The next morning, I didn't wait for Athan to wake up. I couldn't handle the sight of his back…that wall of black feathers that had shut me out like I was a nuisance.
I slipped out of bed, my feet hitting the cold stone, and grabbed a robe. I needed to wash the smell of him off me. I needed to wash the feeling of rejection off my skin.
I headed for the lower levels of the palace where the thermal springs were. Argenta had told me the water was piped in from the volcanic heart of the mountain. She said it was healing. Right now, I just wanted to drown the feeling of being "tested" like a piece of equipment.
The bathhouse was massive, filled with thick white steam and the sound of dripping water. I stripped off my robe, feeling the cool air hit my shadow wings. They were drooping, gray and wispy, reflecting exactly how pathetic I felt. I stepped into the largest pool, the water so hot it almost stung, and sank until it reached my chin.
"Peace," I whispered, closing my eyes. "Just five minutes of peace."
"Excuse me, beautiful."
I snapped my eyes open. A male servant was standing near the edge of the pool, holding a stack of fresh towels. He wasn't a soldier; he was younger, with small horns and a clever, annoying smirk. He was looking at me in a way that made my skin crawl…not with fear, but with a kind of oily familiarity.
"I haven't seen you here before," he said, stepping closer. He let his eyes wander over my bare shoulders. " Are you a new arrival? I could show you the better pools later tonight. It gets lonely in these halls, doesn't it?"
I stared at him, stunned. My brain felt sluggish. He thought I was a concubine. He didn't see a Queen; he saw a girl without wings, soaking in a tub.
"I'm the King's wife," I said, my voice cold.
The servant laughed. It was a sharp, mocking sound. "Sure you are, sweetheart. And I'm the next Lord of the Marches. Athan wouldn't marry a wingless bird. But don't worry, I like them a little broken—"
He reached out, his hand moving toward my face as if to stroke my cheek. I wanted to move. I wanted to summon the shadows and choke him. But I was frozen, that old Aetherian fear pinning me to the spot.
"I wouldn't finish that sentence if you enjoy having hands."
The voice came from the steam behind the servant. It was low, vibrationally deep, and sounded like a blade sliding over stone.
The servant froze. His face went from smug to bone-white in half a second. He turned around, and there was Athan.
The King wasn't wearing a shirt. He was wrapped in a simple black towel around his waist, his massive wings dripping with condensation. He looked like a god of wrath. He didn't look exhausted anymore; he looked ready to tear the world apart.
"M-My King!" the servant stammered, dropping the towels. "I didn't—I thought she was just—"
"You thought she was someone you could touch," Athan said, stepping into the light. He didn't even raise his voice, which made it ten times scarier. "She is the Queen of the Underworld. And you just touched her air."
Athan's wing flicked….a movement so fast I barely saw it. The edge of his feathers caught the servant across the chest, sending him flying backward into a stone pillar. The man hit the ground with a groan and scrambled away on his hands and knees, not even looking back as he bolted for the exit.
Athan watched him go, his jaw tight. Then, he turned his gaze to me.
The silence was heavy. I stayed in the water, my heart hammering. I expected him to scold me for being out here alone, or to tell me to get dressed and stop causing trouble. After last night, I didn't know what to expect.
Instead, he stepped into the pool.
He didn't say anything as he waded toward me. The water rose to his waist, then his chest. He stopped when he was just inches away. I could feel the heat of his body mixing with the thermal water. It was overwhelming.
"I heard what he said," Athan muttered. He looked down at the water, his eyes dark. "He won't be back. Ever."
"It happens," I said, trying to sound brave. "People think I'm nothing without wings. You thought the same thing when I first got here. You probably still think it."
Athan flinched. It was a small movement, but I saw it. He reached out, his hand underwater, and I felt his fingers graze my calf. It was a light, "accidental" touch, but it sent a jolt of electricity straight to my spine.
"About last night," he said, finally looking me in the eye. "I shouldn't have turned away like that."
"It's fine, Athan. You were tired. You had a war—"
"No," he interrupted. He moved closer, his thigh brushing against mine under the surface. The contact was electric. It made my messy thoughts even messier. "I'm not afraid of the war, Celeste. I'm afraid of myself."
I blinked, the steam curling around us. "What do you mean?"
"I've lived for four centuries," he whispered. He reached out, his hand surfacing to trace the line of my wet shoulder. His touch was hesitant, almost shy…which was the last thing I expected from a Devil king. "I've never felt magic like yours. It's chaotic, yes, but it's... it's hungry. And my demon? He's hungrier."
