Throne in the Dark (Villains & Virtues, #1)

by A.K. Caggiano

“Bloodthorne’s Talisman of Enthrallment is complete.”

Of course she would find no friendliness here: the city had once been ruled by a demon, summoned to earth by those who were undoubtedly vile and nefarious. Though that demon had been thwarted by King Archibald over two decades ago, Aszath Koth remained a bastion for the dark and deceitful. Amma had been too young for memories when the demon had marched on Eiren’s capital, but just the thought of it made her shiver. Her home, luckily, had remained out of evil’s path, and when she had been to Eirengaard years later, she had been fortuitous to never see any fallout from the demon’s attack on their realm.

She hummed to herself as she turned for the route he had told her, “I guess he was kind after all.” Except, the man Amma had met was not kind, and after following his directions through Aszath Koth and ending up right back at the city’s entry gates, no Sanctum in sight, Amma very much wanted to tell him just how not-kind she thought he was.

Except someone else—and a familiar someone at that—was already picking it up.

“My father is Zagadoth the Tempestuous, Ninth Lord of the Infernal Darkness and Abyssal Tyrant of the Sanguine Throne. As his son, I, Damien Maleficus Bloodthorne, have inherited and honed the arcane abilities of bloodcraft and am, indeed, half demon.” “What?” He heaved a sigh. Unlike the talisman, his origin was rarely absorbed on the first go. “My father is Zagadoth the—” “No, I heard you, it’s just…” The woman’s shoulders relaxed, and she tipped her head to the side. “You don’t have any horns.”

Damien ground his jaw. Yes, she was correct about that—what else did she want from him? And where did she get off being so snarky and petulant, especially at a time like this?

shes a female in a romance book, of course shes snarky and petulant

“You are an incredible pain in the ass,” he grumbled, setting her down gently. Amma mumbled just as Damien turned to leave, something that sounded much too much like, “Wait until we’re married.”

Damien had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. “Surely, I don’t look like that.” “It’s close,” she warned, features relaxing. “You have resting villain face.”

I just need a moment, I know exactly what I want, so I’ll be fast.” Damien considered her, the way the tip of her tongue poked out from between her teeth and how her freckles bunched up as she grinned, and there was a moment, however brief and absolutely mad, he would have given her anything she asked for then. Well, that’s bloody dangerous, he thought,

“Oh, something about showing me how they manage to get all those massive cider barrels crammed into the really tight back room. I bet it’s fascinating.” Damien groaned, scratching at his smooth chin. “On second thought, your assistance may come in handy.” “Are you sure?” She bit her lip. “Because Branson seemed really interested in showing me how those barrels get filled.” He glared across the tavern at the man. “The only thing that barkeep is interested in filling, is you with Branson-son.” She gasped, too playful now to be convincing. “No! That can’t be what he meant. It’s got nothing to do with chickens.” “Chickens?” “He said if I went back there with him, he’d show me his massive co—” “Sanguinisui, go outside!”

Nothing, I was just thinking.” “About?” Damien turned a page. Thankfully, he hadn’t used that word that forced out the truth. Her eyes flicked to the road ahead and a line of trees there. “Poplar.” “Pop-what?” “Poplar trees.” She pointed at the row coming up on their right. “There are three different kinds, black ones, white ones, and greys like those.” When he continued to look at her as if waiting for more, she figured she should go on despite that no one, except Laurel on rare occasion, ever really wanted to hear more when she was talking about trees. “The grey ones are superior. They’re a hybrid of the other two kinds and have the best of them both, so they grow faster and taller than their parent plants.”

my husband will be so proud his favorite tree he loves to tell me about is in this book

The draekin with the egg strapped to her chest stepped up to them. “We, uh…we’re sorry we tried to eat you.” Damien shrugged. “Everyone must eat.” The littlest one started chomping on what he’d been handed immediately, and with a full snout croaked out, “You’re the nicest humans we ever met.”

“Good morning, The Honorable Ammalie Avington, daughter of His Lordship Bartholomew Avington and Her Ladyship Constance Avington, Baron and Baroness of Faebarrow.” Amma’s heart stopped beating, her lungs stopped inflating, blood stopped pumping. Every bit of her stopped working, in fact, brain included, and she simply sat there on the cot, stunned, seeing and hearing nothing until the stupidest words finally leaked out of her mouth. “That’s not me.”

“Oh, fine, yes, I am Ammalie Avington, the baroness of Faebarrow who’s gone missing. Are you happy?”

“Kaz, come here, quick.” There was a thump, and then the hurried clacking of nails on the floor as the dog paced up to his feet. Damien squatted down. “Listen to me very closely: make yourself into something small and follow that acolyte until he reaches Amma, and then I want you to follow her. Do you understand?” “Spy on the trollop. Yes.”

“Please tell me you fucked Damien.” “Laurel!” Amma shook her off and began storming away. The half-elf cackled wickedly, running after. “That’s not a no!” Kaz ran over the stony walkway they’d crossed to keep up. Amma slipped between the topiaries, and Laurel was right behind, Kaz keeping to her heels. “Believe me, Laurel, I thought about it. A lot.” At that, Damien almost accidentally knocked himself right out of Kaz’s consciousness. “But it’s a lot more complicated than that. I haven’t told you everything. Not to mention I’m, you know…” “Oh, as far as I’m concerned, that engagement is absolute rubbish!” Finally, thought Damien, someone in Faebarrow worthy of Amma’s friendship.