by Lexi C. Foss
“Gee, thanks, Grigory. You always were a sweet talker.” She rolled her eyes and turned away from me, but I caught her wrist and yanked her back.
Her opposite fist came for my nose in retaliation, and I caught it in midair before twisting it and easily bringing her to her knees. She yelped in pain, but I didn’t let up, instead leaning down to where she knelt at my feet with her back to my front.
“You defied my orders,” I said against her ear. “Men have died for less.”
She bristled at that. “I’m not afraid of you, Grigory.”
“I know.” It was something I liked about her, even when it fueled her obstinate side. “But you put yourself at risk tonight, and that’s not something I can easily forgive, Zaya.” I purposely used her full name, not her nickname, knowing it would drive home my point.
“I’m fine,” she snapped. “He barely put up a fight.”
“Fine,” I repeated, incredulous. “Did you go back to the scene and clean up?” I asked her. “Did you ensure no one actually saw you? Heard you? Hell, did you even notice the cameras that videotaped your every move?” I released her and snatched the chain of her necklace, snapping it with ease, and pocketed the stolen charm.
“Hey!” She spun around and up onto her heels, ready to fight again.
“What?” I retorted, bored already. “You think I don’t know this is stolen, Zaya? The damn thing belongs to my mother. You’re lucky I caught you with it and not her.”
Zaya just glared at me. “Maybe she gave it to me.”
“She didn’t.”
The little brat challenged me with a look. “How do you know?”
“Because she didn’t,” I replied, done with this asinine tangent. “You cut off your hair, dyed it blue, stole my mother’s charm, then fucked off to the human realm in a poor attempt to prove me wrong about your readiness. However, all you did was prove me right. You’re not fucking ready, Zay.”
“Tell that to the dick I just killed,” she countered, arching a haughty brow.
I snorted. “Killing a human is child’s play, sweetheart.”
“He pulled a knife on me.”
“Yeah, a knife you left behind at the crime scene,” I drawled, pulling said weapon from my pocket to toss at her heel-clad feet. “As well as a shit ton of blood—some of which was yours, by the way—and three key witnesses. Do you think humans are fucking deaf, Zay? They could hear that asshole’s bellows through the damn walls.”
For a halfling with a human father, I expected her to at least know a little about the mortal realm and their politics, but she proved to me tonight that she didn’t have a damn clue what she was doing.
I pinched the bridge of my nose, irritated as fuck by the disaster she nearly caused. Had I not followed her to the bar and cleaned up after her, it would have been a right mess indeed.
Mortal authorities were a pain in the ass.
“You can’t just go around killing dark souls,” I muttered. “We have cleanup protocols for a reason, so humans don’t discover the existence of demons.” Technically, the mortals called my kind vampires. An adorable little nickname brought on by one too many entertainment films.
And totally beside the point.
“Do you have any idea what would have happened had I not been there to save your ass tonight?” I asked her, arching a brow. “Hell, did you even notice I was there, Zay?”
She swallowed, finally displaying a semblance of unease.
I wasn’t trying to beat her down. I understood and respected her need for vengeance, but there was a time and a place for revenge, and tonight had not been it. Not by a long shot.
“I told you I would help you,” I reminded her softly. “Let me help you.”
“I don’t want your help,” she replied, her voice chilling the air. “You’ve done enough.”
This time I let her stalk off, too exhausted to fight with her tonight. Guarding her had turned into a full-time job—one I’d never desired.
“Fucking Adrik,” I muttered to myself.
He got me into this the night he met me in the forest with a broken pixie in his arms. I’d been within my rights to tell him to fuck right off with that bullshit, but he’d demanded I help him. Some bullshit about the girl meaning everything to Valora. Which, yeah, it was true. They were best friends, and Valora probably would have shattered a little inside had Zaya died that night.
But when I accepted the task of bringing the fiery pixie back to life, I had no idea what I was in for with her.
