Page 25

The scent of floral soap followed me from the bath and along the winding castle halls.

I almost resented it for cleansing his smell from my skin, but the imps insisted on a thorough lather.

There were a few stubborn leaves in my hair.

Not that I made a habit of looking in mirrors.

A woman stared back at me through the glass, and I did not know her.

The shame of seeing the wrong reflection plagued me, and I lacked the courage to look.

Perhaps I never would.

But Mavros did. Whoever this woman was, this Astoria, he seemed to care for her.

The countless hours spent cooped up in the library analyzing language, speech, and letters.

All the energy he put into teaching a stranger from another world was unprecedented.

And in that time, those small moments grew into large pillars, a foundation for learning and knowing and… and caring.

The beast prince cared, and he hungered with a passion that almost frightened me.

It should. It didn’t. In the light of a new day, I found myself in that library, pacing along the magnificent rows of books harboring centuries of knowledge.

My fingers ghosted over the spines, and I mentally practiced pronouncing their titles as I passed.

What I had come to think of as our table in the coziest section of the library was still scattered with the remnants of our previous lesson.

In his favored large, cushioned wingback chair, I picked up the last novel he’d been reading to me.

The lord of demons had responsibilities, yet he chose to spend his time with me reading aloud tales of scholars and adventurers. Tales of heroes and lovers.

Those stories of heroes rarely mentioned the guilt of being the lone survivor.

A weight I carried, heavy and prickly in the tomb of my ribs.

A darkness that stuck to my skin like grime in the darkest, loneliest hours.

A shadow accompanying my every step and choking out the light struggling to keep its place in my heart.

But I wasn’t a hero, and after witnessing the blood on the beast’s hands, I knew neither was he.

This morning, after my carnal awakening at his hands, I thought of the thin smiles he shared over books in the comforting warmth of our intimate afternoons.

They made my heart swell. A human heart with human feelings fit for a mortal with an inhuman lover.

I wanted to believe that Mavros shared those feelings, that they weren’t a rehearsed seduction technique.

Where had he disappeared to ?

This wouldn’t be the first time he’d left the castle. But it was the first he’d gone without so much as a subtle nod in acknowledgment. Nothing but silence sitting heavy like a shroud.

At first light, I had missed Mavros. I wanted to wake to his face, and his warmth, and his arms around me.

The bedding was still toasty, but it wasn’t him.

He hadn’t even left a note. Nothing more than his scent clinging to the pillow.

If not for the satisfied ache in my core, I might have convinced myself last night was one of my many dreams.

Though I suppose it was better this way with him on some royal task and my time free to think about the changes sweeping me away. The lonesome quiet of the library provided the perfect atmosphere for deep thinking.

Air spirits didn’t feel emotions of this caliber.

If I had gotten to the point where I concerned myself with feelings and carnal desires, there might not be any semblance of a sylph left in me.

Changes I could contend with in some semblance.

I’d seen the rise and fall of man’s empires countless times.

My own metamorphosis, however, remained a fresh wound gaping in the center of my being.

The grief of losing my life, my world, my identity, would sit within me as deep and unchanging as a grave.

The beast’s devotion and the passing of time might ease that agony like flowers blooming over desiccated bones beneath the earth.

A rustle in the shadows made me jump .

“My, my, you’re a skittish thing today.” Domovoy’s feline voice drifted from a nearby row of shelves. The candles on his head puffed to life, revealing his silhouette. His yellow eyes blinked curiously as he unfurled himself from the shelf ledge with a lazy stretch.

“Why aren’t you off chasing some imp or mouse?” I dropped the unread book on my lap. “Why are you here, lurking in the shadows?”

Surely, he had someone else to bother.

“Lurk?” He purred in feigned offense. He leapt down with smoky grace and padded silently across the floor to the rug spread out before the fireplace. “Oh, my lady, I would never stoop so low as to lurk.”

“Spying then?”

His whiskers twitched. “Observing,” he corrected.

