Chapter Eleven - Back to the Start (Part 2)

Akila went blank as astonishment swept through her.

She stared up into the cold, merciless beauty of the demon who threatened to kill her by fucking her to death. Now why did that thought excite her instead? Wetness pooled between her thighs, and she squirmed uncomfortably. How mortifying!

Zagan's nostrils flared but, he mistook her silence for fear and acquiescence. He expected her to put up more of a fight. Disappointment gripped him. "That's what I thought."

Aware that now wasn't the right time to push him, she decided to shift the conversation. "Fine. If you don't wish to discuss your hunger, then we'll talk about something else." She fixed him a hard stare. "What do you intend for me to do this evening? I don't believe you had me lavishly dressed only to show me off."

Zagan watched her through slitted eyes. "That is the objective, but you'll act as my intermediary between the royal families. You will make the necessary introductions and the rest I can manage on my own."

A quick frown chased her features. "I still don't understand. Why must you host a ball?"

"The less you know, the higher the chances of you staying alive," he warned distinctly.

She didn't believe him. Zagan was danger and power personified. Anyone who became involved with him would suffer the consequences — deliberate or accidental. "Rather presumptuous of you, don't you think?" Her response clipped and her chin tilted in defiance. "After you killed my father, I never expected to live or that you would spare my life."

He took a threatening step forward, trapping her jaw in a firm yet gentle grip. "Is that why you're still here?"

She glared at him, finding bravery in her indignancy. "Not everything in life revolves around revenge. Haven't you heard of self-preservation?"

He ignored her petty sarcasm, releasing her. "Then allow me to enlighten you, my pet. Tonight's agenda will help me distinguish friends from foes." He made sure to catch her gaze. "Another reason is to lure your fiancé and brother out of hiding."

Her eyes widened in an instant, betraying her emotions.

Zagan's smile was cruel. "I know you lied to me. You see, I never killed your brother and there were no reports of the crown prince's corpse. It was my mistake not to have recognized him that day." He circled her — a prowling predator. "My sources informed me that the Duke of Ryre was wounded, so it couldn't have been him. There are only three men in your life you care for." Lifting three fingers, he ticked off each one. "Your father, the duke and your brother — the crown prince of Cronoa — who is a current threat to me."

Tensing, she demanded, "What are your plans for him?" Her upper lip curled ever so slightly. "My brother is wise and cunning. He'll not let himself be captured so easily."

"Your words are predictable," he scoffed. "Only the victor shall have the last laugh and one has yet to emerge, so let us not be too hasty. You asked and I'm offering the truth. Nothing changes even if you dislike it." His thumb traced her soft lips, his voice suddenly hypnotic. "I told you before that you're mine and until I say otherwise — no one — will take you from me."

Akila caught the flash of his beast beneath molten eyes, his possessiveness sending shivers down her spine. She watched as he straightened to his impeccable height before tidying his hair and clothes as if he hadn't nearly consumed her with his lust and hunger...as if he hadn't just threatened her brother's life and her own. His nonchalance infuriated her, and her hands balled into tight fists. Reluctant to let this matter slide, she marched up to him. "That's right, you have me, so why can't you leave my brother alone?"

He made a discourteous noise. "Surely you don't think I'm foolish enough to let my enemies roam about with the opportunity to stab me in the back. I know you're not naïve, Akila, please don't make me discredit you." The exacting, regal expression he wore would have made her feel small if she didn't know he was being himself — an arrogant demon.

"It's worth a shot," she muttered irritably. "I wager you don't even know what it feels like to fear for your own life."

"On the contrary, I have experienced fear and that's why I promised myself it would never happen again," he countered smoothly. He must have seen the curiosity in her eyes but decided this was all she was going to get. Extending his arm like a perfect gentleman, he urged, "Come little lamb, it's time for us to greet our guests."

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Her lips were stuck in a perpetual smile while she played the dutiful hostess, introducing Zagan to all the royal members present. Throughout the evening, she conveniently ignored him and held her tongue unless spoken to. After his high-handed behaviour upstairs, she wasn't in a forgiving mood and hoped her cold shoulder rankled him.

A flurry of whispers and activity from across the ballroom directed her attention to the Ephalonian royals who had just arrived. She felt Zagan's broad hand tightened against her back as he led them towards the auspicious pair.

