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The Miserable Princess

A Demon Fairy Tale

Cont’d…

Sarah could hear the collective whisper that shifted like a wave throughout the viewing stands as the Enforcer came to stand before her. She looked up, feeling small and vulnerable in the wake of his tall, imposing figure. He was crafted out of muscle and sinew as a sculpture was shaped from marble. The calluses on his hands were visible, as was the scar that ran down the side of his left temple. Sarah’s father had told her that he had been stabbed there once, with an iron blade. When she thought of how that must have felt, the metal that was so deadly to Demons burning like acid through skin and bone, she wondered how his sight in his left eye had been preserved. He was lucky that all he had suffered was a scar.

“Good evening, Sarah,” he greeted her, his deep voice surprisingly soft.

“Enforcer,” she said in return, nodding in her very best royal manner.

“Ariel,” he corrected, an amused grin playing over his lips and sparkling in his eyes.

Sarah shrugged, telling him it did not matter to her one way or another.

“So be it,” Ariel said softly. “I thought you should know that I intend to win this competition, and I will demand you for my prize.”

Sarah gasped in shock and flushed with outrage.

“How dare you speak to me this way!”

“Adjust, Kikilia,” he said with determined ease, “for soon you will be in my house, tending my hearth, and you will no longer be a Princess.”

“I would rather be dipped in boiling oil than become mate to the Enforcer,” she retorted, the acid in her voice meant to burn viciously. She thought he had incredible nerve to even think such a thing. No self-respecting Princess would give up her father’s house and her title to live with the stigma of being the wife of the man who humiliated and punished his own kind. Granted, somebody had to do it, and her father respected him very much, but she was not about to become the wife of one such as he, no matter what he said to the contrary.

Ariel chuckled at her reply, but she did not understand what was so funny.

“Do you wish to give me a favor, my lady? Then all will know of your regard for me as I wear it onto the battlefield,” he said.

She gasped, horrified at his sheer gall.

“Never!”

“Very well. It will not matter one way or another. Before dawn, you will belong to me.”

Ariel reached out to her quickly, taking the liberty of stroking her fair hair and purposely running a finger down the length of neck hidden beneath it. She huffed, but not entirely in outrage. His touch burst like fire over her skin, soon moving to burn through her entire body. As he turned and walked away, Sarah was left numb and speechless with the riot of sensation and reaction that rushed through her body. Skin and breath, heart and blood, all of it. All of it. It was as if a brilliant candle had been lit inside her and, given another moment, would send yellow bursts of light out of every pore of her skin.

Sarah suddenly understood what raw panic and terror truly were. As a Princess, she had never needed to be afraid of anything. She had lived a very protected life and had always been safe from even the most rudimentary of fears.

Now, however, she was learning a rapid lesson in all those frightening emotions. The Enforcer had touched her, and now her entire body was raging with trapped light and sizzling energy. There was one and only one condition capable of moving such a violent emotional reaction through a body with no apparent cause or reason.

The Imprinting.

It meant that she was destined to be exactly what he wanted her to be. His mate. His partner throughout all the centuries of her life.

And there was nothing she could ever do to change it.

Except one thing. She could not deny him her body, nor the need she would have ever after to live close to him, but she did have the power within her to reject him in her heart. She could choose to refuse him even the smallest amount of love. If she denied him that, he would not truly conquer her.

Sarah’s heart began to pound at the possibilities of defying one so powerful and deadly. That was when she decided that she should at least try to run away. Hiding could not hurt. So what if he was the best tracker amongst them, the ability the divine right of all Enforcers? She was a Demon of the Body. She had quite a few tricks at her disposal as well.

She would trick him first, and then she would run and hide. Nothing was going to make her do this terrible thing. No one was going to make her love so unlovable a male.

Syreena stood in the empty window casement, her slim hands braced on the cold, flat stone. The Romanian early winter breeze swept over the jagged mountain and chilled lakes before churning harshly up the walls of the towering edifice that had come to be her home, reaching her exposed position at last. The biting chill and powerful press of it blasted through the casement and into her body, snapping the heavy satin of her loose gown back until it was plastered against her like a white, shining skin, the excess fabric whipping behind her body as if it were a standard of truce.

