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The beast took another step closer. His expression shifted through several emotions before he nodded, and a mask dropped into place. “Well, seeing as how you’re here, this place is now your home.”

“Much to my chagrin.”

He flagrantly ignored that. “As Prince of Infernus, I take my role as protector seriously. It’s a wonder, truly, that you made it this far into my realm. Seeing that you stay under my roof, that protection extends to you, along with every worthy Inferni.”

“And where was that protection last night when you howled at me?” I didn’t know when I’d moved, but at some point, I dropped from the window to face him. Arms across my chest and brows furrowed, I glared with my chin high at the towering beast.

Mavros faltered, brows flicking up and lips parting on a response. He closed and opened his mouth a few times before grumbling. His fists were clenched and his tail increased to a rapid swish. Something akin to victory twirled through me at his stupefied pause.

“Do you treat all your guests with such courtesy?” I scoffed, and he scowled. “You cannot wage war when someone disagrees with you. Or is that the way of the Inferni populace?” My voice rose higher. “The imps treat me better than you have!”

“Oh, yes, the imps.” He rolled his fiery eyes. “Let’s speak of the rotten little creatures that are utterly enamored with you. They would set a great precedent for all interactions, wouldn’t they?” he asked sardonically.

Sylphs intrinsically deserved admiration. Our power drew creatures, including humans, from far and wide to bask in our presence. It was simply the regard fate owed us.

“As they should.”

But I faltered. My arms dropped, and I turned away.

No longer a sylph. Respect hardly mattered. “No—do not regard me at all.” My change in mood dropped the temperature by several degrees.

His heavy steps crossed the room. The warmth of his palm hovered a hair’s breadth from touching my shoulder before dropping. An unfounded tension released my spine.

“You are a lady of Infernus now. You are entitled to my regard and that of my subjects.” Mavros huffed, the sound almost endearing. “That is not why I’m here.”

“Why are you here?” I bit my tongue after the question escaped. I told myself I didn’t care, but curiosity held me hostage.

“Would you like a tour of the castle?” I whirled around, expression flaring. He stepped back, standing stiff and guarded, but maintained his penetrating stare.

It wasn’t an apology. With those eyes like fire burning bright as he watched me, I feared I would ignite and crumble to ash at his feet.

The quiet stretched, each of us taking stock of the other and mentally assessing potential next steps.

I could refuse and deny him, surely. What good would that do me?

I needed protection. Mavros offered it.

A dormant part of me, the lingering glow of a spirit in this unwanted body, begged for a chance to survive. An internal struggle caused havoc in my chest and mind. Survival and self-preservation won.

“Fine,” I sighed.

The pointed tips of his furry ears twitched up and his tail slowed to a pleased wag. “Follow me,” he said, turning on his heel. Half-stunned, I studied the motion of his tail as we exited my room.

I forgot the nightmare entirely by the time the tour slowed to an end.

An exhausting ordeal traipsing through dusty, cobwebbed corridors.

This unsteady body wasn’t sturdy enough for the travels I used to undertake flying through with the wind.

My thighs were burning and straining from fatigue by the time the sun kissed the horizon and dusk descended on the world.

Gradually, and with genuine effort, Mavros uncoiled from the tense visage of a tightly wound predator.

Yes, he looked like a beast on the surface, but hours passed in increasingly cordial, almost friendly company.

From tower to tower, from wing to wing, he relished me with tales of the castle in ages past and detailed the names of artists and crafters responsible for the expansive, and admittedly pointy, architecture and faded tapestries.

He uttered no verbal apology, but the extent of his explanations and the act of a personal tour conveyed an unspoken contrition.

Perhaps he’d never learned how to apologize, or Inferni weren’t familiar with the concept.

Either way, I was determined to learn, listen, observe, and express gratitude.

A monster on the outside he may be, but he was trying.

Prince Mavros explained that the Throne Hall was off limits at night when he was holding court with the Inferni audiences. I quipped that I didn’t mind avoiding something so tedious. He frowned but continued.

The dungeons and armory held no appeal to me, and he huffed with exasperation when I failed to fake interest in his weapons collection.

We skipped the crypts, though I noticed a flicker of tension in his expression as we did.

He placed his hand on my lower back to hasten me along, and the heat of his palm thoroughly distracted me from any rising questions.

“This place looks familiar,” I mused aloud.

Mavros had the decency to look chastened, tail drooping to the floor as we passed a wide hall. “Yes, this will be the Dining Hall.” He adjusted his collar and shook off his regret. “Along with the ballroom. Then the kitchens will be this way—”

My stomach growled at the mention.

