by A. K. Koonce
My attention lifts to find my cousin staring curiously down on us. Her hand clutches the white robe wrapped around her petite frame.
“Aries?” she asks with confusion heavy in her tone.
My gaze passes from her to the demon in front of me a few times before a thought finally stumbles forward in my cloudy brain.
“Your demon. He’s sick. That shithole down there is a breeding site for infection, and it’s demons like this who make our fine guard look bad. Take him to the infirmary. Now!” I stand and start to walk away without looking back at him.
Don’t look back. Don’t look back. Don’t look back.
“The infirmary doesn’t open until sunrise,” Pen says.
I spin on the toes of my shoes, and it’s really just an excuse to get one more glimpse of him. He’s massive and strong, and yet, beaten and bruised.
He begged me to stay. And now I’m walking away.
And for what? The sake of an appearance? To make sure no one thinks I care for the monster they’ve painted this beautiful man to be?
I can’t stay. Not now. But I can make sure he’s taken care of.
“Then wake them. You are the Duchess of Roses. Wake. Them. The. Fuck. Up. Now, Pen!” My voice rakes down the quiet hall, and I hear feet shuffle behind closed doors like we have more of an audience than we can see.
But I don’t care.
Pen nods so hard, I swear her pretty little blonde curls are going to come loose.
When she starts ushering Ryke to his feet, I turn away from them. Pain strikes through me to walk away.
But I do walk away from him.
For my sake, as well as his.
7
Mind, Body, and Soul
Zaviar
No one talks about it. Krave never once fucking talked about how you become a bound demon. Let me tell you a little story.
The King, the great and mighty King of Roses, fucking date-raped my ass into swearing myself to him. I was drugged. And beaten. And then I was intimately granted a temporary binding of quick spoken words. Bound heart and soul to some fucker who can’t tell the difference between a demon and godsdamn seraph.
My jaw grinds as I stand on the wooden platform above the watchful fae. Damien stands at my side, the sunlight beaming down on his dirty golden skin and reminding me that he’s more of a saint than I’ll ever be.
I got him into this.
And eventually, I’ll get him out of all of this.
It just won’t be today.
“Yes, yes, gather round. Got your sights set on anyone in particular?” The little elderly woman asks a sniveling thin man at the very front.
He wipes his nose on the back of his hand as his beady eyes shift over the seven demons standing above him.
“Are—are any of them—p-p-pleasure demons?” The cocksucker asks on a squeak of a voice.
My lip curls back as I stand here. Every muscle in my body roars to lash out at him.
But powerful magic binds me in place. All I can do is stand still, glued to this spot. Even my voice is not my own in this moment. It’s his. And he’s willed it to shut the fuck up until I get my permanent bindings.
The clustered sound of too many people in one place rumbles around the little courtyard this fucking auction has been set up in on the east side of the castle. Guess they wanted good sunlight to show off their fucking pets in.
I shiver hard from the fever pounding through my skull. They didn’t want to take the time to heal us. We’ll be someone else’s problem soon enough.
“Okay, quiet down. Quiet down and the auction will begin,” the woman yells with a piercing pitch that causes my eye to twitch.
“First up, we have a fine, hardworking creature. Good laborer. Perfect for farm work or heavy lifting,” the dark-haired little woman says as she motions to the first demon at the far side of the stage.
I’m last.
Damien will go before me.
And then . . . we might be split up.
A slamming feeling pounds through my chest, and I keep my eyes trained straight ahead. I mentally calculate how many attendees there are here. A hundred. Maybe a hundred and fifty. Some of them are clearly just fucking gawkers not looking to buy at all.
But the odds that we’ll be bought by the same person . . . it doesn’t look good for us.
“Next up, we have a smaller one. On the smaller side but still a good buy. Perfect for household chores or just personal use,” the woman tells the crowd. The way she says personal use sets a tightness in my throat that feels a little like rage and bile all mixed into one.
