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“I will find you,” I promise her.
Finally, my nose leads me to a tall, stately manor house. It’s quite elegant, a nice home. Whoever lives here is certainly privileged, a bit better off than the ordinary, lower-class demons such as myself.
The only reason I’m favored by the King enough to get a mate like Anastasia is because of my skill in battle. I was born a nobody, but I’ve fought for the King long enough to catch his attention over the years.
Even now, it came almost as an after-thought. A thank you he felt I deserved, because I have stood by his side for many significant events. I was there for the liberation of Ti’lith, and the raid on Protheka. I suppose it could be argued that, without me, we might not have any of the women at all.
And that’s why the King gave me Anastasia. I didn’t come from money or power, the way that whoever lives here must.
I pause, looking over the manor once more. It occurs to me that something about it looks familiar, and then it hits me. My blood runs cold as the last piece of the puzzle falls into place.
I know who lives here. And if they have Anastasia, I might never get her back at this rate.
115
VOLIKAN
I sigh, staring at the heavy wooden door. For her to have ended up here, of all places.
But then I take a deep breath, pushing ahead. I can’t abandon my mission now, even if I don’t want to see what waits for me inside. I have a feeling it won’t be good – but I need Anastasia back. That’s the most important thing, far more significant than my own pride or reputation.
I rap forcefully on the door, demanding their attention. I am here for my mate, and I will not be turned away. I knock persistently, not ceasing until someone finally answers.
A dark elf servant pulls open the door, already looking annoyed. I suppose the amount of commotion that I’ve made could explain the expression, but it still rubs me the wrong way. I’m not fond of being treated with disdain by a dark elf, of all things.
I try to conceal my irritation, knowing that I need his help. Picking a fight, though it comes easily to me, is not the right course of action. Not now.
But wouldn’t I love to wipe that condescending look off his stupid elf face?
I briefly note that he is wearing the collar typical of elf servants, suggesting that his magic is being restrained. He is the lowest of the low, yet still dares to sneer at me. “What do you want, volvath?” he demands.
My skin instantly prickles, and I can feel my blood pressure rising. There’s a haze starting to cloud across my mind, urging me toward violence. It takes everything I have to control myself.
I picture Anastasia. The greatest single motivation for remaining clear headed. I can feel my pulse slow, sensibility winning out.
“I want my mate,” I demand. “I’ve tracked her here, and I know she’s inside. Give her back.”
“Maybe you should be more careful with your things,” he sneers.
My fist clenches, and I am barely able to resist the lure of violence. How dare a dark elf talk back to a demon? And me, particularly?
I am not a nobody – I am one of the king’s favored warriors! He may work for a wealthy and important demon family; one whose status supersedes mine. But that doesn’t make him either of those things.
He is a servant, and even worse, a dark elf. He would do well to remember his position. Under any other circumstances, I would gladly remind him of it.
A human woman interrupts my thoughts, walking daintily down the stairs. Her long skirt swishes with every step, announcing her entrance. She moves with precision, calmly, but her face looks stern and no-nonsense.
At the bottom of the stairs, she turns to face me. She comes close enough to make it clear that she has no hesitation – she is not afraid of me. Her boldness catches me off guard, as few humans would dare to approach me so brazenly.
She stands beside her elf, blocking my entrance through the door. Then she stares at me with stormy gray eyes, an unspoken challenge laying within them. “You may go, Conall,” she says coolly, her gaze never breaking from mine.
The elf doesn’t bother to question her, simply nods his head and departs. I’m almost speechless, that she would not only be willing to be left alone with me, but actually request it. Does this human lack all sense?
Even when it is just the two of us remaining, she doesn’t flinch. In fact, she doesn’t seem intimidated at all. Though she’s a small waif of a woman, she draws up her shoulders as if she thinks that her size matches my own.
Narrowing her gray eyes, she continues to stare me down. There’s an animosity there that I can’t figure out – not only do I not know what I did to deserve it, but I can’t believe that a human would be so brave as to make it so transparent. I could break her in half, and she dares to look down her nose at me!
Unwavering, she shakes her head in disgust. Her short blonde hair rustles with the motion. “I can’t believe you’d have the nerve to show up here after what you did,” she declares, making no effort to hide the contempt in her voice.