When a man’s hand slid into the curve of her waist, the contrary warmth of it gave her goose bumps that flushed up her belly and breasts. She turned to look down at him with a smile that was full of delight and mischief. She reached down with a stone-cold hand to stroke her fingers across his face.

Then she leapt out of the window.

Damien, Prince of the Vampires and husband to the high-diving woman, stepped up into the window she had abandoned and quickly leaned over to watch what would become of his wife.

She laid her arms back along her body as she rushed headlong toward the jagged rocks at the base of his family holdings. Her loose gown whipped and billowed, the fabric sheeting back until it slipped entirely free of her lithe body, buffeting into a swatch of swirling white as it continued on to the stones below.

Syreena, however, would not be joining it. In a flash, she went from the form of a beautiful human woman to the swift dip and reel of a small peregrine falcon. She did this just in time to avoid the sharp rocks below. And though she was famous for her “on the fly” Lycanthropy, she still had the power to take her husband’s breath away with the trick, after making him hold it in a fearful moment of doubt. It wasn’t that Damien doubted the skills of his clearly talented wife. She was the most skillful Lycanthrope alive. It was because he still had moments where he imagined he couldn’t be so lucky as to be the first and only Vampire in his society for eons to know what true and lasting love really was. He was the only Vampire alive who was married, and to an outsider no less. He had broken a great deal of ground, and more than one long-standing law, in order to take her as his bride.

That had been a little over nine months ago, and a great deal had happened since they had gone public with their relationship. The results had been mixed. Some good, some bad. It was the bad things that drove his wife to jump out of windows in the highest towers of the castle.

He didn’t have to tax himself to figure out what had happened that had her turning to her ability to fly as the falcon for release and escape. He was Prince of the coldest, most troublemaking race of Nightwalkers alive. And while their respect, civility, and Vampire law kept them in line for the most part, Damien’s marriage to Syreena had given a few of the more unruly members of his society an excuse to start trouble. This trouble had taken all kinds of forms, but it was the most recent that had gotten under Syreena’s skin.

Damien watched as she reeled toward the lake, flying like a quick brown and black kite, lofting from one shelf of air to another with a skill that always impressed him. The Vampire wasn’t as assured of his shape-changing abilities as his wife was. He changed and became a large, glossy black raven while still safely seated on the windowsill. He’d only had the ability to become the raven for the last year. While he had flown all of his life in the shape of a man, a skill every Vampire had after a certain age, it wasn’t until he had fed off his bride that he was able to become the raven. Now, as he flew after her, it was clear what the months since then had done for his skill. Still, he preferred to be cautious as he practiced. It would be silly to end a millennium-long lifetime with an awkward splat on the rocks below. It would be a rather ignominious end to the longest-reigning and most powerful Prince in Vampire history.

Damien chased down his wife with determination. She had given herself away, and he was fixated on hearing her troubled thoughts. Before she had wed him, she had been a Princess in her own right, heir to the Lycanthrope throne and counselor to the current Queen, her sister Siena. So she was no stranger to political machinations and the sometimes undesirable results that churned forth from them. But that didn’t make it any easier for her to bear them. Not when they touched her so personally.

Syreena was diving toward the glassy surface of one of the mountain lakes. That was when Damien knew she was aware of him following her. She would make her next change on purpose, knowing full well how much he hated the bracing cold of winter water. That, more than the breakneck dive of earlier, could be successful at dissuading him from following.

She morphed from bird to dolphin about five feet above the water as she dove toward it. She cut the water cleanly, only a ripple from the break of her tail fins giving away her entrance point. Damien didn’t follow. He lighted on a rock and changed back to his masculine form, crossing his long legs casually and resting a hand on his thigh as he waited for her to surface.

It wasn’t that he couldn’t swim. It was just that a Vampire’s body temperature remained warm only as long as the blood from his last feed remained so. He had no circulation to speak of, so he steadily lost heat over time, becoming colder to the touch the further he got from his last feeding. If he followed his wife into the water, it would suck the heat out of him in an instant, and he wouldn’t be allowed to so much as touch her or kiss her until he fed again and warmed his icy flesh. A delay like that would impede his desire to comfort her when she finally stopped her torrid escape.

