Page 8 of Demon Seed (Mated to the Monster: Season 3)

Vesper

I press my forehead against the doorframe, my voice trembling as I plead with the unyielding barrier of wood instead of meeting Selene's gaze. It's been a torturous three hours since she barricaded herself inside.

"Selene," I implore, injecting every ounce of desperation into my voice. "No one here would ever harm you. They wouldn’t dare defy you. You are their queen, and all must kneel before your power."

The oppressive silence taunts me, but I can feel her presence like a charged current beyond the door. She's listening, even if she's silent.

"Cassian may look terrifying with those teeth, but he's practically a librarian. All he ever does is read. And yes, Morrigan's laugh is unsettling, but she only uses it when she finds something genuinely amusing. She’s looking forward to having another female around.” I pause, wondering if humor might reach her where reassurance fails. "In fact, I think she’s already planning the wedding."

A soft sound from within—perhaps a stifled laugh?

I press on. "You don't have to come out if you're not ready. But at least let me bring you something to eat? The kitchen prepared honey cakes because she heard nymphs enjoy sweets.”

The lock clicks. The door opens just wide enough for me to see one eye peering out, suspicious but curious.

"They're not… watching me, are they?" Selene’s voice is barely above a whisper. "The others. I can feel their power. It's everywhere in this place."

I want to reach for her hand but resist the impulse. "They're curious, that's all. A nymph in our midst is unusual. But I've made it clear they shouldn’t approach you unless you ask for them."

I take Selene's hand gently in mine, her fingers cold and trembling slightly as we step from the safety of our chambers. Her eyes dart nervously down the long corridor, taking in the ancient tapestries and suits of armor that have become so familiar to me, yet must seem like sentinels of some foreign world to her.

"It's alright." I give her hand a reassuring squeeze. "No one will disturb us at this hour. Most of the residents are still at rest."

Selene nods, though the tension doesn't leave her shoulders. The silver moonlight spills through the tall windows, illuminating her face in a way that makes my breath catch. Even in her fear, she is magnificent.

I can't stop myself from watching Selene's face as we move through the castle corridors. Each new sight draws a different expression from her—wonder as we pass beneath the vaulted ceilings of the Great Hall, curiosity at the ancient tapestries depicting battles long forgotten, and a hesitant smile when I show her the hidden passage behind the third bookshelf in the eastern wing.

"This way," I say, guiding her toward the western wing. "I want to show you something that might make you feel more at home."

We pass through the grand hall, our footsteps echoing against the stone floor. Selene gasps when we enter the library, its ceiling stretching impossibly high, shelves upon shelves of books disappearing into shadow.

"It's beautiful," she breathes, and for the first time since her arrival, I see a spark of genuine wonder in her eyes.

"This is yours as much as mine now," I tell her, watching as she tentatively approaches a shelf, her fingers hovering over leather-bound spines. "Every volume and every corner of this castle."

When she turns to look at me, there's something new in her expression—not entirely trust, but perhaps the beginning of it. And I’m desperate enough to welcome whatever acceptance she offers.

I guide Selene into the throne room, my hand resting lightly on the small of her back. She hesitates at the threshold, her eyes widening as she takes in the vaulted ceiling, the obsidian pillars that rise like ancient trees, and the throne itself—carved from a single massive piece of midnight stone that seems to swallow light rather than reflect it.

"It's not what you expected," I say. Not a question.

Selene glances at me, a flicker of something—defiance, perhaps—crossing her features before she masks it. "I expected something more…"

"Ostentatious?" I offer, watching the subtle changes in her expression. The way she holds herself, poised between flight and confrontation.

"Warm," she finally says.

I can't help the laugh that escapes me, brief and genuine. "Warmth isn't something my kind are known for."

Selene steps forward, breaking contact with my hand, and I immediately miss the connection. She moves toward the throne with measured steps, her silver dress catching what little light exists in this chamber.

"May I?" she asks, her hand hovering near the throne's armrest.

With a smile, I hear myself say, "Yes."

As Selene approaches my throne, Morrigan's knee hits the marble floor with a soft thud, her armor catching the light from the high windows. Selene stiffens beside me, her fingers twitching slightly at the formal display.

"My queen," Morrigan says, head bowed so that her copper hair falls forward to obscure her face. "I am forever at your service."

I can feel the weight of the throne room pressing down on us—the ancient statues watching, the carved faces in the stonework judging. Selene hasn't grown accustomed to this yet—the deference and responsibility that come with her title. And frankly, neither have I.

"Rise, Captain," I say when Selene remains silent for a beat too long. "What news from the east?"

Morrigan stands, her movements fluid despite the armor. Her eyes flick to me briefly before returning to Selene. There's something there—hesitation, perhaps concern—that makes my skin prickle.

"There is movement on the Divine Peaks. We’ve spotted fae converging at the base, but they appear reluctant to move farther into your realm, Your Majesty. They appeared shortly after the queen’s arrival.” She pauses, squaring her shoulders. "And there are whispers of shadow creatures moving along our eastern border."

Selene's hand finds mine, her grip tight enough that I can feel her pulse hammering against my skin. "My grandmother is a Lampade—a nymph of the underworld—and I believe she’s summoned help from the goddess of night." Breaking our connection, Selene wrings her hands and strides to the closest east-facing window.

I watch Selene's face pale as she stares into the Forbidden Forest. Her fingers clutch the sill, knuckles whitening against the weathered wood.

"They're here," she whispers, not turning to face me.

I cross the room in three strides, careful to stay back from the glass. "Who?"

She nods, a barely perceptible movement. "My grandmother must have sent them. See the one with the silver hair? That's Ursula. She can track anything that bleeds. I don’t recognize the others.”

I peer cautiously around the edge of the curtain. Three women stand at the tree line, unnaturally still among the swaying branches. The silver-haired one tilts her face toward our window, as if she can sense us watching.

"They cannot enter the castle," I say, already gathering Selene into my arms. "No witch can breach the magic protecting it. Their only hope is to draw you outside."

Selene turns to me, biting her quivering bottom lip. "I don’t know how they found me so fast."

“It's entirely plausible to believe that your parents have always been aware that I was destined to be your mate. Why else would they go to such lengths to keep you confined like a virtual prisoner on the mountain? Many nymphs, witches, and elves possess the extraordinary gift of foresight, allowing them glimpses into the future. However, no one wants a demon in their family.”

Selene's eyes widen, then narrow as she processes my words. She steps back, fingers fiddling with the amulet around her neck. "That can't be right," she says, but there's a waver in her voice. "My mother always said the mountain was for my protection."

"Protection from what, exactly?" I ask, turning from the window. The valley below stretches for miles, reminding her how isolated her life has been. "From the world? Or from me specifically?"

She shakes her head, dark waves catching the fading light. "They wouldn't?—"

"Wouldn't they?" My voice comes out harsher than intended. I soften it, reaching for her hand. "Think about it, Selene. The ancient texts speak of demon-nymph pairings as catastrophic. Your parents probably saw our bond in their divinations and panicked."

A tear slides down her cheek. "Eighty years. They’ve kept me away from you for eighty years. Why? "

"Because they knew what would happen if we met." I brush the tear away with my thumb, my skin dark against her luminous paleness. "The moment our eyes met in the woods, the bond snapped into place. They couldn't stop fate, only delay it."

Selene’s fingers tighten around mine. "And now?"

"Now we decide if we're the catastrophe they feared." I yank her closer, our bodies colliding with an electric intensity, the heat between us igniting into a blazing inferno. "Or something far greater than ourselves, something unstoppable."