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I had no idea.
Reyes guided me down a hall I felt I’d gone down a hundred times before, but no way could that be possible. I wouldn’t have guessed there was an exit here until today.
Dylan and Wesley trailed a decent distance behind us; those two were always my shadow.
At the end of the hall was a pair of iron-rimmed glass doors. Two guards were stationed on either side of them.
“Is your security always this intense?”
“There have been a few changes recently that have warranted it—you amongst them.”
I considered his words, wondering what exactly had changed since my arrival.
“How were things before I got here?” I gambled and asked.
“Boring,” he replied easily.
That was a universal response if ever I’d heard one.
At the end of the hall, the iron doors were pulled open and warm air spilled inside.
The first thing I noticed was that the sun had yet to return, but the orange haze remained.
We were behind the citadel on a smooth lane of asphalt that ran straight before splitting off in two separate directions.
Neatly trimmed hedges lined each section. A few ravens sat perched on the branches of coal black trees.
I looked around and began to get a good idea of how expansive the property was. It may have been even bigger than my father’s.
For all its darkness and underlying savagery, it was undeniably beautiful. The air was warmer, but it flowed no differently in and out of my lungs. There was no sunlight, but the orange glow bathed everything in a nearly luminescent light.
“I can’t believe you created this place,” I murmured.
“Well, Purgatory was always here. It was just an unclaimed wasteland that I made our home.”
“Our?”
“My family, my subjects.” He placed a palm on the small of my back and guided me towards a rounded gazebo sitting by itself.
“Family…as in, your brothers?”
He led me up the gazebo stairs, cognizant of my heels, and we sat down beside one another on the bench.
“Them, too. All of the depires, actually. We’re a brotherhood. Once upon a time, my son was a part of it.”
“Your son?” I was glad I was sitting down; that bomb would have knocked me on my ass.
“He’s dead,” he added so casually you’d think he was telling me about the weather.
“I…I don’t know what to say. How did he die?”
“He should never have been born. There’s a reason I sought a solution for my kind to reproduce. Demis are the only ones capable of healthily carrying our young.”
Okay…I furrowed my brows and processed all of this new information. Reyes was intelligent—extremely, if he had anything to do with the serum I was injected with.
There were suddenly so many things I wanted to ask, but I didn’t know where to start, and I didn’t want to offend or anger him.
I’d hate to lose this precious leeway I’d gained. He was always so reserved and secretive, a walking question mark for the most part.
I went with a more obvious question and one I felt I should know.
“How old was he?”
“Old enough.”
I sighed and leaned backward, soaking everything in. Letting my head drop to the railing, my eyes drifted closed.
“You are…content?”
He sounded so perplexed, I almost laughed.
“Yes,” I replied with a smile.
“You can come out here whenever you want. It’s not as if you can truly go anywhere.”
“That sentence would have been so much better without that last part.”
My lids fluttered open, and I sat up, readjusting myself on the bench.
A few supes and demis walked the other paths, smiling and chatting quietly.
“This place isn’t bad. In fact, give it a little pop of color and it would be even prettier than it already is.”
“I can arrange that, if you tell me what you’d like.”
“Or I could arrange it.” I shrugged.
Feeling his stare boring into the side of my head, I turned and looked at him.
“What?”
“You are a very unorthodox queen,” he stated, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.
“I don’t agree with your preconceived notions of what a queen should or should not be. In what way am I unorthodox? Is it because I’m not soft and gentle? Perhaps my voice and opinions are too outspoken?”
He grinned and brought his hand to my face, gently stroking my cheek with his thumb.
“I said you were unorthodox, not that I had an issue with it. You’re perfection to me, in any stance—even when you’re pissing me off.”
His eyes reflected an honesty that had my heart migrating to my throat and a comforting warmth spreading through my veins.
It was too intense. Too much. Not at all how a game of politics worked.
“Where is the woman who had your son?”
There wasn’t so much as a bat of an eyelid.
“There are no more female depires, and even if there were, she’d still be dead.”
“Is that an omission?” I nearly whispered.