The subject of his thoughts surfaced in the middle of the lake, this time in the shape of herself. At least above the water. Below, he had no doubt that she resembled a mermaid instead of a human, with a fin, not legs, keeping her buoyant. In all this changing, there was only one form she hadn’t taken as yet that was available in her repertoire: the winged woman she liked to call the harpy. This gave her a total of five forms, two more than a normal Lycanthrope. She was a mutation, a unique creature amongst her people. Amongst all Nightwalkers. But extra forms or not, Damien would have known that anyway.

At last, Syreena began to swim toward him.

The decision now made to go to him, she did so with all speed, the strong fin below the water propelling her swiftly. She made the transition from water to land as smoothly as she had made all her others, tossing back her dark hair as it dripped sparkling water into the air around her. He uncrossed his legs, opening his arms to her, and she slid into his embrace as she knelt before the rock that made up his makeshift seat.

Damien sighed in tandem with her as she accepted his strong comfort. He placed a gentle line of kisses across her forehead and down to her ear, where he spoke softly to her. “If it will make you feel better, I can send Jasmine to Noah instead of going myself.”

She released a breath that gave her away, reflecting how much she would prefer that. “But you said, as a matter of protocol and respect, you should bring this bad news to him yourself. And I hate to say so, but I agree it might be the better choice. Jasmine can be—well, she’s your counselor, not one of your diplomats. Even she would agree there is a good reason for that.”

Damien chuckled at the politely worded assessment of Jasmine’s frequently volatile temperament. “True, but through everything she has been perfectly loyal to me. She would never upset my carefully cultivated relations with Noah and the Demon people. She knows how important peace among the Nightwalker clans is going to be for everyone’s future.” He paused thoughtfully for a moment. “Come to think of it, Jasmine could also stay there until some of this is resolved. Between her and Horatio, they would be best able to sense a threat of this nature.”

“Mmm, and he is her brother. They should have a chance to visit.”

“And I get to stay here with you.”

“Now, that is definitely a bonus,” she laughed. “Of course, Jasmine being hundreds of miles away skulking in someone else’s hallways is a special benefit.”

“You are very naughty,” he scolded. “I would think you two would have resolved your issues by now. It has been almost a year.”

“Yes, well…” She smiled briefly before she leaned in to kiss him, taking his flavor onto her tongue hungrily for a long moment before releasing him and licking her damp lips. His hands slid over her chilled back, her bare skin cool but still somehow warmer than his in some places.

“It is settled, then,” he murmured softly against her mouth as he readied to kiss her once again. “Jasmine will go in my stead to warn Noah. We will stay here with Stephan and try to resolve the situation on our end. Perhaps all of this will be over quickly and come to nothing. Meanwhile, I will be home with my wife, keeping her warm and comfortable, and…”

“And taking advantage of her heat cycle so we can try to get pregnant,” she finished for him with relief. “Damien, I have waited so long to begin a family. If you left during my heat, I don’t think I could bear the loneliness and knowing that every day you are gone will be an opportunity wasted. We have talked of nothing else for the past three months, ever since we decided we were ready for it…and that it would be the best thing we could do to bring our disparate backgrounds together. Perhaps, if you have an heir with me, the Vampires will stop all this infighting and will finally begin to accept the choice you made in me.”

“Sweetheart, we have talked about this,” he scolded her gently, running a broad, graceful hand down the length of her wet hair. “We will do this for us, and for us alone. As with our wedding, it is their duty to adapt to us. Those who do not adapt, those who think to fight me—let them come if they dare.”

“Damien,” she breathed nervously, sweeping her fingers into his hair and holding him in place for her mouth and its desperate kiss.

He knew her fears too well for words. Even without his telepathy, he had come to know her nearly better than he knew himself. She was more emotional than she normally would be, more fearful as her mating cycle rapidly approached and more of their impending future was put up for scrutiny.