The corner of his mouth twitched, and a traitorous grin curved my lips.

The kitchens were grand. A large hearth bore a hearty fire.

Several taller, lithe imps worked at the fire and central island chopping, slicing and working on more food than necessary.

A pleasant sense of ease suffused me when Mavros offered a plate of vegetables with nary a mention of the meat piled onto his plate.

And the red liquid he poured into my glass… now that was a treat. A mildly sweet, earthy drink that made my head feel wonderfully light and fuzzy. My skin warmed, and a persistent grin marked my face by my second glass.

“Alright, that’s enough of that,” Mavros grumbled, snatching the empty glass from my fingers.

“No, one more!” My petulant wail should have embarrassed me, but my inhibitions were low. I wanted to clamber across the island and snatch the bottle.

A deep throaty laugh reverberated through his chest. I paused, looking at Mavros with eyes as large as our empty plates.

It was a captivating sound, and I couldn’t take my eyes off him.

The way the hearth-fire played on the curve of his horns and brightened the darkness of his fur.

I wondered how sharp his tusks were jutting up against his top lip as they were …

“We should continue the tour,” his voice shattered the gratifying cloud wrapped around us. His eyes flicked up from my mouth, and I met his stare.

My breath hitched, but I nodded.

“Down this way there is a music room, though it’s been untouched for ages.

The tower at the top of this wing holds the observatory.

Plenty of tools for stargazing, but preferably at night,” he explained.

I had no idea what an observatory was, or a solarium, when he pointed that room out next.

It looked like one of the many sitting rooms, only with walls of glass.

“You can see the stars on clear nights, but this room is lovely during the day. The light is warm, and the view is enjoyable.”

Wistfulness in his tone struck me. He noted my silence and looked down. There were memories hiding behind his eyes, and though we had avoided personal topics and conversations, I found myself increasingly wondering about him as the night progressed. Who was this beast, this Prince of Infernus?

And while I was interested in the places he showed me, I committed to nothing.

A wall of impassivity remained firmly between me and each revelation.

Curiosity did not give way to importance.

Between the smog of the red drink pervading my mind and the mounting fatigue in my body, my thoughts drifted from the topic at hand.

“And here,” Mavros halted with a flourish. My traveling thoughts snapped into the present. “We have the library.”

“A library?” My words seemed slurred. I cleared my throat.

“A home for books.” He shoved the wide double doors and entered a cavernous darkness. I hesitated behind him, holding my breath until dozens of small lights snapped to life. A warm, golden glow swept through the space, lighting up the room with a gentle whoosh.

“Oh,” breached me.

A vast room with ceilings that stretched seemingly forever.

So high and far-reaching that shadows pervaded every nook.

Towering bookshelves created walls, forming a maze of polished wood and leather-bound tomes.

The arched ceilings depicted stained-glass murals muted by centuries of dust. Heavy velvet drapes hung on the lofty windows, obscuring the silver light outside.

“I must admit, I saved this room for last,” Mavros said, lingering behind me.

As if tugged by an outside force, I entered the library. The spines were soft under my fingertips, worn by age and use. The perfume of parchment and leather permeated the air. I trailed my hands over shelves bearing an astounding array of books, maps, scrolls, and random trinkets.

“Why is that?” I stopped my perusal at the base of a spiral staircase leading to a mezzanine level, squeezing the wrought iron and feeling the ornate carvings .

“In a world of brutality and savagery, it’s a relief to have a place of solitude to come to.

” Mavros paused behind me, the heat of his body radiating against my spine.

My breathing increased, heart rate escalating.

“Reading is a satisfying way to blur the lines of reality and lose yourself in something aside from your troubles.”

A desire to do that very thing ignited like a flint on steel in my chest.

“I wish I could do that.” I turned, breath stuttering from me as I saw just how near Mavros was. So tall, rising over me and casting me in his shadow. Head tipped back, I met his gaze. “I don’t know how to read.”

The warmth of his determination snuffed out the flash of surprise in his eyes. A smirk kicked at the corner of his lip, stressing the pointed tusk on that side. My heart wobbled when he tucked a finger under my chin.

“If you’d like, I can teach you.” His thumb, soft and warm despite the sharp claw at the end, stroked over my chin. His eyes lowered, growing darker. “I can teach you everything.”

There was something earnest and kind in him I hadn’t noticed until that moment, and I found it strangely compelling. “Yes, I think I’d enjoy that.”