FOUR

Astaroth

A SOFT GLOW OF white broke through my darkness. I peeled open my eyes to see billowy curtains of golden silk with patterns of dragon skulls decorated on them surrounding a canopy bed covered in black satin. A marbled floor of gold and black spread out across the room filled with plush cushions and velvety chairs of whites, blacks, and various shades of gold and red.

I sat up, rubbing my tired face. This room was familiar. No, it wasn’t home, but somewhere safe. The urge to run didn’t pique my interest. Instead, I slowly clambered out of bed, surprised that my side didn’t hurt. I touched where the open wound should have been, but nothing. My body didn’t recoil from pain, nor did I spot any lingering blood.

Behind me, I heart someone clear their throat. A smile tugged at my lips.

“Goddess Astia,” I said, turning to look at the voice.

The goddess had been like a guardian to me since I was a baby, keeping the darkness at bay, or trying to, at least.

Astia sat on a lounge couch with a martini glass in hand. She smiled, her lips curling at the corners, her inky eyes twinkling with curiosity. Leaning forward, the folds of her dress tightened around her thick waist.

“My child, do you know why I have called you here?” she asked, voice smooth as silk.

I shook my head.

“You have finally met your mate.”

My eyebrows furrowed. I remembered seeing a handsome man with muscles taut from experienced training on the battlefield, and a carved face like a god that matched his glowing golden eyes. He had been perfect, even though he stared at me like I were to be feared.

“And do you know what that means?” she continued, taking a sip from her martini.

Again, I shook my head.

Astia’s smile faltered, but quickly reasserted itself back into place. “You must protect him. He’s one of my children, a wolf with no home while under your care.”

“Does that mean that I have to…?”

Astia tilted her head. “Whatever do you mean, child?”

The thought of a wolf living with me made me fear the worst plausible scenario. Father hated me already, and giving him ammo to attack me with… This was an impossible situation. Father would surely want to kill my mate before I even reacted.

“I’m sorry, Astia. He’s in danger with me around,” I said.

“Dear, whatever it is you fear, face it. I’m sure your father won’t want to cause harm to his child.”

Rolling my eyes, I looked to a stack of cushions in front of a bookcase lined with books, trinkets, and a variety of other things. I slipped out of bed and walked across the floor until I reached the bookcase. It looked just like the one at home, except for the small golden wolf figurine next to a red sketchbook. I picked up the figurine. It was heavy, made of solid gold.

“Father wants all wolves exterminated. Making my mate a maspet is like putting a target on his back. Perhaps I should have—”

“Nonsense,” Astia spoke. She glided over me, delicately touching the smooth metal with a manicured hand. “Your fates were destined to intertwine. Now, do not fear where you’ll go next.”

Her words startled me. I turned to face her, but her hand moved from the figurine to my face, and I felt a calm wave of serenity wash over me. My fingers loosened around the figurine, and it dropped from my hand, clattering to the floor. Swaying for a moment, I felt Astia’s arms wrap around me as she whispered something to me I could not hear.

~***~

The warm crackle of a fire stirred my attention. Again, I opened my eyes to see I was lying down on something soft. My eyes noticed the black dome ceiling of my bedroom with the mural of the night sky. Quartz pillars lined the room with golden accents. The fireplace was lit, and Anton sat in one of the lounge chairs near it, reading a book. The soft light of the fire looked like sunlight dancing through the branches of a forest.

I sat up, a yelp leaving me. Hot stings of pain shot through my side and up my torso, reminding me of the wound on my side.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement. A shape leaped out of the chair, the legs scraping against the hardwood floor. I turned my head to see the face of my mate looking at me, fear in his eyes. The chains were gone from around his wrists, and his bare chest had a teal tunic with a brown sash tied around the waist.

He was even more beautiful now, the light of the fireplace casting warm orange hues across his honey-kissed skin. The glow of his eyes was striking, casting a hint of terror.

“Sit down, mutt,” Anton snapped.

I tore my gaze away from my mate and looked at Anton, who had his sabre drawn and book closed in his other hand, sapphire eyes narrowed.

My mate growled. The deep reverberation sent shivers down my spine. I breathed in, the thought of kissing him running through my mind. He was perfect. And he was all mine for the taking.

“Anton,” I said, voice raspy, “what is going on?”

“Your Highness.” His tone changed in an instant, attention never diverting from my mate. “Your brother told me that the wolf could help with your healing. I was forced to let him stay here, but only under supervision.”

“That’s why-” I returned my gaze to my mate, whose canines were bared while he glared at Anton. My hand moved to clasp around my wolf’s hand, which had its claws digging into the fabric of the bed.

The wolf jumped, looking at me with a sharp snarl.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

Silence echoed. Anton moved to the bedside, the sword raised to the wolf’s throat. A crackle of lightning trickled down the blade. In a single movement, my hand shot to the blade, black flames circling my skin, and the blade ignited with hellfire. Anton released the sabre, dropping it to the floor with a clatter.

A moment passed.

The wolf plopped down in his seat, shaking at the sight of the flames.

Hissing from stretching out the wound, I slumped against the pillows. The wolf brought his eyes to meet mine.

“What are you?” he asked, voice trembling.

“I’m a dragonthorn,” I gasped between breaths. Raising a hand above my head, I enveloped it with the dark flames again. “This is hellfire. Everything it touches, it burns. Except for me. Now, please tell me your name.”

The wolf stared at the flames. “Dios.”

“Hm, Dios,” I mused, sounding the name with my tongue. With a shake of my head, I looked at him and let a smile touch my lips. “Nope. It doesn’t fit you.”

The wolf, Dios, had a flicker of guilt cross his features before burying it. He crossed his arms over his chest.

“Your Highness, don’t flirt with the dog!” Anton warned.

I frowned. “And why not? He’s my mate, is he not?”

Anton rubbed his palm, where the flames had licked at him. A softness filled his gaze, like he knew something I hadn’t. “His Majesty has announced your engagement to Lady Morgana, with marriage by year’s end. Also, your boyfriend wants to see you.”