Sweat clings to my temples, and it pours off of me the longer the auction carries on. One by one, bidders call out to bind their everlasting souls to the demons standing at my side. In sickness and in health. Until death do they part.
And then, Damien’s next.
“This one’s easy on the eyes. On the dirty side, but nothing a nice hot bath couldn’t clean up, am I right, ladies? Those arms are made for lifting. Definitely an indoor or outdoor use for this one.”
I’m going to be sick. I’m going to chuck chunks all over this fucking woman’s glittering white shoes, and then I’m going to pray to the gods above to remember I fuckin’ exist and that our power has got to be stronger than some fucked-up demon-fae bindings.
“What do you say? A hundred crowns to your king? Do I hear one hundred?”
“A hundred,” someone calls from the back.
“One-ten,” someone yells.
“Two hundred,” Someone else says with a voice of confident finality.
“Oh . . . Well, someone wants that heavy lifting, it sounds like,” the auctioneer says with a wag of her dark eyebrows. “Two-ten, anyone?”
“Two-ten,” a woman in a fine gown and big blonde wings says with a wave of her elegant hand. Gemstones glitter from her fingers as she eats up the sight of my brother where he stands above her.
“Five hundred crowns and please move on,” the familiar voice calls.
Whispers scuttle through the crowd, and even I try to catch a glimpse of the cocky woman. My lips curve in a slow smile as she steps slowly forward. Long silver hair fans across her big black wings, and she makes no effort to pull them fully in against her back as she passes the other attendees.
Aries.
I can’t explain the way my heart soars like it’s suddenly grown wings of its own.
She comes to the rich bitch’s side, and she looks her dead in the face.
“Princess,” Rich Bitch says. “I had no idea you participated in this kind of thing.”
Aries presses her delicate fingers over her navy gown, and I’m mesmerized by the way it hugs her body. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen someone so angelic look so sinfully bad before.
Aries tips her head up to the old woman at Damien’s side. “Call the auction on this one. He’s mine.” She gives that command with all the power of a royal woman.
And all the claim of a demanding mate.
“Of course, Princess,” the old woman says with a hurried nod. “Sold to Princess Aries for five hundred crowns.”
The auctioneer tags Damien like they do cattle. Literally she sticks a silver pin right into the flesh of his shoulder and waves him toward the stairs on the right side of the stage.
Damien’s eyes close but he doesn’t make a sound as he stiffly walks off.
And then it’s just me.
“Lastly, we have a pretty demon. Beautiful pink wings like I’ve never seen before,” the woman says. Aries smiles big and wide at me, and if I could move, I’d give her cocky smile the middle finger right now. “He’d make a lovely maid, don’t you think? Maybe a fashion advisor? I bet he has great taste in gowns, ladies.”
Oh, the flattery goes on and fuckin’ on. All the while, Princess fucking cocky pants down there laughs her tight little ass off at my expense.
“Do I hear one hundred crowns?”
“I’ll give a hundred for the missus,” a man with a thick a
ccent says.
“One-fifty,” a woman calls.
“Two hundred,” another says with a giggle that, for some reason, sets me more on edge.
Fucking pink wings.
“T-t-t-two-ten.” That voice echoes in my mind, and my gaze cuts right to the cocksucker from earlier.
My lip curls back as I recall what he was looking for.
Fuck no.
My gaze falls hard to the silent princess in front of me.
She lifts her hand and studies her nails, picking at them like her manicure is the most important thing she should be worrying about right now, instead of my fucking asshole that’s being threatened by the mousy bastard to her left.
More bids pass her by, and now she’s flat-out gossiping with the rich bitch at her side. “Oh, I did hear that Betty Jean got engaged,” Aries tells her with a rattling nod of her empty fuckin’ head.
It’s like she’s fucking forgotten all about me.
What. The. Fuck.
My jaw shoots pain through my skull from how hard I’m grinding my teeth. I can’t fucking talk. I can’t fucking move. I can only stare at her.
