Page 18 of To Dwell in Shadows (Shadows of Aurelia #2)

S elene’s heart ached at the wince Sam gave when the crowd erupted in cheers following Asmodeus’s grand introduction.

He stood alone on the raised dais beside the royal banquet table, head bowed, shoulders rigid with the weight of too many memories.

She couldn’t imagine the pain twisting inside him.

He rarely talked about his time fighting in the blood wagons, and Selene never pried.

But if there was one thing she knew for certain, it was that he never wanted to kill again.

The strange creature Sam created had made Selene’s skin crawl—but now the hollow look in his eyes nearly broke her. Unable to bear seeing her mate so devastated, Selene moved through the hall toward him.

She stopped halfway when Ghar began inspecting the pile of swallowed demons.

There were nearly fifty of them—a twisted mass of claws, wings, and scales.

When Ghar nudged a demon wedged sideways, its tail twitched.

Then one of the demons near the top groaned.

Another let out a shriek. The mound began to writhe and squirm.

Selene’s eyes widened. They’re not dead .

Relief cut through the fog of fear the creature had left in its wake. Without hesitation, she shoved her way forward again, toward Sam.

When their eyes met, she shouted, “They’re alive!” But he didn’t seem to hear her.

As Selene stepped onto the platform beside him, she saw anguish etched into his face.

“I was trying to protect you,” he said hoarsely. “I didn’t want to kill any of them.”

“Oh, honey, you didn’t kill anyone. Look.” She pointed toward the heap of demons, now beginning to shrink as bodies were pulled free. “They’re okay.”

One by one, Ghar helped extract the demons from the pile. Some collapsed on the ground; others limped away, groaning. A few clutched broken limbs or staggered with visible wounds. They were gravely injured, yes—but alive.

Sam stared in disbelief. “That creature… I don’t know how I created it. I called the shadows, and it just… appeared.”

“You have powers you didn’t know you had,” Selene said gently.

He pulled her closer. “It wouldn’t obey me. But it listened to you.”

Selene shrugged. “I was just closer to it.”

Asmodeus approached them expectantly. “Would you like to address your subjects, son?”

“No,” Sam said.

“Come now. You must say something.”

“I’d rather not.”

“Don’t be petulant,” Lamia added. “It’s as important to build goodwill among your subjects as it is to demonstrate your strength.”

When Sam ignored her and turned to sit, Asmodeus grabbed his elbow. “Address them,” he barked.

Sam yanked his arm free, but then Asmodeus announced, “And now, a word from our lost prince!”

Selene watched as Sam scanned the banquet hall, taking in the mix of awe and apprehension on the demons’ faces. He straightened his shoulders and said, “Greetings. I-I’m grateful to be back in the Underworld.” Then, under his breath to Selene, “Should I acknowledge what just happened?”

She hesitated. “Just say something like you’re sorry for the interruption.”

“Apologies for the interruption. Please be seated, and let’s begin the feast.”

The unease in the room began to lift when imps swooped in with platters of food. Queen Thema kicked a shattered plate aside and settled near Lamia. Asmodeus reached across the table, patting Sam’s shoulder. “Well done, Samael. I’ve never seen anything like that before.”

“It was very impressive,” Lamia added with a smile. “And effective.”

“I didn’t do it on purpose!” Sam protested. “I don’t even know how it happened. It’s never happened before.”

“Even better,” Asmodeus said. “You have untapped power within. Now, what caused all this fuss, anyway?”

Queen Thema sniffed disdainfully. “Your subjects thought it would be amusing to trick some of the lost souls who roam this realm into believing they were being tortured. Your Guide”—she gestured toward Vanthee, who sat alone with her arms crossed—“attempted to stop their barbaric game. I lent her my support, and a brawl began.”

“Seems like a lot of fuss over nothing,” Queen Lamia said coolly.

Thema clutched her chest. “Sister, there were Aurelians among those being affected. That is unacceptable!” She shook her head, scoffing. “When I host an event, I make certain my subjects are suitably entertained at all points during the celebration. I suggest you do the same.”

“Well, this isn’t Aurelia, and your unsolicited advice isn’t welcome,” Queen Lamia snapped. “Those souls are simply echoes, not living beings. ”

“And that sanctions cruelty? No. The expressions on those poor souls’ faces is something I won’t soon forget,” Thema replied.

Selene silently agreed. Watching those spirits—or ghosts or whatever they were—suffer had been heartbreaking. Why was the land of the dead so callous to the ones already lost? She searched the room for the spectral forms, but they had all vanished.

A pair of imps set down plates of roasted meat before them. Another brought a basket of bread and began filling their goblets with wine. Selene was still buzzing with adrenaline, so she could only pick at her food and listen to the murmur of demon voices humming through the hall.

In between courses, Mammon approached the table and bowed before Sam.

