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“That’s our morning routine,” Finnian says, his voice still thick with sleep. “Wake up, coffee, stab someone, brush teeth,” I add.
Finnian’s groan vibrates the back of my head. “We don’t have coffee.”
“Maybe we could just die; at least then we’d be able to sleep,” I grumble.
Who needs caffeine when someone is so graciously trying to kill you moments after waking up?
“Shoot straight,” I say to Finnian. “Throw true,” he replies, finishing off our signature pre-battle exchange.
Aestilian is located on godly land, but I’m not above killing a god should they ever rejoin humanity and I do not fear their curses.
A cocky smile stretches across the man’s cracked lips—so many have worn the same smile before taking their last breaths in my presence. The only thing I love about being underestimated is always proving people wrong.
“Killing you is the only pleasure I’ll take from you.”
“My blade is my god, and you can tell them I said that.”
Cayden Veles sits on top of his horse looking every inch the feared Commander of Vareveth the world knows him to be.
“I didn’t know demons could experience emotions, but you look quite unsettled.”
“I don’t care enough to be unsettled.”
“Jealous it is...
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“Elowen, may I present my First General, R...
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“You never apologized for punching me,” Cayden remarks with a smirk. “In multiple places, on multiple occasions.”
“That’s because you deserved them.” I smile sweetly.
“I won’t deny that the thought of you appearing in Aestilian to beg isn’t unwelcome.”
“My sweet affliction, I regret to inform you I don’t beg.”
“Believe me, Elowen,” he begins, drawing my attention away from the crowd, “my intentions are never honorable.”
“Can you do me a favor?” he asks.
“What?” I ask, feeling uneasy.
“Don’t lock me in a cell in ...
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“Why do I have a feeling you’re going to be the bane of my existence?”
“Good night, angel,” he says before bounding down the steps.
“Good night, demon,” I whisper into the darkness after he’s long gone.
At one point, I chased him with a knife before Finnian threw me over his shoulder and carried me away. I don’t remember what prompted the knife chase, but it was fun. Cathartic.
“She is strong,” Finnian growls. “She can be strong and have anxiety. She’s not made of stone.”
“I don’t want to be scared of living.”
As inviting as this welcome is, I know sometimes the most beautiful things can be the most dangerous.
Everyone knows how you handle a snake should it threaten you: You cut off the head.
“I’d argue my view is better.”
“I’d love to get a closer look to reinforce my theory, though.”
“The closer you get, the more inviting the jump looks.”
“Not my original plan, but if you feel the need to scream my name during the night, you may do so.”
“I’m not much of a screamer, and I doubt you’ll turn me into one.”
“We’ll see about that, angel.”
“Muse of my nightmares, you have returned.” I sigh while straightening my dagger. “Are you here to escort me?” Nothing but silence greets me. I spin on my heels to find his darkened gaze roaming over me and his jaw is clenched so tight it must be painful. His cheekbones are so sharp I could hone a blade on them. A black leather tunic hugs his broad frame, and the gold buckles along the front match the rings adorning his long fingers. A sword hangs around his waist, and he looks…No.
“Don’t you have a job to do? You’re not a guard.”
“I added you to my job description.” He smirks while walking toward my door. “It now reads ‘Cayden Veles—Commander of Vareveth and Defender of the Bane of His Existence.’ ”
“It’s truly an honor.” I grin. “I hardly recognize you when you look civilized.”
“I can take my clothes off if it’s too confusing for you.”
“I’m not bowing,” I state.
“Good. I never do,” he says,
“Have you ever bowed to anyone?”
“No.”
“Commander Cayden Veles of Vareveth and Her Majesty Elowen Atarah, Queen of Aestilian and Princess of Imirath.”
“Any home is a castle with a queen inside.” I shrug, seeming unbothered.
chair.When wielded properly, words have the power to cut someone down with more pain and precision than any sword.
“I would kiss your chef if I saw them.”
“You have a soft spot for chefs? Shall I don an apron over my armor?” Cayden asks.
