Page 74 of King’s Kismet

Vaughn spluttered, attempting to reply, but York didn’t give him a spare moment. He took one giant step, forcing the fae to move with him as he began their dance.

The sensual movements were oddly out of place amongst the armor. We passed giant suits, each telling a story of their love for the Underworld and Lilith.

I didn’t read the nameplates, but I didn’t need to.

Prodéa the Merciless stood on our right. The founder of Oren, who named the territory after his lover, had been slain in battle outside the throne room. His horns towered atop his helmet, hanging over his spiked shoulders as he casually leaned on his enormous ax. If he were alive, that weapon would be coated in the bluest of flames.

Beside him stood Jovel the Cruel. His massive double-sided sword stretched across the floor as if reaching for his neighbor. One stout horn raised from the back of his head, curling over the face of his helmet, ready to gouge his enemies.

“Go left,” she whispered, not wanting Vaughn to hear her words.

York twirled Vaughn around in a circle, directing him down the left hall as they continued their march. The fae seemed to be enjoying himself, really getting into this tango with the druid. He stroked his fingers along York’s shoulder, and I bit into the side of my fist to stop my laughter.

The rest of the guys were as silent as they could be, but it was no easy task. Briggs was also biting into his hand, though he had tears streaming down his face too. Palmer had his teeth clamped against his lips, forcing himself to not verbalize his amusement. And Novak sounded like someone was choking him as his shoulders shook.

“Left again, and then take a right,” Sloane whispered, grinning at the spectacle.

The druid nodded his head slightly, then dipped Vaughn low. As the fae’s attention began to wander, York clicked his tongue.

“Eyes on me, Fae,” he commanded. “It’s almost time for our finale.”

York was an… excitable dancer. It was as if the music lived in his veins, offering him life as truly as his element did. He had this effortless way of moving through the paces, like nothing else mattered, and he was suddenly unstoppable.

He’d once told me that dancing with his mate was more intimate than sex. I had scoffed at him, but after watching Sloane in battle, it was easier to understand what he meant.

The knowledge of one’s movements before they made them was intimate.

That didn’t matter if blood was involved or not.

Ko the Quiet guarded the right side of the hall. His armor would be compared to a samurai today, but his two katanas were cursed to never be without his touch, becoming extensions of his arms. Two thin horns curved from his dragon’s leather helmet, reflecting light that wasn’t coming from the hall.

The last memorial that greeted us was of Shelo and Loshe, The Serpent Twins. They were fearsome female sea-fairing demons whose early history was as unknown as their cause of death.

Found as young teens, off the shore of a magical pond that once graced Lilk, with weapons in hand. Shelo carried a war hammer twice her size that no other demon outside of her sister was able to lift. Loshe swung a flail, a crescent-shaped blade with spines jutting from the dull side, suspended from an unbreakable chain.

Sloane stepped in front of the tango-ing druid and fae, pulling open the enormous doors that blocked our path. Doors I’d never been inside of.

As the pair danced inside, she called out to York, “You can have your finale now. It’s safe.”

York dipped Vaughn, and the fae flung his arms around at the sudden illusion of falling. When the druid yanked him back to standing, they were nose-to-nose.

Sloane’s gaze bounced between them, then landed on Novak before she was back to focusing on the dancing duo. I couldn’t say exactly what her thoughts were, but I saw the lust flitting across her face.

“Gods, Sloane.” York backed away from Vaughn, giving her a crazy look before bowing to his partner. “Thank you for tangoing with me, good sir. I look forward to dancing again, without our mate watching. Her mind just went…”

He made an explosion with his fingers, and she rolled her eyes at his dramatics.

“Yeah, you heard that, too?” Novak asked York. “I was ready to step in front of her if I needed to.” He turned to my Kitten. “Your mind goes from calm to naughty in like three seconds flat. It’s a frightening place to be inside of sometimes.”

“I’m not even sorry that you heard it,” she sassed. “But I’ve got to figure out how to keep you guys out of my thoughts. Why do you only hear them when they’re dirty?”

“Ha!” Palmer suddenly shouted, making the fae jump. “Now you know how I feel. How’s that for a taste of your own medicine, huh?”

Vaughn was stroking the edges of the ebony wood doors, tracing his fingertips along the etchings, before he suddenly snapped to attention. “Uhm, guys? These doors were made for giants. Do they live here?”

She snorted at him, biting her lips to hide her laughter. “No, Vaughn. No giants. Just demons with tall horns and wide wings. You’re safe.”

The twelve foot double doors that welcomed us into her space were magnificent, ancient structures that were original staples of the palace. Behind them, though? Everything was as modern as her shared kitchen with Jack. They’d turned this wing into a home of its own.