Page 85 of Fated to the Demon Lord

A knock came at the door. Vaelor’s gaze shot to it, immediately becoming wary. “Who is it?”

“Sorry to disturb you, my lord, but your brother has arrived.”

Vaelor’s grip on my wrists tightened, his expression setting me on high alert.

“I will meet him downstairs,” Vaelor responded to the servant through the door.

“Your brother says not to worry. He will come up.”

“No. I said I will meet him.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but he is on his way.”

“Shit,” he said under his breath. He stepped forward and faded into me.

I can’t risk them overhearing us. You must listen to me. My brother is ruthless. He would not understand… what is between us.

What is between us? I wanted him to say it out loud, or at least in my head.

I felt his frustration. Not now, Denara, he growled. You must stand in the corner and look unobtrusive. Like my servant. Whatever happens, do not speak. Keep your hood up. Tell me you agree. There is no time to argue.

It was clear our conversation would have to wait until later. I agree.

Vaelor came out of me and materialized in existence in front of me. I threw my bag under the bed, moved into the corner, and stared at the floor. He grunted in satisfaction and turned toward the door as it burst open.

A tall abaddon male with deep red hair stalked into the room.

Twenty-Two

He looked like Vaelor, the same height and with powerful muscles. His hair, though the same shade, was shaved on one side, and a warrior’s braid hung down to his shoulders. The horns on his head curved back at a sharper angle than Vaelor’s, and his pupils were a pale light—as I had seen in the painting at Vaelor’s manor. The heat of his living body seemed to fill the room in contrast to Vaelor’s cold translucent form.

Lanzin’s eyes swung to me, and I dropped my gaze to the ground. “Hello, brother. Nice to see you—I would say alive and well—but that obviously isn’t the case.” His voice was deep with an aggressive edge.

Although I held my head angled toward the floor, I looked up through my lashes to observe their encounter.

“Lanzin. Thank you for answering my correspondence.” Vaelor tucked his wings neatly against his back and kept his posture straight, despite his strained attempt to look relaxed.

“What else was I supposed to do when I learned that my dear brother had been ruthlessly killed and taken into Spiritu Malignos? Tell me, how did it happen?”

“A human slave poisoned the entire army when I was seeking to strike a bargain with them, and I too was poisoned. Their food taster was careless and ineffective.”

I bit my lip as I stared at the floor. Vaelor’s words were cool and calm as if he had come to terms with what I had done to him.

Lanzin huffed in disbelief. “Poisoned by a slave? Even in death, you are disappointing. This complicates things.” His tone was condescending. “We needed the mercenary army in order to have enough strength to take over Misophae. Now that is no more.” He moved to the bed and sat, stretching his wings. “I’ve been thinking about what we can do to rectify that issue.”

“There is nothing to be done,” Vaelor retorted. “You’ll inherit my lands. I was the one who brought dishonor into the family, so hopefully you will work with the court to move into a place of reconciliation. Maybe even convince them to order Creedan to grant the freedom of our people.”

“Creedan isn’t the problem. It is the court and the king we need to win over.” He tilted his head, his glowing gaze accusing. “I was also on the chopping block, remember? When you ruined everything? But I have already done what I needed to do to prove my loyalty. However, the stain on our family name remains. There is no redemption unless we have something to offer. We agreed on this.”

Vaelor hadn’t moved from his spot near the fireplace, but the tenseness in his body since his brother had entered the room continued to increase. “As you say, unfortunately my death destroyed our plans.”

My heart pounded a little harder, hoping that the act was convincing enough, that Lanzin would accept Vaelor’s reasoning for why they must give up on invading Misophae.

“There is a way we still might regain our standing and position.” Lanzin leaned forward, the leather on his body creaking with the movement and his sword sheath banging against the bed frame. “We could make a deal with Spiritu Malignos to conquer Misophae and then split the territory between our two nations. It would not be as great as giving the Aeria court an entire kingdom, but we’d reclaim our ancestral lands that exist in Misophae. That would be enough to get us—well, I guess me—restored to power and to redeem our name.”

Vaelor didn’t speak, as if giving this consideration. He must not want to appear too quick to refuse him. Finally, he spoke. “We cannot trust Spiritu Malignos. If we make a deal, they’ll only turn on us.”

“Not if we forge a blood agreement. Spiritu Malignos is subject to them if they make it in their bodied state.” Lanzin rose and stepped forward, an earnestness in his movements. “You are in the perfect situation to present the offer. Not only will it secure you a position with the army, but you can leverage your position to ensure that they follow through.”