Page 22 of To Dwell in Shadows (Shadows of Aurelia #2)

S am kicked a loose stone along the path to the royal dining room. It had been over two weeks since they arrived in the Underworld, and he’d barely seen Selene. It was making him irritable.

When he wasn’t training in the Sanctum, he was being pulled into one royal duty after another.

Though no one wanted to speak of the Dark Sovereign when he brought it up, it was clear his parents were preparing him for it.

They insisted he observe and take part in every aspect of court life.

So far, he’d presided alongside his father at a ceremony honoring the demons of Wrath, signed a decree legalizing nudity in the Chapel of Mourning, and sat through several meals with distant relatives he barely remembered.

Most nights, when he finally crawled into bed around midnight, he and Selene could only exchange a few words before she drifted back to sleep.

Once, she’d forced herself to rise at dawn to catch a moment with him, saying something about her sister, but an imp had interrupted them, claiming urgent royal business.

For all the supposed privileges of being a prince, Sam was growing bitter that he hadn’t managed to carve out even an hour for himself .

And now, his mother wanted to have dinner with him privately.

A demoness bowed as she passed, and Sam gave a curt nod. As much as he had resented being feared by the Aurelians, being revered by demons was worse. Every word, gesture, and expression seemed to invite commentary and exaggerated praise—especially from Vanthee, who never seemed far from his side.

When Sam pulled open the doors to the royal dining room, he was surprised to see the space dark. A large blanket had been spread in the corner of the room, and Queen Lamia was lighting candles around it.

“What is this?” Sam asked.

“There you are,” Queen Lamia said, turning to him with a smile. “I thought we could share a picnic on the dining room floor as we used to. Do you remember?”

When Sam was a boy, he usually took meals in the kitchen since he was too small to fit in the large dining room chairs.

One night, after begging to dine with his parents, his mother had taken pity on him and moved their meal to the floor, picnic-style.

This had delighted young Sam so much that it became a tradition for him and his mother on evenings when Asmodeus was engaged elsewhere.

Lamia settled herself on top of the blanket then patted the space beside her.

Sam sat down. He realized he was now more than a head taller than his mother, even while sitting.

On her face he could see worry lines carved between her brows and signs of age on her hands.

Though she was a demi-goddess, it seemed she was not immune to the effects of time.

Lamia gazed out the windows into the night-blooming garden while Sam adjusted the clasp of his boot. This was the first time they had been truly alone since his return, and each seemed unsure of what to say.

“How was your day? Were you training in the Sanctum?” Lamia said.

"Yes," Sam replied. His ability to deliver vengeance was improving, but he evaded the question every time Borias asked when he was going to face Zaybris.

“The imps should be here soon with our meal,” Lamia said after a moment.

“Excellent.”

“The last time we did this you only drank juice. Do you drink wine now?”

“Yes. Though I prefer ale or mead.”

“So grown up,” Lamia said. “What was your favorite food in Aurelia?”

“I ate all manner of dishes, but the pies they prepared at Queen Thema’s were my favorite. I also spent time with a Harpy who was an excellent cook. Everything from her kitchen was delicious.”

“A Harpy? Was she your lover?”

Sam blinked at the boldness of her question. And the absurdity. “No, Brunie was… ” He stopped himself from saying mother figure, for fear of upsetting Lamia, “Much older than me and mated to a Goblyn.”

“A Goblyn and a Harpy? How unusual.”

“Yes, but they are well matched,” Sam said. “I imagine your marriage to Father was also unusual. A demon king with an Aurelian queen must have been unprecedented.”

A trio of imps appeared above them. They swooped down to place trays of food before them.

Lamia poured them both a glass of wine. “We kept our relationship hidden, so no one ever questioned us. I was the one most surprised by our pairing.”

Sam took a sip of wine. It tasted of smoke and spice, much headier than the wines of Aurelia. “When did you become a demon?”

“Not long after Asmodeus brought me to this realm. The mystics locked me in the Turret of Whispers for thirteen days. There, I could ruminate on the virtues and vices of demonhood in complete darkness and silence. I took no water or sustenance for those days, until my flesh became weak and my mind grew addled. It was a difficult process, especially since you were in my womb and I feared the ritual would cause you harm. But on the thirteenth day, my Goblyn body expired. Yet, I rose up, reborn. From Lilith to Lamia—mate to Asmodeus and Queen of the Night and the Underworld. Asmodeus claimed me as his mate and we held a coronation ceremony the next night.”

“Did you feel different?”

“Oh yes. More powerful and stronger. It was a glorious change. I felt more capable of ruling my new realm.”

“Do you ever miss Aurelia?”

For the briefest of moments, he saw sadness color his mother’s face. “Sometimes. I grieve that the Goblyns and vampires do not have a queen of their own. But Thema tells me they are faring well.”

They ate in silence for a few moments. Learning more about his family lore filled an ache inside Sam that he had endured for too long.

Eventually, Lamia asked, “How did you meet your human?”

