In War, There Is Love

I Promise

Demetrius’ eyes bored into the closed door as if he’d make her appear there again if he looked long enough.

The glass shattering from his tight grip and the sudden small burns in his palm from the cuts of the tiny pieces brought him back to reality.

Goddammit. She would be a challenge. One he was both dreading and looking forward to all at the same time.

But no one disrespected him like she had just done. The fact that she foolishly thought she could, but most importantly the fact that he had let her actually do it said a lot. Whatever this made-up attraction between them was, he’d find a way to destroy it, even if it was the last thing he would have to do.

His wife was brave. But just because she hadn’t seen what he could do yet. Demetrius couldn’t wait for the day she realized what she had done by stepping foot inside this place.

There was no escape for her now.

Perhaps if she had acted like the innocent, timid, scared little faerie, Demetrius would have shown mercy on her—or maybe not, who knows. But what he did know was he wouldn’t now.

She wanted to play in the big game. She had to prepare herself to lose.

And what a loss it would be.

“Demetri.” Lilith flew the door open, as always not bothering to knock, being followed by a worried Anthony, both replicas of one another. “What happened?” she asked when she took in his bloody hand.

Slowly, Demetrius started licking clean his own blood, not avoiding the tiny pieces of glass cutting now his tongue too. For a second, he imagined it was her blood.

Oh, he would taste it really soon. Just so he could test his theory, if it was as sweet as it smelled.

Demetrius would be really disappointed if it wasn’t. So for her own good, the little faerie had to pray she tasted the sweetest of them all.

“That’s disgusting, brother.” Anthony rolled his eyes, ever the annoyed little brother that hadn’t gotten used to Demetrius’ brutal ways even after living together for centuries.

Lilith groaned. “Can somebody tell me what’s going on? You look bothered.”

Sometimes—most of the time—Demetrius hated how well they knew him. “Nothing I cannot solve in a matter of days, little sister,” he reassured her, because this is what he wanted to believe, even if it took every bloody witch in this world to reverse whatever his darling wife had done to him.

“You were literally looking at her like she was the most delicious thing in the world,” Anthony told him, crossing his arms on his chest and leaning on the closest wall.

It was one of those rarest times when Demetrius avoided his brother’s eyes. He went for the bottle now that his glass was shattered, and his mind immediately went to her lips wrapped around it. f**k, the image did something strange to his body. “Well, the scent of her blood was strong.”

“No, there’s something else,” his sister insisted, sounding frustrated. “Not only the way you looked at her, but the way she looked at you. There was this tension—”

“She’s my mate,” he cut her off, acting like he was growing tired of this conversation, when in fact, getting it out of his chest felt somehow better. Like he was closer to finding a solution to this rapidly-growing infection that had such a gorgeous face.

Their jaws hung low, their mouths wide open he fought the urge to walk to them and snap them shut. Demetrius could have told them he was growing wings like a bloody faerie, they wouldn’t have looked this dumbfounded.

But of course they would look at him like that. He was talking about his mate. Like it was even possible to have one at this point.

Lilith spoke first, “Are you hearing yourself? Your mate?!”

“This is a mistake.” Anthony suddenly looked worried. “We don’t have mates, Demetri. We cannot.”

Of course they couldn’t. All three of them were cursed to spend their immortality without their mates by their sides. Which was more than okay for Demetrius himself, because the idea of having someone fated to him by some possibly higher power seemed more than ridiculous, if only he didn’t decipher the loneliness in his siblings’ eyes from time to time. Especially Anthony’s, who had actually, once upon a time, met and lost his mate.

Vampires could only have one mate in their long lifetime. At least this is what the myths said. Their own King couldn’t give a damn if it was true or not.

“We don’t,” Demetrius simply agreed. “And yes, we can’t.” He met Lilith’s eyes, but she avoided his gaze instantly. Like she was hiding something. They didn’t hide anything from each other, but he would have to talk to his sister another time. “Which means my little wife has done something with her pretty, sparkly magic.”

Anthony’s eyes rose in suspicion. “A spell?”

“She’s not a witch,” Lilith argued.

“She could have gotten one to do something. Probably thinking it would make things easier for her if she got me to like her.” He grinned at her ridiculous attempt and took another gulp from the whiskey bottle. “More stupid than brave if you ask me.”

But Anthony looked lost in his thoughts. “For some reason she doesn’t look like the type who hides behind spells. She looks defiant. More brave than stupid if you ask me.”

The bottle in Demetrius’ hand stopped right above his lips. A smirk made its way into his face. “What’s the matter, little brother? Do you wish you were the one married to her instead?” His voice held humor, sarcasm, but there were some layers of threat that had come out unintentionally.

What was he doing? Why was simply the idea of his brother taking his place murderous?

Anthony’s grin was huge now. “Would it bother you, Demetri?”

Demetrius handed the bottle to his brother, who took it and drank while still holding a smile on his face. “If you suddenly have a faerie kink, I’ve heard Silas has many other daughters.”

“I’ve seen them all,” Anthony said with a shrug and a wink. “None prettier than your wife.”