And while part of me thrived on the challenge, another part of me was too tired to continue this dance. I had a damn kingdom to think about and an ascension floating on the horizon.
Oh, and a wedding.
To Napia, Princess of Neptune.
This time I filled the glass for myself, chugging half the contents of my decanter in a matter of minutes.
I didn’t want to marry anyone, let alone a female with snakes for hair. I shuddered at the thought of the vile hiss that underlined her voice whenever she spoke. Something about the female disturbed me, and it wasn’t just the thought of the serpents sprouting off her head.
Fuck, having her in my bed would be a nightmare. I’d never let her mouth near my cock. Hell, she probably had miniature snakes in her nether regions, and that was a hard pass.
Why my mother had agreed to this absurd arrangement was beyond me. Some bullshit about joining our kingdoms.
Yeah, I preferred playing the role of Zaya’s babysitter for the next hundred years to the fate of marrying Napia.
At least Zaya was fuckable. Well, sort of. She seemed a bit broken in that department. Although, she reacted to me on occasion when we sparred.
Just as I reacted to her.
And fuck, her dreams… I groaned out loud just thinking of all the fantasies she’d pulled me into. I deserved a Lucifer-damned medal for not taking advantage of those situations. Instead, I always woke up hard as a fucking bat.
I suspected I’d be pulled into another dream later, mostly because it seemed to be the way Zaya dealt with her pain.
Maybe she’d wear that skirt from tonight, too. Mmm, that tight little scrap of fabric was pure sin, revealing far too much leg for my liking around a crowd of hungry males. Her target hadn’t stood a chance. Of course, had she not killed him, I would have, because the thoughts in his head had infuriated me.
He had planned to carve his initials into her fleshy breasts, then lick the blood off her like some damn leech.
Sure, I’d thought about sticking my fangs into her countless times, but for mutual pleasure.
That sick fuck just cared about himself and had wanted to destroy her flesh—permanently.
“You’re brooding,” my mother said from the shadows as she seemingly appeared in the main hall. This area tended to be quiet, as we weren’t keen on parties in this kingdom. Zaya and I had essentially turned it into a gymnasium for our workouts, but the new crystal fixtures hanging on the otherwise bland black walls confirmed this entire room was about to undergo a reformation.
For my wedding.
Joy.
“Hello, Mother,” I greeted her, pouring myself a third glass of blood wine. “I can’t imagine what I have to brood about. It’s not like my entire life hasn’t been promised to a viper or anything.”
My mother, Lux, Queen of Noxia, stepped into the moonlight illuminating the room through the glass ceiling above. She embodied the darkness, just as I did, with her long, dark hair and equally black eyes. We were products of the literal night, our demonic kind thriving in the shadows unlike any other.
Except maybe my adopted brother, Adrik—he was the only remaining demon from the now dead Shadow Kingdom.
“Napia isn’t a viper. She’s a water demon,” my mother corrected with a stern look only a mother could give. “Tame her snakes and you’ll get on just fine.”
“Tame her snakes,” I repeated. “Right. Do you think I should dangle a tray of mice before them? Or should I set the mi
ce loose in a room and watch her chase them with her head?”
My mother wasn’t amused by my commentary, but it certainly painted an entertaining vision in my mind.
“She’ll be here in four weeks for the engagement party. That’s four weeks for you to fix this outlook before I’m forced to intervene on your behalf.”
“Would that include calling off the agreement?” I mused out loud. “Because if that’s the case, I’m game.”
“Honestly, Grigory, you’re nearly twenty-five. When will you behave like an adult?”
“When my mother stops choosing brides for me?” I suggested, arching a brow. “I’m perfectly capable of picking my own wife.”
“Then present one to me by the date of your nuptials, and I’ll reconsider the arrangement,” she replied as she always did to this argument. “Otherwise, we move forward.”
“Why do I need to marry on my twenty-fifth birthday? You’re not married.”
“It’s what was written into the stars for your ascension. If you disagree, take it up with Lucifer.”