Sam explained how had Selene come to Aurelia through a trap set by Queen Thema, and her plans to use Selene as bait to steal the traveler’s stone from Zaybris.

Lamia listened without interruption, her features neutral at first. But when he shared how he started the claiming ritual in the cave, her expression shifted.

She began to look suspicious. Skeptical.

Once Sam finished his story with how Selene had returned to him in Aurelia, Lamia didn’t speak for a moment. Then she bluntly asked, “Was Selene the first to share your bed?”

Sam’s face heated. “Yes.”

“Ah, I see.” Lamia flipped her long braid over her shoulder. “I think you should try bedding a few other demonesses while you are here. Vanthee is quite taken with you.”

Sam drew back, horrified. “Absolutely not.”

“How can you know Selene is your fated mate if she’s the only one you’ve ever known?”

“Because I just know. ”

“How?”

“I felt the bond come into place.”

Lamia gave him a pitying look. “I fear you may have confused feelings of lust for the mate bond. Demons can’t be fated to mate with humans.”

“No. I have had… feelings of lust before meeting Selene, but what we have is different.” He shifted his sitting position on the floor.

Sharing such personal details made him feel deeply uneasy.

“Even before we claimed each other, Selene was able to wield control of the shadows. You saw what she did with the hydra. Doesn’t that prove she’s my mate? ”

“It was probably you controlling them instinctively.” Lamia paused to chew an olive, then gestured at him with her fork. “Wouldn’t you like someone to match your strength and power? An equal?”

“Selene is an equal to me.”

“My darling son, she’s not. Even if I had stayed a Goblyn, I would have still been a worthy mate to Asmodeus. We are both royalty and possess magick. But a human and a demon? She brings nothing of benefit to our family. Or your kingdom.”

His spine stiffened. “I disagree. She has the ability to calm and soothe me. It is a gift I cherish deeply.”

“Dear one, you’re being silly. Even if you want to keep Selene as a lover, you would still be free to take another wife. Or several wives. Ones more advantageous to your status.”

Sam stared down at the fresh greens on his plate, their taste turning sour in his mouth. A familiar sensation rose up in him—one he had thought he left behind in Aurelia.

It was the feeling of being not quite enough. Of being an outcast. Of disappointing everyone around him by not being who or what they wanted him to be.

He had known his parents would find his relationship with Selene unconventional, but he believed that would be overlooked since the will of fate had brought them together. Their pairing was preordained in his mind and not up for debate.

How had their pleasant evening turned so tense? He forced back the angry feelings that were beginning to form by taking three long, slow breaths. “Mother, I ask that you respect my choices. When the season ends, Selene and I are leaving. I don’t wish to discuss it further.”

Lamia’s wings snapped. “A few months is hardly long enough to make up for the time our kingdom has been without their prince. This is where you belong. This is where you were meant to rule. ”

Sam shook his head. “I’m not the Dark Sovereign.”

“Ha! You believe fate matched you with Selene, yet you reject the idea that fate wants you to be the Dark Sovereign?”

“The Dark Sovereign should be one who wants to lead. One who craves power and seeks to make the Underworld stronger. I wouldn’t be suitable for it. The idea of having subjects or advisors or courtiers repels me. I want to answer only to myself.”

Lamia’s mouth thinned, obviously displeased with his answer.

Sam continued, “It pains me to disappoint you, and I hate that Father is losing his powers. But… ”

He hesitated, then straightened his posture. “I have an idea. Actually, it was Selene’s. Let me serve my royal duty by helping you find the Dark Sovereign.”

Lamia took a sip of wine. “And how would you do that?”

“What if we hosted a tournament or series of trials to find the Dark Sovereign? Then the demon most suited to rule may prove himself worthy.”

Lamia’s eyes narrowed. “What sort of trials do you propose?”

“I’m not sure yet, but we can design them,” Sam replied. “What skills or traits do you think are most crucial for ruling?”

Lamia’s response was swift and decisive. “Unholy strength, the endurance to withstand suffering, mastery of negotiation, and, of course, a talent for deceit. ”

“Then we’ll create tests to determine which demon excels in those areas.”

Lamia looked thoughtful for a moment. “Hmm. We could start with a wide pool of contenders then narrow them as they move through each challenge.”

“Yes, that would work. Anyone still standing by the end would be eligible for Father to crown them Dark Sovereign.”

“Mmm,” Lamia replied evasively. She wiped the corners of her mouth with a napkin. “But we mustn’t let any of our subjects know your father’s weakened state.”

“I agree.” Sam swirled his wine in the glass. “Perhaps we could frame the trials as an amusement or a competition to become the king’s favored champion.”

“Intriguing,” Lamia murmured, her gaze sharpening. Then she tilted her head, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. “Very well. I’ll agree to these trials. On one condition.”

“Yes?” Sam asked warily.

Lamia’s eyes glittered with triumph. “ You must compete in them as well.”

Sam let out a heavy sigh.

Endless clashes with his parents, or a set of games he could shape… and deliberately lose? The choice was clear.

He looked her in the eye and said, “If that’s what it takes, I agree.”