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For the first time, the wild grin falls from his face, and I notice something like concern cross his features. “Consorts are sacred. No one must ever hurt a consort. Ever.”
He leans in, and I blink, foolish and overwhelmed to not notice how handsome he is. The hood was shading his face before, but yeah. He has strong, handsome features and he’s just really, really um. . . gulp. . . male. He gazes down at me, his intense, stormy gray eyes locking me in place. “I will never hurt you.”
Shouting erupts from the other end of the plaza, and his head swings in that direction. Mine does, too, and I see police start to flood the plaza.
“Our courtship comes to an end, beautiful consort,” he says.
“What does that me—?”
There’s no time to finish my question because before I’ve even taken another breath, he bends his knees slightly and then rockets us up into the air.
I scream. And scream and scream and clench my arms around his neck so tight I have to be choking him. His arms just tighten against my ample curves as we rise faster than any man-made jet-pack could ever accomplish, his huge wings coming to life and cutting through the air around us.
Oh my god, is this real? Is this actually happening?
My heart isn’t just in my throat. It’s bypassed that. It’s in my mouth from how fast we’re suddenly accelerating. A low, thrumming blue light erupts around us and breaks a bit of the freezing wind resistance. I clench my eyes shut as I press my face against his huge, warm chest.
Wasn’t something like this what I was just wishing for? Praying for, even? Adventure. A. . . gulp. . . man? I feel a crazy rush in my ears. The world isn’t safe. This man is very, very unsafe.
We’re flying higher now and faster.
Oh my god! Part of me believed by talking to him, I was just stalling until help arrived. Only a small percentage was actually contemplating running away with him. Or—flying away with him, as it were.
And now—
Oh god! The plaza is getting smaller and smaller below us.
And I’m being flown off to god knows where by. . . well, someone who believes he is a god. And just might be.
Chapter Three
REMUS
My plan is going well. Of course it is. I am Remus, destroyer of cities, a very clever god of war.
Naturally, my stupider, less talented brothers had a harder time acquiring consorts than I did. I always suspected it would be the case were I ever to try.
But there was always the obstacle of the ball and chain tied around my neck—or rather, to the back of my head—my Siamese twin, Romulus. No one can imagine what it’s like to have a face on the other side of one’s head, unseen without the aid of mirrors but always ready to wake when I am sleeping and second-guess any plan I try to make.
It’s never been fair to share a body with him. He’s always ready to whip around and snatch control just when things are getting interesting.
For example, when I began making plans to go take a consort from one of the humans’ cities months ago, Romulus knew what I was doing. He sleeps when I’m awake and vice versa, and we know what the other is up to because of our shared memory. He’s able to spy on me, which is how I found myself locked back up in the dungeon during my waking hours. The same dungeon he locked us in for two hundred years rather than let me free to play out all my schemes.
Only one of my other brothers cared for my plight.
Layden alone came to me in the dungeon and offered me a solution. The youngest of us, he took pity on me because he knew how capricious our other brothers could be. He was long absent from our sides and no longer the sweet little brother who would blindly go along with whatever Abaddon decreed. He had also learned much during his time away. Not just magic. He met dark beings, a secret I believe he shared with only me.
And he gave me an elixir so that I might keep my mind separate from Romulus’s.
Outwardly, both Layden and I played the obedient brothers and gained our freedom to move about the castle. I promised to give up my schemes of stealing a consort for my own. Layden pretended to be content to be among family again.
Together, we plotted.
After months and months of being good little boys, and along with Romulus’s assurance that he had me in check—ha, as if he ever could leash his better half—we got the rest of them to agree to go on vacation.
So I took my opportunity, and now I am holding the most beautiful, sumptuous of females in my arms, carrying her back to the castle to make her mine.
She has even stopped screaming. Well, almost. Every so often, a little squeal erupts, but mostly, she buries her face against my chest. She is so warm, pressed close to me. Had I known it would feel like this, I would have found a way to take a consort much, much sooner.
