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“Well, I haven’t been their boss for that long,” Carnon said, looking chagrined. “Come on.”
He turned to walk out of the library, pulling me along with him.
“How long have you been the king then?” I asked, jogging a step to keep up with him. His legs were much longer than mine, and I was realizing that he didn’t exactly set a leisurely pace anywhere he went. Akela huffed irritably, nudging at me to keep up.
“A decade,” Carnon replied, leading me in a new direction I hadn’t yet explored. “It’s not too cold outside, but would you like a cloak?”
“Wait, what?” I asked, having trouble keeping up with the pace of conversation and walking at the same time. “Can we slow down for a second?”
“A cloak,” Carnon repeated, sounding like he was speaking to someone very slow witted. “We’re going out for dinner.”
“Oh,” I said, bristling a little. “No, thank you.” I pulled at the hand he was holding and he released me, sighing and shoving his hands in his pockets.
“Okay, let me try this again,” he said. He closed his eyes for a second as if to compose himself, then opened them to gaze at me with serpentine intensity. “Will you please go to dinner with me, Elara?” When I didn’t respond, he added, “I promise to answer any five questions of your choosing with complete honesty.”
“Only five?” I asked, narrowing my eyes and crossing my arms over my chest.
Carnon smirked wickedly. “Six, if you include that one. Yes.”
“Why can’t we eat here?” I asked, taking a small step back. “And that had better not count as one of the five.”
Carnon groaned frustratedly, running a hand through his hair and looking at me with a mixture of fondness and incredulity that made my stomach do acrobatics. “Because I thought you might like to see the city after being cooped up for three days,” he said, closing the distance between us. “A city which, not a week ago, you said you felt you belonged in. I want to hear about your research, and you have an endless number of questions. I’d also prefer to eat out among my people than in this stuffy palace.”
I widened my eyes at this, thinking the palace was anything but stuffy, and hesitating over the invitation. I did not want to let Carnon weasel his way back into my good graces, but the lure of five honestly answered questions was strong. If I was truly honest with myself, I had missed his company as well, but I shoved that feeling down as far as I could.
“Will I have to pretend to be your betrothed among your people?” I asked, raising a brow at him.
He smirked. “Youaremy betrothed,” he purred, eyes flicking to Mama’s necklace, a black shadow stone encased in golden threads. The necklace had been the item that bound my unintentional betrothal to Carnon, and I had made a mental note during my research to try to find out something about its origins and properties.
We had no idea how my mother had come into possession of the heirloom of every Demon King to ever rule the Darklands. Carnon had told me, after lying through his teeth about everything, that the necklace had been missing for decades, and was of demon origin. It had been used as a sign of betrothal for all of the demon kings before the last, when it had disappeared.
The necklace gave a little pulsing thrum, as if it were aware I was thinking about it. “You know what I mean,” I snapped, shoving the necklace down under the slouchy sweater I was wearing. “Will I have to pretend to like you?”
“You do like me,” Carnon said, with so much self-assurance that I wanted to smack him. He had somehow moved closer without me realizing, and he loomed above me, staring like a cobra watching a particularly delicious mouse. “So, no. Just be your charming, adorable self.”
I rolled my eyes, my stomach choosing that moment to growl loudly. Carnon smirked.
“Fine,” I said, offering him my hand. He looked at it like it might bite him, and I rolled my eyes. “I accept your invitation on the condition that your answers to my five questions are more than one word.”
His face broke into an almost boyish grin as he took my hand and dragged me through the palace.
Chapter 4
“This is where you want to have dinner?” I asked, eyeing the rather unimpressive looking tavern with skepticism. I had expected Carnon to try to delight me with rapturous views and fine dining and all of the luxury Oneiros had to offer. Instead, he had brought me to what looked to be a very ordinary, very average ale house frequented by local mortals and demons of a somewhat lower class.
“Why so skeptical, Red?” Carnon asked, grinning down at me. “Did you expect me to woo you with more finery?”
“Yes,” I replied flatly. “But you can’t woo me, so I suppose it doesn’t matter. And don’t call me Red.”
Carnon sighed. “If the food here doesn’t win your heart, then nothing will,” he said, guiding me with a gentle hand to my lower back. I guess the blood bargain didn’t interpret this as a romantic gesture either, because he didn’t die, and his knowing glance at me told me he had made note of it.
The tavern was warm and noisy and merry, loud music and laughter and singing filling the small space. No one batted an eye at Carnon dressed as he was, and I supposed I looked like any other human in the establishment as well.
Humans and demons crowded into the small space, some dining together, some separate, and some doing far more than just dining. I blushed at the overt displays of interest and—affection wasn’t the right word—outright lust.
“Avert your virgin eyes, Red,” Carnon said, clearly ignoring my request for him not to use his nickname.
“They’re not virginal anymore,” I hissed, feeling heat creeping up my cheeks and anger simmering in my gut. “And is it normal for demons to just…” I hesitated, feeling awkward now discussing this with him.
