Asterim is playing with her glass, eyes fixed on the rim as she answers me. “Darling, he killedhimself.”
The air comes out of me in a rush. I rest my head against the back of the booth, absorbing all this.
I distantly recall learning about the Kaldare line coming to a tragic end. They were replaced by some other set of kings and queens after, though they couldn’t have lasted long. Unification was Strata’s ultimate answer to being torn apart by the supernaturals. That in turn allowed enough humans to band together to demand the Concords be created. Strength in numbers was humanity’s only play—there have always been a lot more of us than there are of them.
Which brings me back to that coveted commodity—human souls. Syrus signed his over and has spent the better part of three centuries in a life he never asked for. At least now some of his behavior makes sense—it’s obvious he doesn’t like all the elements of Malice. I’d go so far as to say he doesn’t care for parts of being a demon at all.
Because he didn’t choose this. Well, he chose it like I chosemyresidency in Infernum—he was forced into an impossible decision with death as thealternative. For me, it was onlymydeath I was staring in the face, and Syrus had a whole kingdom of people to worry about.
I can’t decide what that means to me.Ifit means anything. So I focus on something simpler instead.
“That’s why you all speak the common tongue instead of Cyrax at the castle?” I ask. It’s something I’ve been curious about. “Because he misses being human?”
Asterim rubs her forehead. “My dear, I don’t know what goes on in that man’s mind. I might be his closest friend, but there’s a lot he doesn’t like to talk about. Personally, I think dwelling in the past is a fool’s philosophy.”
“I know,” I say. “You’re all about living in the here and now.”
She grins at me, offering up her glass. “I love that you get me, darling. Cheers to that.”
We clink drinks and down what’s left of them. The alcohol sinks into me, draping me in a lovely, soft fuzziness. The band’s drummers start up a new song, the beat pulsing through my veins, and Asterim grabs my hand.
“We’ve forgotten something. We came here to have fun,” she stands up, pulling me with her. “I want to see if Stratans these days know how to move.”
She drags me over to where the other demons are dancing. For a moment, I’m lost. It’s been a long time since I was anywhere like this, a place where the only goal is enjoyment—to celebrate and feel good, tolive.But as Asterim starts to sway, closing her eyes with the swelling strings, I follow her lead. I let the music take me over. I letgo.
The rocking of the other bodies guides us, bending and swaying to the rhythm. A month ago, I would’ve been terrified to even be in the same room as these people, but here, and now, it doesn’t matter that they’re red-eyed or have fangs and talons; we all move the same.
Asterim takes hold of me, and we whirl around the dance floor together, skipping and spinning and laughing as we trip over our own feet. For a few hours, it’s as if I’ve slipped into another life—one free of all my burdens and cares.
I dance until my feet burn. I drink until I feel like I’m floating. It’s only Asterim pulling a glass from my hand and leading me toward the exit that stops me from going until dawn.
“Can’t we stay a little longer?” I beg, tugging her back toward the door as she tries to wrestle me into the waiting carriage.
“Sweet darkness, that training’s working,” she says, digging her heels in and wriggling out from my grip. She quicksteps behind me and pushes me from behind. “Come on, Syrus will have my head if I don’t get you back before the ourani brighten.”
“No…Aster…” I gasp, turning and squeezing her face between my hands. “He can’t have it. Your head is too pretty.”
She laughs as she shoves me up to the carriage. “Don’t I know it, darling. So do me a favor and get in.”
I stumble on the step up, which is somehow hilarious, and I fall against the seat laughing. Aster whispers something in Cyrax to the kelaryn, and then we’re taking off, soaring over the mountains toward the castle. As the flames flare in the dark sky above us and the sweet-smelling wind rushes up to tug at my hair through the open window, I feel like I’m in a dream.
And for the first time since coming to Infernum, it’s not a nightmare.
When I get to my room, I collapse onto my bed. Triya’s nowhere to be seen—she seems to like to be elsewhere at night—and I’m glad, as it allows me to spread out across the mattress, letting the room spin around me for a bit.
I know I should get up and drink some water, but instead I close my eyes, dragging my fingertips in loose circles across my arms. My body feels sensitive,awake, despite the fogginess of my mind. It’s a little like when a certain someone moves beneath my skin, making my nerves tingle.
The thought takes me back to what Asterim told me about Syrus. I can see it now—the human king lurking behind those demon eyes. A man who would do anything to protect his kingdom. I can imagine how, if you were someone who mattered to him, he’d be a fearsome protector. Strong and unyielding. He certainly looked the part in the courtyard earlier today…
The way my body reacted to him annoyed me then, but here, alone in my room, it doesn’t feel so dangerous. I’m relaxed and sleepy and warm, and Idon’t see the harm in letting my hand sink lower, gently drawing up the hem of my dress and slipping beneath my underwear.
I picture that tall, sculpted body over me, pressing against me. I imagine commanding hands on my hips and firm, full lips against my throat, setting my breath hitching. I let my knees fall open as I stroke myself, gently building the heat coiling inside me into a roaring flame.
A telltale prickle runs up my neck as a presence slides into my mind.
I gasp, yanking my hand from between my legs and pulling my dress down as a different kind of heat—a flush of pure mortification—rushes through me.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”I bark into my head, at the same time frantically shutting away the rest of my mind.