While she ignores me completely.
“T-t-three hundred crowns!” Cocksucker calls out, his pale claw-like hand shooting high into the air.
Silence follows.
The elderly fae woman at my side shifts a little. Waiting.
Waiting.
Waiting.
“Oh. Uh, I don’t know, like three-oh-five-ish. I think I have some change in my bra, just a sec,” Aries says as she peeks down into her fucking cleavage.
What. The. Fuck!
“Yeah, let’s do three-oh-five.” She nods to the auctioneer, and the woman smiles nervously as she looks from Aries to the beady-eyed fuck and then back again.
“We normally do bids by tens, Princess. It would be three-ten,” the woman says on a whisper.
“Ohhhh,” Aries gives this tight-lipped back-and-forth shake of her head, as if that last five fuckin’ crowns are really pressing her royal budget.
She gives me another once-over while I glare a hole through her pretty little empty head.
“Yeah. Uh. I guess—I guess that’ll be fine.”
“Perfect!” A sharp pin jams into my shoulder, and as I’m waved off the stage, I mouth Aries my thanks in the form of I Hate You.
She smirks at me, and when she blows me a fuck-you-too kiss, my heart skips a beat. I nearly choke as I swallow down the strange feelings. I meet Damien at the base of the stage, and he smiles at me like he, too, enjoyed Aries’s little performance.
The assholes.
A large fae man with a silver name tag that reads Cardence is speaking in quick fast words over a demon and a fae, but I barely pay any attention to him as Aries casually strides toward us. She smiles and shakes hands with nearly everyone she passes.
She’s here for us, but it seems she cares for them, too. Her people, they adore her.
It’s not hard to believe. She’s a beautiful woman. A powerful princess. A sexy fucking . . .
“I kind of feel bad for not letting that guy have you. He seems really upset,” she tells me as she peers back at the mousy cocksucker still watching me.
Scratch all the kind things I just said about her.
She’s a brat.
Always has been.
“You three are my last. Let’s go,” the large man, Cardence, calls to us. When he lifts his attention and realizes who he’s yelling at, he changes his tune. “Oh. Princess Aries, I didn’t recognize you. You’re as radiant as I remember.” His gaze drags over her body as he stares at her with a sort of starstruck admiration.
“Thank you. Are you performing the bindings today for my father, Cardence?” she asks him on an all-too-sweet voice. It’s like an angelic melody. I don’t even know who that voice is.
“Yes, I’ve been his binder for the last two years or so.”
“Great!” She holds her hand out, and before either of us reacts, she takes Damien’s hand in hers.
I don’t know what they’re doing. The temporary binding was just a quick spell of fast-spoken words that all blurred together in my dazed state. I don’t remember holding the fae king’s hand, though . . .
My brother’s gaze is locked on her with a sudden seriousness. I’ve never seen him look so lost and found all at the same damn time.
Is that what love fuckin’ looks like?
Does he love her?
My distracted thoughts slip away as Cardence’s meaty hand carefully takes theirs. He turns their wrists until Damien’s knuckles are facing him, and Aries’s small hand is hidden beneath my brother’s large one.
A long sharp pin lifts in the sunlight. Cardence holds it like a dagger instead of a thin little slice of metal. “I bind thee in magic. I bind thee blood. I bind your mind, your body, and your soul. Until death do thee part.”
Fuck that’s ominous.
Then he jams the pin right through the back of Damien’s hand and into Aries’s.
What the fuck.
Damien’s shoulders tense. His jaw steels.
He doesn’t make a fucking sound.
While Aries’s lips part with a gasping pain that I’ve never heard her make before. She breathes through it in cutting breaths. Her lashes flutter over and over again, and still that fucking cock nugget, Cardence, just keeps the pin in place, lodged in their fucking flesh.
“Just a bit longer, Princess. Gotta let the blood intertwine,” he mumbles.
Her lip trembles, and that’s my undoing.