He leaned in, his forehead almost touching mine. I could see the water droplets clinging to his eyelashes. "Last night, when you asked me to take you... I felt my control slipping. If I start, Celeste, I don't know if I can stop. I was afraid I'd hurt you. I'm a creature of hunger, and you... you're the most delicious thing I've ever seen."
My brain stalled. He wasn't testing me. He wasn't looking for a weapon. He was... scared of his own desire? The Great Demon King was afraid he'd lose his mind because of a wingless girl.
"You won't break me," I whispered, repeating his own words back to him.
"You say that now," he murmured. He shifted, his hand sliding behind my neck, his thumb stroking the spot where he'd bitten me yesterday. "But you're still so small. So soft. My demon doesn't know how to be gentle when it wants something this badly."
He moved his other hand, his knuckles grazing my hip underwater. Every place he touched felt like it was catching fire. I leaned into him, my shadow wings suddenly waking up, fluttering under the water like dark silk ribbons. They were trying to wrap around his legs, trying to pull him closer.
"I'm not that soft anymore," I said, my voice shaking. "I have shadows now, remember?"
Athan let out a low, ragged breath. He pulled me closer, our chests almost touching. I could feel his heartbeat…fast, erratic, matching mine. He didn't kiss me. He just held me there, in the hot, misty silence, his skin grazing mine at every point possible. It was a torture of "almosts." His thigh was pinned between mine, and I could feel how much he was struggling to stay still.
"We should go," he whispered, though he didn't move an inch. "Argenta is waiting. There's a council meeting. The Lords are already complaining."
"Let them wait," I breathed, my hands finding his wet shoulders.
Athan's eyes flashed a violent, brilliant gold. He leaned down, his lips ghosting over mine, just barely touching. "Soon, Little Bird. I promise.You are not strong enough and if we stay in this water any longer, I'm going to forget I'm a King and remember I'm a beast. And I don't think you're ready for the beast yet."
He pulled back, his hand lingering on my waist as he waded out of the pool. He didn't look back, but I saw the way his wings were flared…wide, tense, and pulsing.
I stayed in the water, my head spinning. He liked me. He actually, truly liked me. And he was terrified of it. He was trying to protect me from himself, which was the most "Athan" thing I could imagine.
But as I watched him walk away, all I could think about was that he was wrong. I was ready. I was so ready for the beast.
I stood up, the water dripping off my skin, and realized I wasn't just a weapon or a princess anymore. I was a woman who had a King on his knees.
The Springs
The next morning, I didn't wait for Athan to wake up. I couldn't handle the sight of his back…that wall of black feathers that had shut me out like I was a nuisance.
I slipped out of bed, my feet hitting the cold stone, and grabbed a robe. I needed to wash the smell of him off me. I needed to wash the feeling of rejection off my skin.
I headed for the lower levels of the palace where the thermal springs were. Argenta had told me the water was piped in from the volcanic heart of the mountain. She said it was healing. Right now, I just wanted to drown the feeling of being "tested" like a piece of equipment.
The bathhouse was massive, filled with thick white steam and the sound of dripping water. I stripped off my robe, feeling the cool air hit my shadow wings. They were drooping, gray and wispy, reflecting exactly how pathetic I felt. I stepped into the largest pool, the water so hot it almost stung, and sank until it reached my chin.
"Peace," I whispered, closing my eyes. "Just five minutes of peace."
"Excuse me, beautiful."
I snapped my eyes open. A male servant was standing near the edge of the pool, holding a stack of fresh towels. He wasn't a soldier; he was younger, with small horns and a clever, annoying smirk. He was looking at me in a way that made my skin crawl…not with fear, but with a kind of oily familiarity.
"I haven't seen you here before," he said, stepping closer. He let his eyes wander over my bare shoulders. " Are you a new arrival? I could show you the better pools later tonight. It gets lonely in these halls, doesn't it?"
I stared at him, stunned. My brain felt sluggish. He thought I was a concubine. He didn't see a Queen; he saw a girl without wings, soaking in a tub.
"I'm the King's wife," I said, my voice cold.
The servant laughed. It was a sharp, mocking sound. "Sure you are, sweetheart. And I'm the next Lord of the Marches. Athan wouldn't marry a wingless bird. But don't worry, I like them a little broken—"
He reached out, his hand moving toward my face as if to stroke my cheek. I wanted to move. I wanted to summon the shadows and choke him. But I was frozen, that old Aetherian fear pinning me to the spot.
"I wouldn't finish that sentence if you enjoy having hands."
The voice came from the steam behind the servant. It was low, vibrationally deep, and sounded like a blade sliding over stone.
The servant froze. His face went from smug to bone-white in half a second. He turned around, and there was Athan.
