Chained to the Devil’s Daughter (Mating the Elements #1)

9

Searra

T he journey home was long and quiet in the gryffion carriage I shared with Filaris. The massive animal’s paws were soft as a housecat’s on the sandstone-and-bone bridge, working in tandem with its harnessed wings to carry us at a fleet pace.

Although I couldn’t make out the laborers so far below, I watched the rings pass with an exhausting ache in my heart. Demons and humans of every age suffered over bones of long-dead creatures. Whether the Forgotten Ones were gods, ancient Firefolk, or regular people like the ones who bled to find their bones, no one knew. Whatever they’d been, they were Devil’s excuse to work people to early deaths.

Hell had such potential. Bones of the Forgotten Ones could fortify any metal, stone, or spell. Typically found five kilometers below the surface, the resource was not as common in other areas of Fyre. The special bones could make Hell a thriving kingdom, one that contributed to Fyre as a whole. Instead, it was a cesspit of greed and death. A blight on the map of the fire elemental territory.

If I could pull it off. I sighed and rested my elbow on the wooden ledge, chin in hand.

“You’re doing fine.” Filaris squeezed my knee. “You’re already a strong queen.”

I accepted her misplaced comfort.

Soon, I would ease the ache that had embedded in my chest the first night Ash’ren showed me the labor rings. I would end my people’s suffering. The destiny I chose for myself would come to pass after decades of believing in a fanciful dream. The waiting, the planning, the emptiness and the hopelessness of doing nothing day in and out. Of standing by while my people were harmed. The flames-forsaken hoopla I was forced through for the nobles’ sake. I would finally stop being a helpless damsel in fancy clothes.

∞∞∞

The evening was a blur. As always, the nobles of rings One and Two, plus a few stragglers from Three, gathered in the dining hall to sup. My father’s vanity required such daily gatherings, lest his richer subjects forget how fantabulous he was.

I picked at the beef tips on my platter, kicking my uncomfortable heel against the wooden panel of the table I shared with the suitor-of-the-year on the dais. Filaris was mingling in the hall, while I grew exhausted trying to keep from searching for Ash’ren every few seconds. His discomfort was palpable from across the room, and I itched to take him to my rooms and show him how I’d missed him.

Clearing my throat, I waved to my lead attendant. Fara was a sweet, quiet woman who’d been my companion since my father gifted her to me—ick—after seeing how lonely I was with my only friend locked in a flaming tower. When we first met, she’d been a deliriously devoted follower of Devil’s false religion. That kind of brain-blistering hogwash never really leaves someone, but I can’t fault her without being a hypocrite myself.

I cast a farewell smile to Filaris, who inclined her head before returning to her conversation with Infernia, the business-savvy demon lord of Rings Three and Four, known for its blacksmiths, tinkerers, stonemasons, and other trades. Infernia was a silent but steadfast supporter of the rebellion who’d been laying the groundwork for this day long before I was born.

“He’s already gone to bed, my lady,” Fara informed quietly when I glanced around the room. “I had Smok’in follow to assure he arrived unharmed.”

“Unharmed? Are the people so alarmed by his arrival?”

“Some. Mostly your coven of jealous exes.”

I snorted, causing a passing noble to sneer in our direction. Whoops. “Then Smok’in will not be enough. Our friendly guard might only get in the way.”

“True. I heard his journey here was a hot one.”

“Yes.” I hesitated. “Fara, do you think I have changed greatly?”

Fara was quiet for the final paces to the grand entrance of the royal living quarters and all the way to my room, where she took my hand and squeezed.

“No one can stay the same for nine years. You’ll both learn to love again, Your Majesty.”

“Please, it’s Searra on this side of that door,” I scolded halfheartedly. My gaze snagged on the wall hiding Ash’ren, sleeping in his guest rooms.

“It’s been many days since I was brought to your home, dear. I don’t think the habit will break now.”

“Then some people don’t change after all.”

Fara swatted my arm, drawing my attention to my friend. “Of course, not everything changes. You have a sturdy foundation to build upon.” She took my shoulders before busying herself with my braids. “He burned down Hell, the sacred ground of a deity. That should not be possible. Rejoice, he’s returned to you, and if the two of you can’t defy even more laws to be together, there’s no hope for the rest of us.”

I winced. “Fara, my father is no—”

“I know, I know,” Fara said sheepishly, tucking her hands around her chest defensively. “Still. It’s good advice, okay?”

“All right. Good night, Fara.”

Fara opened the door and bowed out of the room.

Nine years and my bedroom had never truly become my own. The shelves were full of books we’d read together. The bed canopy was covered with stars we’d crafted together. The velvet-soft throw at the end of the bed, the very one we’d covered our bodies with in the early days of our exploration. Memories that’d contributed to the crushing depression I’d miraculously waded through all this time. Most of all, the window with a view of the gardens through branches of a dragoncherry tree.

I opened the window a crack.

My gaze slipped to the golden door. Filaris would sleep there tonight, where many others had slept before. Soon it would be Ash’ren’s turn to lay his head upon those pillows, but I doubted they would feel his weight a single night.

“All righty, almighty,” I chirped. Clapping my hands, I busied myself around the room. A wild flash of deja vu sent me spiraling through the wrong timeline, giggling like a cannibal on a Sunday.

Time dragged on. I curled up in an armchair and read until I became sleepy and went to bed to get more comfortable, stacking pillows behind me lest I truly fall asleep. Ugh, especially with such boring reading material! I clapped the book shut and paced to the bookshelf, replacing the biography of Hell’s iconic metal band, The Dead Blondes, in favor of a sweeping romantasy between a water nymph and a fire spirit. I smiled, running a finger down the spine. Ash’ren used to pretend listening helped him learn to read, but he’d never come up with an excuse for why he preferred romance novels. Particularly the ones with heaps of forbidden heat.

I read the back cover as I walked toward the bed. A deep voice sent goosebumps racing up my neck.

“Hello, princess.” The scraping of boots, the thud of them landing on the carpet. The window squeaked shut. “Expecting someone?”

Warmth on my backside. A claw-tipped hand twice the size of mine stole the book. “Ah. Taking matters into your own hands. Very queenly.”

An overwhelming sense of butterfly wings assaulted my organs. Every inch of my skin tingled with the anticipation of his touch, the feel of his arms around me never forgotten in my muscles’ memory.

“Ash’ren,” I breathed his name like a plea. Warm, rough hands circled my waist, palms flattening on the dips of my hips. The stiff length of his cock against my lower back sent a shiver down my spine, but the tickle of breath against the shell of my ear made me sob. “You’re here.”

“Where I belong.”

Eager teeth teased my earlobe, and my relieved sob became real tears that streamed over my quivering smile. He swept me off my feet, cradling me against his chest to lick away the tears. “I’m here, Firefly. It’s real.”

It’s real. He said the words soothingly, but when I tilted my head against his collar, I saw my same giddiness at their ridiculous melody reflected in his boyish smile. So, it was really, really real. I guess I hadn’t truly believed it until I saw him slink through a broken window.