, Erus jangled the rusted bell that hung from the post and stared out over the river. An eerie mist floated atop the surface, the tendrils shimmering with a pale blue light, courtesy of the millions of tortured souls that drifted beneath the water.

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