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“You can ask,” I agreed, giving him a sweet smile. “But I will decline.”
Carnon sighed, looking up and mouthing what appeared to be a prayer for patience.
“Even I,” he said, returning to our earlier conversation, “am bound by the whims and desires of the Daemon Lords, who are, as we speak, on their way to this castle to meet you.” He said this last bit with something akin to frustration, and I was pleased that I was getting to him.
“Please, Elara,” he continued, leaning forward with his hands clasped between his knees, suddenly earnest. “I know you’re angry with me, and I know, probably better than you, that I deserve it. But I need your help with this. Herne has already told them who you are, and rumors of what happened in the Bloodwood outside Mithloria have reached them, heavily embellished, as rumors always are. Witches have been spotted in the Bloodwood, trying to tamper with our defenses. I need you to help me convince the Daemon Lords that I haven’t lost my mind and given my kingdom to the Crone.”
I frowned, my stomach twisting at the idea that my grandmother had sent witches after me into the Bloodwood. That innocent people might be at risk.
“Why would Herne tell them?” I asked. Herne was Carnon’s friend, and we had stayed with him and his mate Cerridwen when we had first arrived in Oneiros, the demon capital city. He had forced Carnon to bring me to the palace after discovering that I was the Crone’s granddaughter, but I thought that would be the end of it.
“Because he is one of them,” Carnon replied tiredly. “Herne is the Daemon Lord of Beasts. He governs the Court of Beasts on my behalf, and he perceives you and your grandmother as a threat to our people.”
“He’s one of the Daemon Lords?” I asked, shock racing through me.
Carnon and Cerridwen had told me about the Daemon Lords. Witches and mortals had twisted the word, until ‘demon’ became the accepted name for the creatures of great power who lived in the Darklands, but the Daemon Lords maintained their historic titles. Each court—those of Beast, Blood, Sun, and Shadow—was ruled by one of these lords, and all swore fealty to the Demon King, who was blessed by the Horned God with the powers of all four courts. I didn’t understand much about the Horned God or demon politics, but I understood that Carnon was being taken to task for bringing me into his realm without gaining their permission. My pleasure at this fact was short-lived.
“You told me the Daemon Lords wouldn’t come near me,” I accused, remembering Carnon’s assurance that I shouldn’t worry about them. I knew I was being petty, focusing on this small lie, but I let anger and hurt guide my tongue. “Are all of your lies finally coming back to haunt you?”
“Yes,” he snapped, narrowing his eyes at me. My heart stuttered for a moment as I saw anger and power—raw, unnatural power—flicker in them, before he closed them and sighed, bowing his head again.
“I’m sorry. Yes, Elara, my lies are coming back to haunt me, and I am fully aware that I deserve it.” He looked back up, expression serious and almost pleading. “And I will grovel for the next century in every way your dark little mind can imagine if you will just help me now.” Heat flared in my core at his words, which were clearly filled with both suggestion and promise. I doused the heat in imaginary ice, reminding myself to take a very cold bath later. If I had put innocent people—and demons, I supposed—at risk, then how was I any better than my grandmother if I didn’t help them now?
“What exactly would you need me to do?” I asked, sitting up a little and crossing my legs in the big armchair. His expression cleared a little, eyes going molten as he smirked.
“Gods, I have so many ideas about how we might use that armchair,” he purred, leaning forward a little more. He bit his lower lip between his teeth and twisted his black ring, giving me a desperate look.
“Focus,” I said, snapping my fingers at him to draw his eyes back to my face. “Or do you not want my help?”
“Fine,” Carnon agreed, looking wistfully at me. And the chair. “It wouldn’t be anything you haven’t already done, really.”
I raised my brows, waiting for him to elaborate. He sighed, looking like he already knew I wouldn’t agree.
“I need you topretendto be my betrothed,” he said, emphasizing the ‘pretend’ as a clear concession to me. “And I need you to tell themsomeof the truth. That you fled from the Coven and your grandmother. That your mother sent you to the Bloodwood for your safety, where you ran into Akela.”
“Akela?” I asked, realizing the giant, brown wolf wasn’t around. Usually he followed Carnon like a big guard dog, but he must be off hunting. “But not you?”
“I would prefer them to believe our meeting was…coincidental,” he said, hesitating over his words a bit.
“But it wasn’t,” I pointed out, narrowing my eyes. “My mother sent me to find you. And you said you were hunting for me, although you have not yet agreed to tell me why.”
“I know she sent you to find the Demon King, but I’d prefer the lordsnotknow that,” he said in a rush. “And I promise Iwilltell you why I was looking for you, but not until you’re ready for it.” He gave me an appraising look and added, “You’re definitelynotready for it.”
“Fine,” I snapped. “You want me to lie about how we met. Anything else?”
“I would prefer that the other Lords not learn the full extent of your powers,” Carnon said. “Herne obviously already knows, but the others don’t need to. If they ask, tell them you fled because you were suspected of consorting with demons, but nothing else. Herne will bite his tongue about the life and death magic if I threaten him properly.”
“Why?” I asked, thinking over this request. “Why lie to them if they’re your trusted advisors?”
Carnon laughed, but it was devoid of real mirth.
“Advisors, yes,” he said, shifting to sit back and crossing an ankle over a knee. “But trusted? No. Especially not Shadow. Or Blood.” I frowned at this, but he continued. “I don’t need them thinking I’ve brought an overpowered Coven heir here to steal the crown or rule their kingdom. Just play the part of the blushing betrothed, and deflect as many questions as you can to me.”
“Okay,” I said slowly, mulling over this plan. If I could work it to my advantage, this might be my only chance to get out of the Darklands and away from the Demon King.
To where, I had no idea. The Witchlands weren’t an option because of my murderous grandmother, and only the Hag was brave or insane enough to live in the Bloodwood. I didn’t know enough about this place, being so sheltered all my life, but somewhere else must be safer for me.
“Oh, and one more thing,” Carnon said, standing and stretching his neck from side to side. “Obviously, you’ll have to pretend to be in love with me,” he said, his smirk growing wicked as he moved to sit on the coffee table before me. “To convince them.”