“Mavros would believe you, I’m sure.” I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms. Domovoy remained sitting on the rug, head cocked, as he watched me. The silence caused a prickle along my neck.

“I have seen through the veil many times, my lady,” he said. My stomach twisted. “And I see what you are.”

My heart stopped.

“I am nothing and no one.”

He padded closer, fluffy tail swishing along behind him. The cat spoke plainly. “I am full Inferni, my lady. I can see through magic in a way our master cannot.” A revelation sat in those words, but I couldn’t wrap my mind around anything more than my rising panic.

“You know nothing!” I tore myself from the chair. The leather-bound book thumped on the thick rug.

“I might not know everything,” he winced as if ashamed to admit it, “but I know this. I know you are—were—an air elemental. A rare spirit from Earth. A sylph. A myth, even to those of us in Infernus.”

“No. No, I’m not what you think.” I stumbled back, breath catching too fast and shallow.

“No use in lying. It doesn’t serve either of us.” He harrumphed. “You were changed by dark magic and now something has chased you right into our home.”

Domovoy was a nefarious little imp. A demon as tricky as the rest of them. If he knew I was hunted by the Crimson Mage, he might sell me out. The cat had wanted to send me to the dungeon upon arrival. He would betray me while Mavros was gone and doom me to a horrid fate.

The walls pressed in, and the edges of my vision blurred. No matter how hard I fought for breath, it felt as though I couldn’t get any air. My legs wobbled and if not for the chair pressed to the backs of my legs, I would have collapsed.

Sensing my rising panic. Domovoy approached. Slowly, warily. The glint of fire in his eyes softened to embers. “My lady, I am not your enemy.”

“I don’t believe you.” I clawed at my chest, fighting against the creature bullying my heart.

Domovoy paused out of reach. His tail brushed over the rug as he sat looking up at me. “I promise I’m not here to get you carted off to the dungeon or exchanged to whatever beastie wants you. I’m here on behalf of my master.”

The knot in my stomach loosened.

“What about him?” My mind summoned images of his mouth on my skin and his body locked with mine. A poorly timed blush chased some of my anxiety away.

“He is my master.” It was the gentlest the shadow cat had ever sounded. “And he deserves to know the truth.”

I shook my head. “I can’t tell him.”

“He’s never been this way before, my lady.

My master does not dabble in long-term dalliances.

He is a Karsian prince, made of shadows and hunger, born to rule.

Yet you come along, and you make him soft.

Though I won’t hold it against you. It’s what his mother would have wanted.

” If cats could offer a friendly smile, I might have believed he was.

“His mother?” I perked up.

The cat moved on. “My master has been lost for so long. You’ve found him.”

“But if he knew what I really was—”

“Remaining silent is worse than whatever outcome you imagine, I assure you.” His tail flicked. “My master would be accommodating because, and I shudder to admit, but he cares. Truly. But a home cannot be built on a foundation of lies.”

I opened my mouth to reply, but a clamor down the hall shut me up. My jaw snapped closed. Domovoy’s ears twitched. A distant crash, shouts, and slamming doors echoed across the castle.

“Something’s happened.” Domovoy leapt into a formless cloud of black smoke and whisked toward the library doors. My heart jumped into my throat as I tore after him. Chest thumping, lungs heaving in air, I raced around corners and rushed to follow the unsettling noises.

Two goat-horned demons were dragging Mavros between them. Limp, head-lolling, blood dripping from his side and smearing across the floor.

“No!” A cry ripped from my throat.

His leathers were shredded, stained with mud and blood. His jaw clenched against pain, as if refusing to utter a groan and show weakness. Exasperation flared in me even as I noted the wound in his shoulder, wet with gushing blood.

“Follow me,” I ordered before realizing I was speaking. “Now.”

The Inferni blinked. Domovoy hissed.

They obeyed.

The best rooms were too far away in the damnable maze of a castle.

The Inferni followed me back to the library as the nearest room where we could make him comfortable.

