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“You… are very brave, Raven,” she said softly as she hugged me. I hugged her back.
“Not as brave as you,” I told her, and she laughed.
“Well, let’s go then. If you’re going to kill Ash Nevra, we need to make sure that you’re ready.” She was right. My birthday was only a few days away. We were running out of time. If I was going to stand a chance against the Titan Frira during the Quickening, I needed to get back to work.
The next three days passed, and I did not see Amon once. By the end of the fourth day, I wondered if he was ever going to speak to me again. Maybe I shouldn’t have made that comment about him not being a king.
After a particularly rewarding day of training, I took a hot shower. I remembered walking through the jungle on our way to Olkuyrbe. Amon had been upset with me about some stupid comment I had made then, too. Rycon had told me that his feelings had been hurt, and if I apologized, he would likely be willing to kiss and make up. My face flushed as I got out of the shower. Maybe I should apologize to him or try to at least.
I padded into the bedroom and slipped on a matching black lace panty and bra set. Suddenly I had an idea, and heat rose to my face again. I fingered one of the silk slips in the top drawer of my armoire. He seemed to like it when I wore these.
I pulled one out and slipped it on. With my hair still damp, I poked my head out of my bedroom and peered down the hall to where his room was. I had never gone to his room before. Curiosity flooded through me, and my heart rate sped up.
I was actually going to do this. Taking a deep breath, I willed my face to cool, before stepping out into the hall. I made my way the few feet to his closed door and paused.
He was inside, I could tell by the way my aura arched and pressed against the metaphysical barriers I kept it contained in. It tried to get to Amon, through the thick wooden door. His aura froze on the other side, and I realized he knew I was there. No going back now.
Softly, I knocked on the wood, and waited. There was a long beat of silence, before the door opened on it’s own, revealing the room beyond. It was very similar in size and design to mine.
His bed was as large as mine, though his was a four poster, made from wood as black as obsidian. He also had a large desk, where my settee was. It was covered in prophecies. He must have been looking for more information on the Omnikey, to find another solution.
In the center of the room, instead of the table and chairs I had, he had two large luxurious armchairs with a small end table between them. They were facing the opening in the wall that led out to the balcony, so you could enjoy the view while you sat.
Amon was sitting in one now, drinking from a crystal glass with a dark amber liquid in it. He glanced over at me as I entered, eyeing me warily.
“Good evening, Raven,” his voice was like ice. I came further into the room and moved to stand before him. Though I gave him several feet of space. His mood felt dangerous.
“We need to talk,” I said. He watched me for a moment, before nodding his head once.
“Yes. We do.”
50
We stared at each other in silence for a long moment. The tension continued to build. Finally, I realized, that he was not going to speak first. I gathered up my nerve and went for it.
“I’m sorry, that I made that comment, about you not being a king,” I blurted, and he arched a perfect brow. Putting his glass down on the table next to him, he leaned back, crossing his ankle over his knee. Fuck, he was attractive. The silver moon reflected off his black shirt and slacks, his nearly white hair burning in the darkness.
“That is not why I am upset, Raven.” He said quietly. “I am upset, because you seem to think this is a game. Or an adventure of some kind. You seem to think that we can just pop over to the Court of Lust for a visit, collect the Omnikey, and all will be well.”
“I don’t think this is a game.” I said, frowning. “I am not a child.” His gaze raked over my body and I shivered.
“No. You are not,” he agreed. “But you do not understand what it is you are suggesting. What bringing you to her Court as a prisoner would mean.”
“I have a pretty good idea,” I snapped back. His expression darkened, and suddenly, he was in front of me.
“Do you?” He asked, and he began to circle me. My heart rate sped up and I felt my breath quicken. His entire demeanor changed. This was not the Amon I had come to know and care for.
This was Amon, the Dark Prince of the Court of Pride. This was the daemon prince that people told horrible stories about. The daemon who tortured, and killed innocent people, with a cold smile on his deadly, alabaster face.
“Shall I give you a small taste?” He whispered from behind, against my neck. Even his breath was cold. “Let’s see if you have what it takes, to pretend that you are truly broken.”
“Amon, I-”
“It is Prince Amon,” he snarled, circling around to face me now. He grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him. The gentle way he normally touched his hand to my chin was a ghost of what this felt like. This was authoritative, dominant.
“Ash Nevra might even demand that you call me master.” His face was inches from mine, and I quivered.
He let go of my chin and prowled back to his chair. He lounged in his seat, legs spread wide in front of him.
