I don’t dare hop off until the rest of the guard has arrived, but I do twist in the saddle and hear Namir’s approach. His coat has blended in with the terrain. A black tiger stands before me with the same yellow eyes.
“What did you do?” I ask, laughing.
The black sands stain my white coat. I refuse to look like a dirty vagabond.
My laugh deepens. “You’re the best familiar a tri-bred girl could ask for.”
The sound of the others signals that playtime is over. I must put on my assassin face to survive what’s coming. My nuckelavee moves in anticipation as the others catch up.
“She’s fast,” Donaas says. “I’d love to enter her in a race.”
“They race nuckelavees?” I ask, my eyebrows raised.
“Yeah, there’s big money in it, too. Gets messy sometimes since not all mounts want to be cordial to the other nucks.”
The gate groans open, and we all stop talking, turning to face the inevitable. Fifteen demons stand side by side, in complete armor, pointing guns at us. I didn’t think the Demon Realm had guns.
“Dismount your nuckelavees and come with us.”
“We are the princesses of the Darklands. We demand to see the Death king,” Umbra states.
The lead demon scrutinizes us, but doubt flickers. “There is only one princess, and that is you.”
“Princess Anima is new to the realm. Recently reunited with her soul-merge parents. She is the true heir to the Darklands.”
I try not to groan out loud, but internally I’m regretting coming here. The demon still isn’t taking her word. He motions for his team to move forward. A gun battle here won’t prove anything except that we all die.
I hop off my mount, and Umbra hisses. Placing my hands in the air, I move in front of everyone. “What she says is true. I am the long-lost princess, but we aren’t here to talk about my lineage. We’re here to talk to the Death king about an invasion.”
His soldiers halt their movement, but before he can question me further, the flap of wings has me looking to the sky. Black feathers block the sun, and a man who is too gorgeous to exist lands in front of me.
His gaze drifts over our group before he turns his attention to me. His eyes boil with interest, and I flinch at his attention. This can’t be good.
“You are the new princess? The daughter of Nox?” he asks, moving into my space.
Namir growls low as he angles his body in front of mine. Surprise stops the Fallen angel. Namir’s coat ripples with fury, and Caedis smirks in response.
“The White Tyger, come to kill me at last. It’s only taken you a few centuries.”
I pause as I watch Namir get his anger under control. When we’re alone, I’ll be having that conversation with him.
“Death King, we seek an audience,” Umbra says, her regal stature showing she knows what’s she’s doing.
“I’ll allow the audience, but not with you. With her.” He points to me, and the soldiers’ scuffle in annoyance. I don’t want to be separated either.
“Your Majesty, Anima is not used to court politics. She’s unfamiliar with our customs,” Togmerin says.
Now I want to punch Togmerin, too. I’m not some weak female to be coddled because I didn’t grow up in this realm. Fuck this—it’s time to talk for myself.
“I’ll take the meeting on your word that my people won’t be hurt. Food, water, and shelter while we’re here and no other interventions or threats.”
His lips curve at the corners in a ghost of a smile, but a smile all the same. Seems he’s more than interested—he’s amused. Glancing over to the soldier who wouldn’t permit us through the gates, he nods.
Togmerin leads the party into the gates, and I wait behind with Umbra. She’s standing so close to me that I can feel her shaking. Caedis scares her, but I’m not sure why.
“Anser will show you to your rooms. Rest, eat, and tomorrow we will meet,” Caedis says before jumping in the air and flying away. His large wingspan drifts to the sky.
If we didn’t need him, I would have ripped his neck out.
I chuckle under my breath and take Umbra’s arm, leading her into the castle. There’s no going back now.
Nineteen
ANIMA
The rooms they granted us aren’t as opulent as in the Darklands. However, they are still extravagant by Mortal Realm standards. Our suite is done in black and gray with an onyx-cut fireplace. The glow of the fire is the only light in the room.
“There are two bedrooms. We’ll take one. Anima, you can have your own. The steward is bringing up food for us. Hopefully, we’ll be able to get this meeting done early in the morning,” Donaas says.
His stern look tells me he’s just as happy as Umbra to be here. I walk over to the window, then stare out at the land below. There are no gardens like in the Darklands. The black sand doesn’t reach inside the palace gates, but there is no greenery either.
“How do they grow food here?” I ask, no one in particular.
“They have underground greenhouses. It’s also rumored Caedis has his own portal to the Mortal Realm,” Vargroth responds.
A portal into the Mortal Realm doesn’t sound like something the Death king should have access to. I wonder what his part was when the demons invaded Earth.
There’s a knock on the door. The steward comes in, followed by a team of servants carrying trays of food. The smells make my mouth water. I didn’t eat this morning.
They leave as quickly as they came, and the five of us sit down at the table and waste no time enjoying our meal. There are crusts of bread and dried meats. No fruit, but there is something that looks like squash. Water is provided, along with an amber liquid Umbra tells