How suspicious.

Was Zagan acquainted with King Zen? She couldn't for certain acknowledge the Ephalonian King's character, having heard the stories about his disreputable...tendencies.

King Zen greeted Zagan with zealous laughter and a hearty handshake, depicting the portrait of a friendly reunion. Akila knew better than to be deceived. Standing beside him was his only daughter, Princess Amora. The young woman looked exquisite, garbed in spangled silver and dripping in precious diamonds. Where Akila was dark, the princess was fair from the roots of her ice blonde hair to her ethereal skin. She screamed of innocence and purity — virtues lost to Akila.

A slight bitterness assailed her.

"Your Majesty, I'd like to introduce you to my one and only Amora, Princess of Ephalon," Zen crowed, his chest puffed out with pride. "My daughter insisted to personally extend her congratulations, thus here we are."

Zagan's mindful gaze flickered to the princess who was indeed beautiful, in a meek and glossy way that would have attracted him if he wasn't so fixated on a raven-haired minx who enjoyed defying his every command. Bending over the princess's hand, he placed a kiss upon her soft knuckles. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Princess Amora."

"Likewise, Your Majesty," the princess responded, her breathless voice like hummingbird wings. "You're as handsome as the rumors say," Amora regaled shamelessly, her lashes fluttering. "I hope you'll save a dance for me, Your Majesty. I am eager to tell you all about Ephalon. Anything that will help our alliance — I am at your service."

Akila felt an unexplainable twinge of annoyance at Amora's honeyed sweetness. No doubt the princess hoped to be of service in Zagan's bed, she thought cattily.

"And who is this lovely creature beside you?" Amora's question had her eyes narrowing with suspicion. What game was she playing? They knew each other since childhood, Amora being the constant thorn in her side.

Intent upon her nemesis, she startled when Zagan slipped his arm around her waist, pulling her close. "May I present to you my royal concubine, Akila."

Amora gasped, the sound overly dramatic. "Oh my, Akila! Forgive me for not recognizing you. The last time we met, we were still reciting nursery rhymes. You look absolutely nothing like your old self."

The double meaning wasn't lost on her. Forcing a wide smile, Akila curtsied as far as her dress would allow. "It's a pleasure to see you again, Princess Amora."

"Please accept my condolences on behalf your family," Amora continued without finesse. "I hope you're faring well because all's fair in love and war, darling."

Rage scalded her insides, and her skin grew hot. Calm down, she told herself, digging her fingernails into her palms. Don't make a scene. This was how it had always been between Amora and herself, the princess goading her into losing her temper.

"How hard it must have been for you." Amora lightly patted her shoulder before completely dismissing her. "Come, Your Majesty, may I be so bold as to request for you to escort me into the ballroom? There are some people I would like you to meet."

Zagan's curved mouth was devoid of emotion. "But of course, princess." He offered his arm, noticing the triumphant gleam in the woman's eyes. From the very beginning, he sensed her contempt and jealousy like a wolf salivating over fresh kill. He didn't appreciate her derisive attitude towards Akila. If anyone was going to criticize his woman, it would be his right alone.

His next words darkened with caution. "I don't expect humans to understand the demon social hierarchy but, as my concubine, Akila possesses the highest disposition in this kingdom — second only to me in the absence of my Empress. She alone possesses the right to bear my heir. Any offense towards her, is a personal offense towards me.

Akila blinked in wary disbelief, while the two royals turned a shade of pale.

Hearing him put Amora in her place so brutally and efficiently, unlocked her from her prison of indignation. She never imagined he would come to her defense, gripped by the urge to kiss him for it, even if he was the cause for Amora's insolence.

Perceptive silver eyes locked with hers. "No one else but she would have caught my attention."

Akila struggled to breathe at the wealth of meaning behind those words. They could mean anything but, she wanted to know — was she truly important to him? Did he experience the same malady — the constant need to see him, to be with him?

As usual she never had the chance to ask.

Over the top of Amora's fair head, he gave her a warning glance to behave before escorting the duly chastised princess into their sea of guests. King Zen trailed behind the pair.