Syreena had two mating cycles every year. Spring and fall, close to the full moon at Beltane and the one at Samhain. These short weeks every year were the only time she could conceive, no matter how frequently they made love at any other time. Last spring had been an experience unlike anything Damien had encountered in his long lifetime of dealing with women. She had been aggressive and insatiable. She had taunted him and teased him and used him to exhaustion almost every minute of the day from the beginning to the end of the cycle.

They hadn’t truly decided whether or not they were ready for children before last spring’s cycle had struck her, but once it had hit, they hadn’t even been able to make an effort at caution or control.

In spite of their recklessness, however, Syreena hadn’t conceived.

She had been devastated. It should have been impossible for her to fail to conceive. She’d never heard of a heat cycle not producing a child automatically, in the absence of actions or chemistry to prevent it. So her automatic assumptions began to fall into two categories: first, that something was wrong with her; second, and perhaps the worst of all, that a Vampire and a Lycanthrope couldn’t conceive a child. Though there were hints in ancient writings that it was possible, there was no known written or living proof of it. Still, it was illogical for her to blame herself. The Vampire conception rate was notoriously low to begin with.

Regardless, if he was forced to leave her alone for the next cycle in order to take care of business at the Demon court, she would suffer a great deal, and very likely would be impossible to live with. If he thought the atmosphere in his home was hostile now…after three weeks with Syreena on a hormonal bender, in amongst a gathering of Vampires who disapproved of her to start with, there would be a lot of ramifications to deal with.

Neither could they leave together. Stephan and Jasmine could capably protect their holdings, but with the current civil unrest, it would be unwise for both of them to leave the homeland castle unattended. The more he thought on it, the more sending Jasmine seemed like the best solution for everyone. Of course, it would no doubt look like Damien was catering to his bride, an act that many of his species would look on as a weakness.

But Damien didn’t care about appearances in this particular situation. He could never leave Syreena to cope with such a painful struggle when his mere presence could prevent it. Apparently she didn’t realize that, or else she wouldn’t have climbed the tower after hearing him discuss traveling to Noah’s court. He would maintain patience, however. She was learning, just as he was, and it did no good for either of them to lose their tolerance for the other’s misunderstandings.

For the present, she was catching a good case of the shivers and would be better off inside the citadel walls. He swept her up into his embrace easily just as his feet lifted from the ground. He flew them up to the very same window she had dived from earlier, leading her inside so she could warm up and rest with him as the dawn made its imminent approach.

When the Demon King entered the Council chamber a short time later, a hush fell over the Elders gathered about the triangular table. Noah stood for a moment, assessing the energy of the room. Gossip among Demons, he noted, was one of the fastest-flying creatures in all the world. He had no doubt that everyone around him was at least partially aware of what had so recently transpired.

He didn’t hold still long, determined not to be read as reluctant to face his peers. He moved to the large chair at one of the three points of the table that marked its highest-ranking members. The other two points were occupied by his sister’s husband, Gideon, who was the only Ancient of their kind, and Jacob, the Enforcer, who reached to cover the small hand of his wife seated next to him.

“I have called this Council meeting with one purpose only,” he said directly, his deep voice filling the stone room and ringing back to him from the vaulted ceiling. “It is time we altered Demon law, Councillors, to suit the vast changes our society has undergone since the first Druid was discovered and accepted into our culture.” He did not look at Isabella as he referred to her, the act too hard for him in that glaring moment. He would face that reckoning later, when there were not so many witnesses. “I have watched the centuries fall by just as many of you have, and we all know too well the price we pay every Samhain and Beltane because it is stamped on our genes that it be so.

“I have glorified myself in the past as a scholar dedicated to finding a solution to the cruel pressures we endure during those Hallowed moons.” Noah paused to lay a hand on the smooth wooden surface of the Council table, leaning forward so he could meet all the attention focused on him. “Many of us have cried out with suffrage, cried foul when the Enforcer put us to the screws, and simply cried because sometimes the agony is just too much for a soul to bear.” The Demon King straightened as the slap of his hand on the table resounded in the room.

“I tell you now I feel nothing but shame toward myself, toward us all, for enjoying the role of the victim too well. We have had three years in which to initiate changes and have barely made efforts to do so. If you think it is my recent transgression that makes me say this, you would be right. But even before that incident, the Druid Corrine had begun to open my eyes to our indolence.