His teeth grinded together tightly, but he kept the wicked grin on his face. “The forbidden tastes better, doesn’t it?”

“Can you two stop?” Lilith rolled her pretty dark eyes a little too dramatically if you asked Demetrius. “Children.”

Not being able to kill someone sucked. There wasn’t a day in his life he didn’t want to murder at least one of them, but mostly both. “This is enough brotherly-sisterly conversation for one night,” he said mostly to himself, as he got ready to leave the room.

“What? Too eager for your first night of marriage?” Anthony teased, the asshole finding joy out of this misery.

“One would think you’re way too interested in my intimate life, little brother. Are you lacking yours?”

A chuckle was the only response he got.

***

“What did he do?”

It was actually kind of funny how Maya’s father acted protective towards her when he had been the one to marry her off to the Vampire King himself. Maybe he had expected her to never get out of that room. Or get out bloody and broken.

None of that had happened despite the fact Maya had provoked Demetrius instead of keeping her mouth shut. Like she always did.

She had no intention of changing it, even if it made things worse with her new, not-so-peaceful, kind-of-insane husband.

Screw him.

Screw all of the male species. They all sucked.

“Oh, nothing important. Threatening my life and all that. Things all lucky brides hear on their first night of marriage.” Sometimes Maya hated her sweet, sarcastic smile as much as her father did.

“Well, you aren’t dead at least.” He whispered it like it was a relief.

Maya laughed. “Were you preparing for my funeral already, Father?”

“Of course I was. What was that scene you did in his Throne Room? Sitting on the throne without his permission?”

Silas was getting on her nerves almost as much as her husband was. “I don’t need his permission about anything!” she argued in a hushed voice, looking behind her back from time to time to see if someone was coming. Now that the sun had risen, there was no light inside the castle. And if King Demetrius didn’t succeed in driving her insane, this would. “I am not his servant, I am his—” Mate, she was about to say.

But she wasn’t. Not really. This was all a big, huge mistake that complicated everything. Maya was a faerie, and faeries were the most pureblooded species to exist in Mysticland. While there were rare times when faeries could choose to mate with one of another kind, absolutely no one had ever heard of a faerie being bonded by fate to one creature of another kind, let alone a vampire.

“Have you done something?” Maya asked King Silas. “With Demetrius?”

“What do you mean?” He furrowed his brows in confusion, looking irritated, as if being here was making him itchy. Tell that to her, who would be forced to live there for the rest of her life.

“I mean a spell or something—” But she stopped once she realized her father really had no idea what she was talking about. King Silas could be many things, but a good actor wasn’t one of them. He wore his emotions in his face. Which meant this wasn’t his doing.

But if not him, then who? Who would get something out of putting a spell on them?

And then... putting a spell on the Vampire King himself? She didn’t know if there existed a creature strong enough to do that.

Could this bond be... true?

No.

No, absolutely not.

For a split second she wanted to confide to her father, at least for the first time in the twenty-six years of her life, but the urge to keep this in won once more. He wouldn’t understand. He would either claim her to be a liar, or maybe not a full-blooded faerie, doubting if he was her father in the first place, or he would use this in his favor, which was most likely.

None of that was what Maya desired.

“Nothing,” she sighed. “I’m talking nonsense. I think you should go. The longer you stay here, the higher the risk of the King snapping and wanting to get rid of you.”

“He can do nothing to me,” Silas gruffed.

Yes. Like Maya didn’t recognize the fear in his eyes instead. “Of course.” She almost rolled her eyes.

“Maya.” To her utter surprise, her father walked closer to her and took her face in his palms. “I want you to believe that I wanted nothing of this for you. Not this and not... back then.”

She closed her eyes. It was the first time her father referred to it as it had happened for real. All the other times were forget, forget, forget.

“I know?”

Did she know? No.

“Maybe I have failed you like a father,” he whispered, his blue eyes showing regret and guilt, “but you have grown up to be like this, so at least there’s a good thing out of it.”

Maya wasn’t sure how true this was, but a part of her appreciated his words anyway. Most probably the daddy issues part.

“I want you to consider what I asked you.”

“Father,” she hushed him, walking away from his somewhat comforting, somewhat not, touch. “This is insane.”

“Kill him, Maya,” he whispered, his voice low but firm. “At least promise me you’ll think of it.”

Instinctively she looked behind her back again. It felt like there was this lurking darkness somewhere close to them, but it had to be just her panic of being heard.

“Father.”

“Maya,” he insisted. “Promise me.”

She sighed. Murdering her maybe-mate? Would she be able to do it? Could her heart, no matter how cold, come out unscratched?

Maya wasn’t sure. But when she thought of the threats and the murder in her husband’s whiskey eyes while he gripped her chin like all he wanted to do was break her in pieces, all she could whisper was, “I promise.”

.

.

.

___

A/N:

First of all, I didn't mean to take this long between updates, but life keeps happening. I keep wishing for the summer holidays to come as if we're not in mid-July already. Being an adult sucks.

Second, I'm seriously considering writing books about Lilith and Anthony. I have a few ideas for both of them, but if I do, they'll be shorter than the previous books in this series for sure. Tell me what you think.

XOXO