The demons laid Mavros down in front of the fireplace and Domovoy blinked a roaring flame to life within.

I snatched pillows and shawls from the plush chairs to place under his head and ease the shivering in his body.

Mavros slumped, heavy and drained. My hands shook as I fumbled with his leathers to examine his wound.

“I need cloth and water. And whatever healing salves are available,” I barked out.

“Yes, my lady.” The demons scampered off.

“You damn fool,” I seethed under my breath. The clasps tore under my hands as I freed his shoulder. Dark blood matted the downy fur, and a sob rose in my throat.

“I’ll be alright,” Mavros croaked. His first actual sign of life and it sparked my anger.

“Worse than a deer gutted by one of those large metal contraptions humans love to zoom around in. And you know what? I always felt bad for them.” I went on a tirade, not stopping even as the Inferni returned with supplies.

I got to work dunking a cloth in warm water.

“In this case, I don’t think I can feel bad for you.

I see you bleeding all over the floor after you leave me without saying goodbye, and all I can think is ‘that’s exactly what that bastard deserves.

’ Yet you have the gall to say you’ll be alright bleeding like this. ”

I poured water on his shoulder. Mavros hissed and recoiled.

I didn’t apologize.

“What happened, Mavros?” I demanded .

“An incident. Nothing more.”

“An incident?” My voice rose on the verge of being shrill even to my own ears. “With what?” Fear wove through my concern and anger, twisting into an asphyxiating lump in my throat.

I pressed the soaked cloth against the wound to clean it. Harder than necessary. “Tell me the truth.”

Mavros grunted, the sound almost a snarl as his eyes clenched. “It’s nothing to concern you.”

“Nothing to—” I fisted the cloth and glared down at him, nostrils flaring. “Mavros, you infuriating beast!”

His rumbling voice lowered. “You simply don’t need to know, Astoria.”

“I do!” My voice broke, all my suppressed emotions erupting between us. “You can’t leave me like you did this morning and come home to me like… like this. I saw you and I thought… Oh, gods, I thought—”

I couldn’t finish. Couldn’t voice the morbid thought without spiraling.

Mavros opened his eyes, dark and deep with something unreadable. “I’m alive.”

“This time.” I scowled at him.

“It was nothing.”

I glared harder.

He pursed his lips and looked away.

“You’re lying,” I whispered.

He didn’t reply.

The fire crackled, breaking up the ensuing silence. I almost regretted wishing for his return. If I had known he would come back like this, I wouldn’t have—

I sighed.

I cleaned his wound, letting the quiet wrap around us.

He winced under my touch. “You’re upset.”

“What makes you say that?” I scrubbed his blood away, and not gently. “Could it be because you vanished the morning after we… after last night, and returned bleeding from a wound dangerously close to your heart? Obviously attacked and lying to my face about it. How else am I intended to feel?”

“But I told you I’m fine,” the beast insisted.

“You are not fine,” I hissed. Perhaps I was speaking about myself, but anger was bleeding through me as profusely as his wound on the rug. “Injured and lying. I’m furious, Mavros.”

I dipped my fingers into the green salve the Inferni provided and began to spread it over the gash. He turned his face toward me, staring contemplatively. A flicker of remorse, and something else, darted through his burning gaze.

“I thought last night meant something—”

“It did,” he blurted, the arm on his uninjured side shooting out to grab my wrist. I faltered under the strength in his grip, still powerful despite his blood loss and the warmth of his touch. “Gods, it meant everything , Astoria.”

“I don’t believe you when you’re pushing me away like this. ”

“I’m not keeping things from you to save face. I’m trying to protect those I care about.” He pulled my blood-stained fingers to his face. Pressed his lips to the erratic pulse at my wrist.

I froze.

“You don’t have to worry about anything, Astoria,” he said. “Not with me.”

He cared, truly.

I sat there, kneeling on the blood-soaked rug beside him, and grounded myself in his presence.

Home , I had said.

In that fragile moment, I allowed myself to care. Even though it was too human. Even though it hurt.