Page 34

Allie

I have a court.

I’m wearing a crown.

Like a demented fairytale princess, with a demon husband and two realms to save rather than a dashing knight and some charming little sparrows to sing me good morning and help me do my hair.

“Allie,” Eren says again, sensing my hesitation. “Are you ready?”

Nodding, I take Eren’s arm, and two other demons step forward from the shadows on either side of the massive doors to open them for us.

The throne room is cavernous. Soaring stone walls, hanging chandeliers whose candles drip wax stalactites, long tables on either side filled with what looks to be at least five hundred winged demons.

Overwhelmed, I tighten my grip on Eren’s arm as the demons of the court rise and shout greetings to us as we pass.

“A comely one, she is!”

“Marked and claimed, well met your majesty!”

“Has she any magick to spare? I’d like a taste.”

At that last comment, Eren shoots out an arm and catches the offending demon around the neck, tossing him to the stone floor. The demon’s head makes an unpleasant crack when it hits. I’m horrified, but all around there are good humored laughs and jeers at the act of violence.

Eren turns back to me, a sharp grin on his face. When he sees the stunned expression on mine, it grows even wider.

“Are you not pleased, wife? I defend your honor.”

Behind us, the demon who gave the lewd comment stirs, groans dramatically and earns himself another round of jeers from the crowd.

Goddess above, these demons.

It’s their culture, I suppose. And mine too, now. Taking a steadying breath, I try for an expression of bored, aloof indifference.

I shrug. “Defend it if you want. I personally wouldn’t waste the energy on such a weak male.”

Eren’s eyes gleam, and the demons around us hoot at the insult. The male on the floor growls and tries to rise.

“You’ll stay down, if you know what’s good for you,” Eren snaps at him.

Straightening his coat, he takes my arm again and leads us forward up a stone dais. At the top, a magnificent obsidian throne is flanked by candelabras and two hanging banners emblazoned with what must be the royal crest. Despite its opulence, a problem presents itself immediately.

“I don’t get a seat?”

Eren leans down to speak into my ear. “You get the best seat in the hall.”

I don’t have time to react before he settles himself on the throne and tugs me into his lap. Squirming with the indignity of it, I crane my neck back and give him a disbelieving look.

“I’m not sitting in your lap. I’m not a child.”

He stills me with a firm hand on my hip. “No, most definitely not a child.”

His other hand tugs my hair back, exposing his bite, and he runs his tongue over it in front of every demon in the court. It’s a claiming, base and primal. And damn it all, it should infuriate me, make me want to slap him away, but I’m powerless to do anything but arch against him, dig my nails into the bare skin of his chest under the jacket.

A fresh round of lusty cheers rises from the court.

“Damn it,” I mutter. “What’s up with the bite? Why does it do that to me?”

“It’s a mark of my claim,” he says, running his tongue over it again. “Does it make you hot, Allie, when I remind you who you belong to?”