She released a soft gasp of relief, feeling the burden on her shoulders lessened in their absence. Promptly summoning a passing servant for a glass of wine, she drained the entire flute and picked up another. After her fourth glass, a friendly voice interrupted her solitude. "You might want to slow down, or you will regret it in the morning."

She glanced over the rim to find a sandy haired stranger grinning at her affectionately. Clearing her throat to hide her embarrassment, she regarded him with faux haughtiness. "Do I know you, sir?"

"No, you don't but, I know you."

His gaiety confidence perplexed her. This stranger seemed to believe every word out of his own mouth. "Your name, sir?" she prompted, noticing that his eyes were mismatched ─ one green and the other one brown. How peculiar...and fascinating.

He noticed her observation and gestured to his eyes. "Strange, aren't they? It's a condition that runs in my family, and only inherited by the first-born son." He extended a hand, his smile never wavering. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Castelis from Bocelus. It's my pleasure to finally meet you, princess."

Her jaw fell open while her mind tripped over her words. Finally, she exclaimed, "You're the famous dryad! Tales of your healing powers have spread far and wide, and they say you can even perform miracles and save lives. You honor me with your presence, sir."

The dryad shifted his self-conscious gaze from left to right, lowering his voice. "If I admit to my identity, will you promise not to tell another soul?"

She nodded eagerly like a loyal puppy. "You have my word."

"Then yes," he said smugly. "I'm one of the few dryads left in existence. It's also my duty to uphold our bloodlines from going extinct."

"Wait a minute." Her hand shot up, her mind racing. "That means you're nobility and you're not just Sir Castelis, you're THE Lord Castelis!"

He smiled warmly. "I see you have heard of me."

Her answering smile was sheepish. "Dryads have always fascinated me in the schoolroom and I pay special attention to history lessons connected to Bocelus. As a smaller nation, I understand that the royal family members of Bocelus are addressed as my lord, and my lady."

"Now that the cat's out of the bag, I hope you won't treat me any differently."

"If you know who I am, you must know that I am no longer a princess." Her tone dismal.

He shook his head. "It matters not to me. Dryads don't take things at face value because we're a race that inspired the birth of fairy tales. And behind every belief, lies a grain of truth."

Her face bled with confusion. "Are you telling me you're my fairy godfather?"

Castelis burst into unmitigated laughter, attracting some unwanted attention. From across the ballroom, Zagan frowned at them. "I knew I would like you even before we met. You sound exactly like her."

She wondered at his cryptic statement, her ears turning a little red. "What do you mean?"

"Well, well, what do we have here?" Mara appeared out of thin air; her wicked drawl fired with amusement. "Sinking your claws into a new prey more up your alley, little human?"

"If you're looking for Zagan, he's with the princess of Ephalon," Akila sniffed, turning her nose up. "If I were you, I would be paying more attention to them."

Mara's smile faltered and her eyes immediately sought out her master. Standing beside him was a beautiful blonde with hands wrapped around him. "That human bitch!" She stormed off in a flurry of skirts.

"Are you acquainted with that demoness?" Castelis watched Mara thrusting aside dancing couples to reach the emperor. He gave a faint shudder. "Centuries have passed and her kind still leaves little to be desired — a greedy and violent race."

"Don't mind her. Mara's only being herself." Akila crossed her arms, attempting to assuage her curiosity. "Now, answer me — are you a friend or foe?"

"To you, I will never be a threat." He made a contemplative sound. "But Cronoa is a different story. I have yet to meet the Demon King and judge him for myself. Who he is will define what I am to this kingdom."

Her brows snatched together. "Have you not heard the rumors?"

His smile widened, as if he was secretly laughing at her naivete. "Rumors can never be trusted unless they come from the direct source. You're curious, and I don't blame you. I would feel the same way if our positions were reversed." He reached out with a hand, palm facing up to invite hers. "If you honor me with a dance, I might incline to tell you more about myself." Mischief danced behind his mismatched eyes. "What do you say, princess?"

She couldn't deny his proclamation. Curiosity was sewn into the fabric of her existence, and she couldn't shake the feeling that he knew her beyond her royal status. He knew her family. Was he an acquaintance of her parents? There was only one way to find out. Slipping her hand into his, she boldly declared, "Yes, I would be honored to dance with you."