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“You can understand her?” Dove tugged at his wrist. “What is she saying? And why do I feel like yesterday? Like I’m being pulled? Does she need water? Or food? Is that it? Maybe some toys? Honestly, this whole place could do with some enrichment.”

Melchom’s head whipped between the hellhound and his gift going on and on about dog training knowledge. Melchom didn’t care to dip in to see where he’d gotten all that information from.

“Hellhounds are very primitive in their speech,” he said.

He was just making time to figure out what was going on. It had been centuries since a hellhound had last claimed a master. It was practically unheard of. Their masters were always Kings, though—or Princes, a couple of times, when they were destined to grab a crown.

Gaz’s tail kept wagging, talons wrecking the stone beneath them as she tried to unshackle herself. In the meantime, Melchom’s world felt like it was tumbling down.

Astaroth’s recited scriptures slammed into him.

“Will the one who fell reclaim his crown?

Or will he be suffocated by the one who loves?

Two outcomes shall come, both just and sound

A king will rise again

But will it be the fearing demon, or the soaring gift?

What shall happen to the losing part

The winner shall decide.”

Hellhounds bonded to Kings. Sometimes, Kings to be.

Melchom took a step back, faltering in his step.

“Melchom?” He heard his human talking to him, felt his hands on his sides, but it sounded distorted. In the background. “Are you okay?”

Melchom was face to face with another usurper. Again.

“Gaz is yours.” Denying that fact, or not giving her to him, would only lead to more trouble. The more impatient the beast got, the more havoc she would wreak. She would get out of the cave, one way or another. Melchom was just trying to lessen the damage. “She’d better not break a thing.”

“We’re… taking her?” Dove didn’t sound convinced.

Melchom couldn’t blame him. “It’s your lucky day.”

There were a few details he had to work out, but at least he would’ve held off a disaster. It would have been a disaster.

“Come on.” Melchom unlatched the leash from Gaz’s collar. “Walk behind me. Not a word.”

Melchom didn’t wait. It wasn’t like the hellhound was quiet. He heard her huffs and tiny whines and pants as she tried to get as much attention out of her human as she could. He’d have to have a talk with her, but not in front of his Dove.

You will respect he’s my property. I come first.

Master first.

Melchom groaned out loud. He didn’t care that the human heard him, or that Dove faltered in his step.

Come on, Dove.

Master! Good Master!

Melchom pinched the skin between his eyebrows. They were close to his chambers, but he was already getting a headache.

“You,” he gritted out to Gaz the second they were inside, “are going to stay quiet.” He whirled around to face Dove then. “And you are gonna keep her under control. Are we clear?”