“It comes to this: We have the means to put an end to this tragedy, and I am determined to make it the law to do so. As it stands now, the Enforcers are a necessary evil and they are vilified for representing the possibility of what we might become. That begins to end this very moment.” Noah heard Isabella make a surprised sound, the squeak catching in her throat, and his mouth turned up at one corner as he looked directly at her. “The law is as I speak it now. Every unmated member of Demon society who is of Elder age will utilize Corrine’s skills to find the Druid mate that is to be Imprinted upon them. Only this will cure our culture of its madness, and so it will be done. In the future I will expand the law to include adults. Of course, all are free to do so at any time or age if they wish it. The only reason I do not make it universally mandatory is because I do not wish to overtax our Druid, who will hereby be referred to as our Matchmaker. It takes much effort, I realize now, to be a living divining rod.”

He paused to take a slow, calming breath.

“I once said that Isabella would be the first note in the call to save us from ourselves. I realize now that, as she is the note, her sister is the symphony. It is the responsibility of every member of this Council to set an example by being among the first to approach the Matchmaker in this matter.”

The silence broke at last, nearly the entire table erupting in protest both large and small.

“Noah, you cannot do this,” the Body Demon Peter protested, his chair scraping back loudly as he jumped up. “You have no right to command us to do something that should be a personal freedom for every living creature in the world. No intellectual being should be forced to find a mate!”

“Every being is forced to find a mate,” Noah countered sharply, the bite of his retort like a slap in the face. “You have never crossed that maddening line, Peter, so you do not know what I mean. Let me assure you that every creature of the world is stamped with the drive to find perfection in companionship. It is encoded in every fiber of our beings. It is because we have taken the unnatural course of solitude that Demons are being forced by nature, by these Hallowed moons and their madness, to follow our internal compass toward our intended partners no matter what the cost.

“Believe me, Peter, you do not want to pay the price I have paid. I walked this world so desensitized to the needs of my soul and my body that I failed my most perfect Destiny and dispatched my mate to her death. I refuse to see that happen to another of us. I am ruler of this race, and I will force this dictate upon you. And as with any law, those who do not obey will face my Enforcers. I will press the matter with severe ramifications that will far outweigh the penalty that already exists. A punishment I must now suffer that will add to a pain that if I could share it—” He broke off, swallowing visibly but refusing to break contact with the dozen pairs of eyes watching him with bated breath. “I could pardon myself from this if I wished, but what kind of leader would I be if I did not expect myself to follow the laws I set down for all others?”

“Noah, no one here expects you to suffer the humiliation of—”

“Please,” the King cut in, his voice hoarse and pained. “Those of you here who call themselves my friends will not tempt me any further on this matter. Jacob and Isabella will see I am justly served for my transgression. To be quite frank, no one deserves the right more than they do. This meeting is adjourned.”

There was no more argument and, mercifully, not even a sound of debate or speculation. Noah turned from the table and crossed back to the door. He halted before going through it to turn slightly back to those behind him.

“Bella, Jacob…you will attend me.”

The King closed his eyes when, after a moment’s pause, he heard the sound of two chairs pushing back across the marble floor. He finally crossed the threshold, refusing himself any urges he had to look back.

“Noah, I beg you to reconsider,” Jacob argued quietly after the last Council member had left them alone in the Great Hall of Noah’s castle.

As he pressed his monarch, Jacob observed his unusually subdued wife out of the corner of his eye, trying to get a bead on her thoughts and feelings. She was shutting him out with exceptional strength, however, shunting him away from their telepathic connection. It was a level of ability he had not realized she had. Even so, it was completely lost on him why she would decide to use it against him in that sensitive and crucial moment. He could have used her input, support, or feedback. Whichever she was willing to offer up.

He continued watching as his wife moved in one direction while Noah moved in the other to stand closer to the fire.

“Jacob, it is your duty to not only uphold the law, but to hold those who break it accountable. I am not an exception to that rule and, as I have already stated, I will not hear argument otherwise.”