“Oh, you mean your lover?” I countered, still livid about that little affair. “Why don’t you talk to him on my behalf after you finish sucking his cock? I’m sure—”
Her palm cracked across my cheek, jarring me from my sprawled position in my chair and reminding me whom I’d just disrespected. Not just my mother, but the Almighty of the Underworld.
But fuck if I could care.
This entire damn arrangement was ludicrous, and everyone knew it. Even her. Yet she was forcing me to abide by some ridiculous prophecy as if it were the sole reason for my existence.
“Do not speak to me like that again,” she seethed. “I know you’re upset that I kept Valora a secret, but surely you understand by now why it was done.”
“To fulfill a prophecy,” I muttered. “Like everything else in this fucking world.”
“If you hate it so much, you’re welcome to leave.” It was a calmly worded suggestion that she knew I’d never accept.
Noxia was my home.
My future.
My kingdom.
Even if I didn’t agree with the path to ascension. “You’ve met Napia,” I said, taking another route. “She’s a horrible female. Noxia will despise her.”
“You’ll keep her in line.”
“Will I?” I snorted. “There has to be another way, Mother.”
“I’m certain there is,” she agreed. “But if you think I’ll be the one to find that path for you, you’re mistaken. This is your rise to power, son. Stop wasting your time brooding about a future you appear to despise and find a way to fix it.”
“You never spoke to Adrik this way,” I said as she turned to leave.
“Adrik never required the hand-holding,” she returned, disappearing into her trademark red smoke.
My teeth ground together.
What she failed to see was that I’d spent the last five fucking years searching for an alternative to this wedding. Some sign to indicate that this wasn’t my right path, yet the stars continued to align against me.
All pointing to a sea dragon bride better suited for my nightmares.
It wasn’t even her snakelike hair that bothered me, but her bitter soul. She was a vile creature who wouldn’t know kindness if it bit her on the ass. And she was destined to rule at my side.
“Fuck,” I grumbled to myself, setting my empty glass to the side before rubbing a hand over my face. For many years, I’d used sex as a relief from my fate. But not even that had appealed to me for the last six months. Actually, the only activity I enjoyed of late was sparring with Zaya. Perhaps because my soul recognized the torment in hers. I may wander around with a jovial grin, pretending not to have a care in the world, but inside, I was slowly shattering.
Fate had forced me to decide between my happiness and the happiness of the kingdom.
I’d chosen the latter but found myself yearning for the former.
My mother was right about one thing, though. Brooding wouldn’t solve my problem.
At this point, nothing really would.
Apart from a dagger through Napia’s heart—an act of treason that was proving more and more promising every day.
“Zaya...”
A shiver danced down my spine, urging my feet faster as I ran down the endless corridor.
Nova Kingdom, I recognized, spinning in a circle, my mind dizzy. How? How am I here?
It had to be a dream.
A warped reality.
A nightmare.
Please. Please don’t let this be real. Not again. Not again!
“Oh, Zaya,” the deep voice taunted, causing my heart to race in my chest as I pushed myself to my limit, searching for a way out, a door, anything, to end this lengthy torment. “You can’t escape the inevitable, little one. I’m inside you. I made you what you are. Don’t try to run from it. You’ll never be free from me.”
Lies! I thought back at it. “I’ll escape you,” I whispered, my voice hoarse from screaming.
When was that?
When had I screamed?
I couldn’t remember, this hell a maze of mental torment.
This isn’t real.
This can’t be real.
Run!
I slammed into something hard—a hot wall of male—and my world shattered to a stop. It’s him. My tormentor. The one who orchestrated my destruction.
Necros.
I’d dreamt this scene so many times, awoken to tangled, sweat-drenched sheets and the visions of a past I longed to forget.
“There’s no way out,” he said, his voice a low taunt to my senses. A dark embrace. A kiss of a memory forever ingrained in my mind.
I shoved him away, only to be caught up in his hold once more, my eyes clouding with unshed tears.
I’m stronger than this.
A warrior.
