Page 5 of To Sway a Demon Heart

A screech interrupted whatever he was about to say. One of the servants had flung a tray of hors d’oeuvres in shock as the full-length mirror at the end of the hall rippled, and a tall male form stepped out. The Demon King of the Darklands emerged from the mirror, a smirk playing across his lips as he took in the terrified servant, who clutched the tray in front of himself like a shield.

Carnon held out a hand, and a female figure emerged from the mirror flanked by the form of a huge brown wolf. The Witch Queen stood by the Demon King’s side, both regal and a little terrifying in their black finery and matching crowns, and smiled warmly at me.

“Elara!” I cried, dropping Tyr’s arm and running over to hug my friend. A hoot announced Artemis’ arrival behind the King and Queen, and the mirror closed behind the last of the royal entourage.

Elara hugged me back as Tyr and Carnon shook hands, entering a conversation about fencing techniques that must be a continuation of some earlier debate. Artemis, Carnon’s bonded strix with the body of an owl and wings of a bat, flapped over and started pecking at the fallen hors d’oeuvres. Akela, the wolf who seemed to be bonded somehow to both monarchs, padded over in a most stately fashion to help the strix with the meal.

“Any progress?” Elara asked, shooting a glance to her mate and Tyr before looking at me hopefully. I knew she wasn’t asking about the hunt for a new Lord of Shadow, and I shook my head a little. Her face fell and she hugged me again. “Have you tried Cerridwen’s plan?”

I laughed, the sound somewhat muffled by Elara’s embrace. “No, and I already told you I won’t be,” I said, pulling back and trying to look stern. “I’m holding out for groveling, remember?”

“Well, I can’t fault you for that,” Elara said, giving her mate a bemused little smile. He raised a brow at her over Tyr’s shoulder as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. “Groveling can be extra fun.”

Chapter 4

TheSamhaincelebrationwasan odd mix of formal observance and revelry. Carnon opened with the Charge of the Horned God and the traditional blessings of Samhain, and then the musicians began to play an eerie overture while lords and ladies invited partners to dance.

I was content to sit with Elara and chat about the tournament details, but a polite cough at my shoulder told me I had company instead.

“Lady Brigid,” came a smooth voice from above me. I turned, a little surprised to see Lord Tenebris’ son, whose name I still couldn’t remember, standing above me with a hand out expectantly. “Would you do me the honor?”

“Oh,” I said, catching Elara’s eye. She raised her own brows and gave a little shrug.

“A dance, my love?” Carnon said, reappearing at the same moment to offer a hand to Elara.

“Your Majesty,” said Tenebris’ son, bowing low and respectfully to Carnon. “My Queen,” he added, giving the same bow to Elara. “My apologies. I did not see you there.”

“No apologies needed, Lord…?” Elara trailed off, creating an opening for me to make introductions.

The younger lord saved me from the embarrassment of having to ask his name. “Draven,” he said smoothly, offering my friends another bow. “My father is Lord Tenebris.”

Carnon’s face went stony at this introduction, but he shook the male’s hand regardless. I tried to catch Elara’s eye to ask for clarification, but she hadn’t noticed Carnon’s change in demeanor.

“My lady,” Draven said, turning back to me. “A dance?”

“Yes, of course,” I said, frowning at Carnon who was still giving Draven a hard look as he guided me away. I made a mental note to ask Elara about the exchange later. Perhaps Carnon had dealings with Draven’s father in the past.

Lord Draven was a perfect gentleman as he led me to the dance floor, taking one of my hands in his and putting the other around my waist. I flinched a little at the touch, the Pull rebelling at a male other than my mate being this close to me when our bond was still unfulfilled, but if Draven noticed he was too polite to mention it.

“You look lovely, Lady Brigid,” he said quietly, his voice a deep rumble as he began to move us around the floor. “Blessed Samhain to you.”

“And to you,” I responded as was customary. “Are you enjoying the celebration?”

“I am,” he said, smiling warmly at me. It was so strange to be the object of a warm, open smile for a change that I couldn’t help but return it. “It is a final pleasure before we face our fates in the tournament. I presume we will begin tomorrow?”

“Yes,” I said, a little surprised at these words. “Are you planning to enter then, my lord?”

“Draven is fine, Lady Brigid,” he corrected warmly. “And yes. My father is determined that I will take the seat, as he is too old himself to compete.”

“I see,” I said, frowning a little. “And do you want to be Lord of Shadow?”

“Who would not?” he said, a broad smile curving his full lips. Based on the muscle I felt beneath my hands, he would be a competitive opponent. “The chance to lead Shadow, to improve the Court and guide its people, would be a true honor.”

I smiled, feeling perhaps Draven, unlike his father, shared a bit of our vision for the future. “Change is not as easy as all that,” I pointed out, gasping a little as the male spun me more quickly than I had expected.

He chuckled apologetically. “True,” he agreed, squeezing my waist a little tighter to steady me. “You would be in a position to know after suffering through the council for weeks, my lady.”

“Brigid,” I corrected, trying to decide if the smile I gave him was genuine or part of the act I had adopted in Shadow. It was honestly difficult to tell. “If you insist on abandoning the formalities.”