I’m behind her in an instant. My hands clasp over her hips, and she sags into me when my chest barely brushes her back. Long silver hair teases my lips. Smooth, perfect skin is beneath my palms. And then her free hand is over mine. It’s a vice grip capable of crumbling every bone in my fingers.
And I let her.
“You’re okay, Crow.” I breathe the words without sound. I have no voice. But she understands.
She nods to me.
I hold her tighter.
She clings to my hand like she’ll never let me go.
Why the fuck do I like it?
“And done,” Fae Fuck Cardence says with an elaborate pull of his sharp pin. He slides it from their hands, and the very second she’s free, she turns to me and wraps her lithe body all against mine.
My heart drops like a stone into a boiling deadly cauldron.
Then my palms push down her back, and I feel every heartbeat in her chest. I hear every cutting breath in her lungs. I . . . I have all of her vulnerabilities in the palms of my hands.
I’ve never felt her like this before.
She’s never let me.
“Uh . . . alright. One more, correct?” Cardence interrupts, his sweaty fat head turning from her to me, and then back again.
Aries nods, her silver hair jarring against her small frame as she steps back from me. She releases me until only my hand is held in hers. Deep red blood slides over her knuckles and against my palm, but I never look away from her damp eyes.
She has to do it again.
Because of me.
I’m not even a demon. Some pretty little fae magic is really supposed to bind a seraph to a fae?
Doubtful.
We’re just putting her through more pain for no reason. But she won’t tell them my secret. And I have to keep that secret until my brother’s future is figured out.
Whenever the fuck that might be.
“I bind thee in magic. I bind thee blood. I bind your mind, your body, and your soul. Until death do thee part,” Cardence says on a bored, tired tone.
The threads I feel connecting me to the king fray. I feel them slip away like bindings that allow me my own voice once more. The pin slices through my skin like a blade blessed by the gods, and when it settles fully in, an unimaginable pain cuts through my heart.
“Fuck!” Deeper the agony pierces my soul, and in a matter of a single heartbeat, I realize this is much more than just physical pain that
Aries and Damien were experiencing.
And they handled it a bit better than I am.
“Son of a cock fucker!” I growl out before grinding my teeth together so hard I taste enamel.
A shaking laugh slips from Aries’s lips as tears stream down her smiling face.
The tiniest of smirks creases Cardence’s lips, and I lash out. My free hand clutches his throat, and fear snaps into place across his features as my nails sink deeply into his flesh. He never releases our hands.
“Zaviar,” Aries whispers.
Heat burns in my soul. It singes my veins. It scalds my flesh. Every part of me is on fucking fire.
Then the pin is pulled away.
The heat dulls. The pain retreats, and I finally release the man until he’s doubled over and gasping for air that I hope burns the fuck out of his lungs.
I’m still glaring down on him and wishing him ill will when her small hands push across my pecs. The wound against her palm is already healed. That’s the first thing I notice. The second is how fucking intense her eyes look. How pure her skin seems. How completely flawless she is.
She’s . . . always been pretty.
But now, it’s like everything about her has intensified.
My heart pulls, and all I want is to hold her again.
Her delicate hand lifts in the air. For a moment, I think she might cradle my head in her palm.
Then she whacks her hand against my dark hair.
“What are you thinking?” She hisses at me like an angry cat, and I feel so fucking dumbfounded. She just cursed my ass out, and I’m still puppy-dog eyeing her. What the fuck is wrong with me?
Maybe it’ll wear off. Maybe I’ve lost too much blood, I’m too sick, I actually passed out, and this is all just a weird fucking dream my subconscious is feeding me because I’ve checked out her rack one too many times . . .
“Are you listening to me?” she shrieks. “Never, never touch a high fae!” She stops wagging her long finger at me long enough to turn to Cardence Fuckington. “I am so sorry, Cardence. Please accept my apology on behalf of my creature.” She helps him stand to his full height, and though he glares hate messages at me, he wipes that look right off his face when he looks to her.