I know how to fight now.
“Release me,” I said, my voice lacking the force I so desired.
“Impossible. You’re mine, Zaya. Look at me.” He grasped my chin and forced my gaze upward.
I closed my eyes, defying him to my last breath. “No.”
“Look at me,” he repeated, this time more sternly, and the subservient maid I kept buried deep within felt the overwhelming need to obey.
Don’t! I snapped at myself. This isn’t real. It’s all an illusion. Necros is dead.
This dream was Grigory’s fault. Had he just allowed me to leave, trusted me to handle my list, then maybe I’d be free of these constant nightmares.
Alas, no. He didn’t feel I was ready. And so, I was forever plagued by my mind.
“You’re not ready,” Necros said, reading my mind. “But you will be. Soon.”
I frowned.
Wait…
“Come on, Zay. Look at me.” The softened tone confused me. It sounded like Grigory, not Necros.
A trick? A way to convince me to face my nightmare head-on?
He swept his thumb across my bottom lip. “I want to see your eyes, little warrior. Are they blue tonight? Green? A pretty turquoise mix?” He pressed his mouth to the edge of mine, then whispered kisses across my jaw before meeting my ear. “Turquoise is my favorite color on you.”
I shivered for an entirely different reason now than before, the heat of his body seeping into mine and coaxing me into a false sense of safety.
Don’t do it, I told myself. It’s a trick. He’s not here.
Except, sometimes he did appear in my dreams. From my understanding, it was a side effect of his blood saving my life. It had connected us in a way I couldn’t explain or prepare for—a way I desperately longed to ignore. He acted as though he knew about the connection in our dreams but never spoke of it when we woke. Which left me unclear as to whether he really knew about them or if my mind had fabricated every stolen moment shared between us.
“Grigory?” I asked, uncertain.
“It’s me,” he promised, his nose skimming my cheekbone as he returned his f
orehead to mine. “Open your eyes, sweetheart.”
I stole a deep breath before daring to peek up at him and met a pair of dangerously seductive, dark eyes. “It’s really you.”
“I heard you screaming in your sleep,” he murmured, his touch moving to my cheek to cradle my face between his palms. “I’m sorry to intrude. It was this or bang on your door.”
“I prefer this,” I admitted. “But is it real?”
He shook his head. “Not really, no.”
“Necros was here.” I swallowed. “He’s always here.”
“He’s dead.”
“I know, but he…”
“He haunts you,” Grigory said. “Yes, I know.” He lifted his hand to my hair, his fingers gliding through the short blue strands. “I like this, Zay. It’s very you. Short, strong, and standing proud.”
“I don’t feel very strong right now.” And I hated myself a little bit for feeling that way. “You’ve provided me with all this knowledge and training, and I just… I flounder here.”
“Mind over matter,” he replied softly. “That’ll take time, but I have faith in you, Zay. You’ll figure it out.”
I melted into his touch, my heart panging for an embrace I wasn’t allowed to crave. Yet I did. Especially here while alone with him. His eyes told me he knew it, too.
“These fantasies are so wrong,” he whispered, his gaze searching mine. “My blood exists inside you and makes you want things you shouldn’t.”
“Like you.”
“Like me.” His palm caressed my cheek once more before sliding back to grasp my nape. “Yet I find myself unable to walk away. You might fall into another nightmare, forcing me to come back all over again.”
“You help me forget, Grigory.” I meant it. Every embrace in his bed, in his arms, allowed me renewed peace. “You make me feel alive.” At least in my dreams.
“Fuck, Zay.” His pupils flared, the need inside his gaze calling to mine.
“Yes,” I whispered. “It’s not real anyway, right?”
“Right,” he agreed, his opposite hand falling to my hip while the other remained around the back of my neck. “And we’re already in hell, too.”
Our surroundings changed, some trigger in my mind returning us to Grigory’s rooms. Or perhaps he did that. I couldn’t quite tell, the lines between reality and fantasy blurring whenever I found myself in his arms.