“May I be the first from the Legion of Temptation to welcome you home, Prince Samael. I am Mammon, demon of Greed and one of your father’s most trusted advisors.

” Rivulets of grease were running down the sides of his mouth, and bits of shredded meat stuck to his bare chest.

“Thank you,” Sam said, obviously trying to hide his revulsion. “I am pleased to meet you.”

Mammon held Sam’s gaze for an uncomfortably long time, then turned to King Asmodeus. Speaking in low tones, he said, “Your son’s emergence signifies a new contender for Dark Sovereign, does it not?”

“It does.”

Selene shot Sam a questioning look. He responded by mouthing, Later.

“Good, good.” Mammon began using his long fingernails to pick his teeth.

He continued to hover, looking between Sam and the king, until Asmodeus said, “Leave us, Mammon. We’ll speak of this at a council meeting later.”

“Of course.” Mammon bowed again and clomped back to his seat.

Taking their cue from Mammon, other well-wishers approached until it became a continuous stream of demons introducing themselves to Sam.

Selene watched the subtle way Sam’s posture tightened with each passing minute.

He answered politely, even managed a few forced smiles, but she could see he was barely holding it together.

When King Asmodeus finally rose and declared the celebration of Sam’s return concluded, Sam didn’t waste a second. He reached for Selene’s hand and said, “Let’s go.”

Together, they slipped away from the banquet hall, leaving the noise and crowd behind.

Back in their chambers, the fire in the hearth crackled softly. Selene helped Sam out of his tunic, brushing her fingers over his shoulders. “Do you want to talk about it?” she asked, more invitation than pressure.

He gave a small shake of his head. She nodded, giving him the space he needed. A hot bath would’ve felt incredible after such a trying day, but she was too tired to do anything but change into her nightgown.

Sam undressed wordlessly and lay back on the bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling. For a long time, there was only the sound of their breathing and the occasional pop of fire from the hearth. Finally, he spoke.

“I think the shadows became a hydra because I wanted to protect you from each of those Lust demons. I let my instincts flow, and that’s what manifested.”

“That makes sense,” Selene said carefully.

He was silent for several more minutes. Then he said, “But before the banquet, after you and Thema left… my parents told me something.”

“What was it?”

His words came slowly at first, but once he began, the story spilled out in a rush.

He told her what his parents had revealed about the Dark Sovereign.

Selene listened calmly, even as her thoughts churned.

It all sounded like something from a movie.

A year ago, she might have dismissed it as fantasy. But now? Anything was possible.

When Sam finished, Selene climbed into bed next to him and said, “No ruler for a whole century? That’s terrifying.”

“I know,” Sam said. He pressed his fingers to his temples. “But why must it be me? Blood alone isn’t reason enough. I’m not fit to rule—and I don’t want to.”

“Did you tell them that?”

“Yes. I said so last night as well. But they believe I will change my mind now that I know the severity of the situation.”

“It seems so archaic. Is there really no guidance on who’s meant to be the next king?”

“Apparently there was a prophecy in a book called The Sovereign’s Reckoning that foretold my father’s reign, but it was destroyed centuries ago.”

Selene turned on her side to face him, propping her head up with one hand. “So if there’s no prophecy, how were they planning to find a new ruler before you showed up? What was the backup plan?”

Sam gave a small, humorless shrug. “I don’t think they had one. Perhaps a vote by the council? I hate that they’ve placed all their hope on me like this.”

Selene nodded, mulling over the idea that was beginning to take shape in her mind. “Well, here’s a thought,” she said, lifting a brow, “what if you made the plan?”

He turned his head toward her.

“You don’t want the throne, right? So be part of the process instead. Use your time here to help find the next Dark Sovereign. You can be Head of Recruitment, as we say in the HR world.”

“How would I do that?”

“Interview candidates. Screen them, test them, check their references. What qualities are important for the Dark Sovereign to have?”

“Power and cunning. Decisiveness. Resilience. ”

“Hmm, that’s hard to spot in a sit-down interview,” Selene said. Images began to flash through her mind of demons engaged in contests of strength, wit, and cunning, each vying to stand out. “What if you created some kind of trial or games to test the candidates?”

Sam seemed to consider it. “A tournament, perhaps. A gauntlet for those who want to rule. Something to measure their worth.”

“Exactly. You could design it, and if someone stands out, you could help them win. No such thing as cheating in the Underworld, right?”

The furrow between Sam’s brows began to soften. “This could work.”

Selene placed her hand on his chest. “Sam, you’ve worked so hard to reach a place where you don’t owe anyone anything. You don’t have to be the Dark Sovereign.” Her voice softened. “Maybe you’re just meant to find him.”

Sam gave her a small smile. “Once again, you’ve put my mind at ease. Thank you,” he said before turning to kiss her good night.