The King wasn't wearing a shirt. He was wrapped in a simple black towel around his waist, his massive wings dripping with condensation. He looked like a god of wrath. He didn't look exhausted anymore; he looked ready to tear the world apart.
"M-My King!" the servant stammered, dropping the towels. "I didn't—I thought she was just—"
"You thought she was someone you could touch," Athan said, stepping into the light. He didn't even raise his voice, which made it ten times scarier. "She is the Queen of the Underworld. And you just touched her air."
Athan's wing flicked….a movement so fast I barely saw it. The edge of his feathers caught the servant across the chest, sending him flying backward into a stone pillar. The man hit the ground with a groan and scrambled away on his hands and knees, not even looking back as he bolted for the exit.
Athan watched him go, his jaw tight. Then, he turned his gaze to me.
The silence was heavy. I stayed in the water, my heart hammering. I expected him to scold me for being out here alone, or to tell me to get dressed and stop causing trouble. After last night, I didn't know what to expect.
Instead, he stepped into the pool.
He didn't say anything as he waded toward me. The water rose to his waist, then his chest. He stopped when he was just inches away. I could feel the heat of his body mixing with the thermal water. It was overwhelming.
"I heard what he said," Athan muttered. He looked down at the water, his eyes dark. "He won't be back. Ever."
"It happens," I said, trying to sound brave. "People think I'm nothing without wings. You thought the same thing when I first got here. You probably still think it."
Athan flinched. It was a small movement, but I saw it. He reached out, his hand underwater, and I felt his fingers graze my calf. It was a light, "accidental" touch, but it sent a jolt of electricity straight to my spine.
"About last night," he said, finally looking me in the eye. "I shouldn't have turned away like that."
"It's fine, Athan. You were tired. You had a war—"
"No," he interrupted. He moved closer, his thigh brushing against mine under the surface. The contact was electric. It made my messy thoughts even messier. "I'm not afraid of the war, Celeste. I'm afraid of myself."
I blinked, the steam curling around us. "What do you mean?"
"I've lived for four centuries," he whispered. He reached out, his hand surfacing to trace the line of my wet shoulder. His touch was hesitant, almost shy…which was the last thing I expected from a Devil king. "I've never felt magic like yours. It's chaotic, yes, but it's... it's hungry. And my demon? He's hungrier."
He leaned in, his forehead almost touching mine. I could see the water droplets clinging to his eyelashes. "Last night, when you asked me to take you... I felt my control slipping. If I start, Celeste, I don't know if I can stop. I was afraid I'd hurt you. I'm a creature of hunger, and you... you're the most delicious thing I've ever seen."
My brain stalled. He wasn't testing me. He wasn't looking for a weapon. He was... scared of his own desire? The Great Demon King was afraid he'd lose his mind because of a wingless girl.
"You won't break me," I whispered, repeating his own words back to him.
"You say that now," he murmured. He shifted, his hand sliding behind my neck, his thumb stroking the spot where he'd bitten me yesterday. "But you're still so small. So soft. My demon doesn't know how to be gentle when it wants something this badly."
He moved his other hand, his knuckles grazing my hip underwater. Every place he touched felt like it was catching fire. I leaned into him, my shadow wings suddenly waking up, fluttering under the water like dark silk ribbons. They were trying to wrap around his legs, trying to pull him closer.
"I'm not that soft anymore," I said, my voice shaking. "I have shadows now, remember?"
Athan let out a low, ragged breath. He pulled me closer, our chests almost touching. I could feel his heartbeat…fast, erratic, matching mine. He didn't kiss me. He just held me there, in the hot, misty silence, his skin grazing mine at every point possible. It was a torture of "almosts." His thigh was pinned between mine, and I could feel how much he was struggling to stay still.
"We should go," he whispered, though he didn't move an inch. "Argenta is waiting. There's a council meeting. The Lords are already complaining."
"Let them wait," I breathed, my hands finding his wet shoulders.
Athan's eyes flashed a violent, brilliant gold. He leaned down, his lips ghosting over mine, just barely touching. "Soon, Little Bird. I promise.You are not strong enough and if we stay in this water any longer, I'm going to forget I'm a King and remember I'm a beast. And I don't think you're ready for the beast yet."
He pulled back, his hand lingering on my waist as he waded out of the pool. He didn't look back, but I saw the way his wings were flared…wide, tense, and pulsing.
I stayed in the water, my head spinning. He liked me. He actually, truly liked me. And he was terrified of it. He was trying to protect me from himself, which was the most "Athan" thing I could imagine.
But as I watched him walk away, all I could think about was that he was wrong. I was ready. I was so ready for the beast.
I stood up, the water dripping off my skin, and realized I wasn't just a weapon or a princess anymore. I was a woman who had a King on his knees.