“You will hear it,” Jacob said sharply, advancing on his sovereign. “I have been your Enforcer for four centuries, and no one knows better than I how and when to enforce the law. The reprimand you are seeking for yourself is intended to sway future weakness from occurring. It is designed to halt the temptation toward innocents who would fall victim to the potential danger of a Demon out of control. This edict was never meant to reprove those who are striving only to seize their one true mate in life. Especially when taking into consideration that once you do become mated to that person, there is no longer any threat of this insanity overtaking you. By our very own laws and traditions, you have the right to claim what you have claimed. Laws that I helped you draw up, I might add.”

“No one has the right to do so in a way that endangers the innocents around them,” Noah bit back.

“Then consider Kestra if you will not consider yourself,” Jacob said grimly, his voice echoing in the stone room. “If you undergo standard procedures, you will be left physically and emotionally devastated. To penalize yourself would mean punishing this innocent. She is becoming a Druid now. You know what that means. She will need to feed off your energy. She needs your full strength if she is to survive such a taxing alteration of her genetic code and physical being. None of us knows what this might do to her, to you both, if you persist on this path.”

“No,” Noah murmured. “No. I cannot walk away from this without being answerable for my actions. If not standard punishment, then you must devise something in its stead. I demand your compliance in this, Jacob.”

“Very well.”

Both men looked up when Bella finally spoke, her soft voice—usually so full of her vibrancy and humor—wintry and dead as it fell on them. She had her arms folded tightly around her midriff as she advanced on the Demon King, the bite of her step a warning come too late to her husband.

“I will punish you,” she hissed at the Demon King, her hand suddenly flying at Noah’s face and striking him so hard that the slap reverberated through Jacob’s very bones. He could only imagine how it had felt, knowing how powerful Bella was in spite of her compact appearance. But as Noah recoiled from the surprise of the blow, the male Enforcer knew the psychology behind the strike was what would cut to the quick.

“You are never to go near my child again! Do you understand?” Isabella gritted the dictate through clenched teeth, her full fury and outrage finally, after all these hours, taking aim at their first solid target. It was a brutal, tangible thing. “Never! You will not even look at her! Do you hear me? I trusted you! Trusted you with her life and her safety like I would never have trusted anyone else, and you betrayed me! You betrayed her and used her for a wild experiment that could have—” Bella choked on her emotion, her tears finally spilling as she fought for her voice. “How could you do that? How could you put my baby in such horrific danger? She loves you! I loved you!”

She raised her hand to strike the stunned King again, but her husband caught her by the wrist and halted the forward-flying motion of her body. Noah turned away from them both, reaching out to steady himself against the stone of the fireplace as the Enforcer enfolded his violent wife into the unyielding frame of his body.

“Enough,” Jacob whispered into her black satin hair as he pressed his mouth to the ear hidden beneath. “Enough, my love.”

“It will never be enough,” Bella rasped hoarsely. “I will never forgive you for this, Noah! When I think of all the things that could have gone wrong, it makes me want to scream! I had to stand there and sweet-talk and coddle you while my baby and my sister sat huddled in a corner, beside themselves with terror! You make me sick!”

His mate was screaming so violently by then that it did not surprise Jacob when Gideon’s hand appeared out of nowhere and touched Isabella’s shoulder. The Ancient medic did not give her any opportunity to fight him, even if she could manage her power enough to attempt to drain his abilities. As hysterical as she was with the emotion that only a mother in defense of her child was capable of, she would never have been able to concentrate.

So Gideon sent the chemistry of her body careening out of balance, tricking it into thinking it was desperate for slumber. The sleep command hit her like a ton of bricks and Isabella collapsed against Jacob mid-accusation. Jacob felt Magdelegna brush past him, hurrying to her brother’s side with the ready compassion that was so much a part of her nature.

Noah felt her touch and shrugged her off so hard that she stumbled back several precarious steps.

“Do not comfort me, Legna! Just stay away from me!” he growled savagely. “Leave! All of you. Your duties are finished here.”

Noah finalized the order by snapping into a vicious flurry of flame that burned hard and brilliantly, making them all flinch and protect their eyes.

When their vision cleared, the King was gone.