NOX, page 10
part #3 of The Royal Protector Academy Series
“That is not deceit; that is love in the form of protection. I doubt too many would object to that form of deception.”
“Unless you are one of the two hearts forced to be bound together for eternity.” Nox turns to me, to meet his towering gaze. “Perhaps you need another example, such as the same archangel making a deal with the demon lord Asmodeus, promising him an innocent child in exchange for the life of his own blood, all the while threatening a mother with her secrets if she didn’t agree to a protection bonding. At least Queen Ophelia had the good sense to go to the deities—to Helios—for guidance and help.”
I remain silent.
His recounting of what happened is all true.
Nox steps in front of me, looking around. “Deception in the name of love, or protection, does not deserve justification. Yet, all beings do it. The gargoyle race carelessly places its trust in the divine, while turning a blind eye to the other, darker, fragment of its bloodline.”
There is nothing light or pleasant in the way his words come out. In fact, his expression is razor sharp, almost accusatory. The statement hangs in the air between us for a moment before his eyes align with mine.
I lift my chin. “The divine created gargoyles to protect mankind against evil,” I point out. “Our protection spirit is tethered to the dragon. Our bloodline is divine at its core.”
Nox eyes me, considering my words. “The dragon was sent by the dark army to attack a man of God. It was Lucifer’s way of setting off another war, which means the dragon carried darkness in its veins and soul when it tethered itself to the divine soul. The dark-souled dragon is a symbol which your clan proudly wears and worships. Is it not?”
“You’re twisting our history to serve whatever purpose or point it is you seek to make,” I bite out, annoyed.
“Do you know why gargoyles do not carry a soul?”
I hold my breath.
“If you did, it would be dark because of the dragon. And that Celtic tattoo that you so adorably rub for strength is the angelic army’s way of keeping you protected, so the darkness doesn’t take over your bloodline,” his tone sharp.
Tristan’s gaze finds mine again. I know he heard what Nox said. Tristan’s satyr bloodline grants him a soul, a divine one. One of light. Whereas mine would be dark.
Holding Tristan’s eyes, I whisper. “Why are we here?”
The question is meant for Tristan, but asked of Nox.
“Your satyr prince commissioned a favor,” Nox states.
“Which is?” I query, my focus remains on Tristan.
The book he was reading is now forgotten, closed and placed beside him. He focuses his attention on the demigod and me with an expression that is full of annoyance.
“To extinguish Asmodeus and Kupuva.”
“And the Diablo Fairies?”
“They will be reborn as soldiers in my Noctis army.”
“What was the cost for this contracted favor?”
Tristan stands and takes a measured step toward me, at the same time his features turn thunderous. He shakes his head at me, letting me know he doesn’t want me to push. At his heated reaction, my stomach roils and my heart pounds.
“There is divinity in the satyr’s lineage. But it is you who fights as if the blood of the golden gates runs through your veins. I don’t blame you, princess. I blame the upper world for brainwashing you into believing that your race is more important than it is. Yet, you do serve a purpose.”
My eyes snap to Nox. “Which is?”
“Your existence is worth more to him than his realm.”
“What is it exactly that Tristan promised you in exchange for Asmodeus and Kupuva?” I question, angrily.
“A divine soul, gifting me the earth’s vitalities.”
My lips part as realization falls across me. All the blood rushes to my ears as I watch Tristan take his last furious strides toward us, his jaw tight as he approaches us.
“Ereshkigal, the goddess of the earth, was cursed for her loyalty to Lucifer in the war. Sent to rule over the underworld. Banished from the upper layers of earth. Never to feel the sun’s warmth, or inhale the fresh air after a spring rain again. When you take away a goddess’s ruled elements, you essentially kill the deity’s spirit and reason for existence. Her very soul. My mother is dying a slow, torturous death simply because she once loved another.”
“The woodland and water realms are ruled by the supernatural courts. Even if Tristan gifted them to you, a dark-souled demigod could not reign them,” I point out.
Nox leans toward me, lowering his voice. “A dark-souled demigod will not reign. A dark-souled satyr prince will.”
My breath hitches as I stare into his empty eyes.
“I do what I must, to defend Kur. I was born into my dark reign. It is my fate. The darkness is what feeds my existence. Ereshkigal was born of the earth. In order to survive, she must return to it. So, yes, I will take the supernatural court’s precious realms and grant you your freedom with my sword. In exchange, Tristan will give my mother his soul, freeing her and returning her to the earth.”
“ENOUGH!” Tristan roars. “Our agreement is sealed.”
I storm to him and push at his chest in anger. “You promised him your soul? The woodland and water realms?”
Tristan narrows his eyes at me, not backing down. He pushes into my space. “Your existence is more important to me than either my realm or divinity.”
“Tristan, you can’t do this.”
“It’s done,” his tone is final.
All the breath leaves me as I search Tristan’s eyes.
Nox walks away from us. “You see, princess, the gargoyle race can’t protect humans against darkness or evil,” his voice is steady. “Because evil doesn’t play fair.”
Within seconds, Nox disappears into thin air.
“It’s okay,” Tristan tries to calm me, whispering.
“You’re a satyr prince. Your lifeblood runs through the realm you reign over and vice versa. You’ve signed away your soul. Without the realm, your soul ceases to exist.”
“Which is exactly why I did it.”
Tristan
The door slams loudly behind Zander as I slump into the leather couch across from the fireplace. Since we arrived in Kur, I am in a constant state of exhaustion from the endless arguing that seems to be Serena’s and my only interaction. She’s infuriated with me and what I’ve done.
Every time she looks at me, she seethes with silent anger and frustration. It’s merited, given she doesn’t know everything yet. Right now, I’m thankful for the momentary reprieve from her fear and anger caused by her lack of understanding. I stretch my neck from side to side. It cracks with the effort. My muscles protest the movement.
For a brief, fleeting moment, I glance at the fire and contemplate throwing myself into it. But even that feels like it would take too much effort at the moment.
“Listen,” Zander says in a quiet voice from behind me. “I haven’t been in a relationship, like, ever, but I can tell you this: if Magali found out that I made a deal with someone behind her back, she would cut my manhood off. Which, being a satyr and all, would be a huge fucking problem. Since your junk is still intact, I’d say Serena isn’t half as pissed at you as you think. So stop brooding.”
“What are you doing in here?” I growl as he takes a seat next to me. The cushion moans under his weight.
Zander chuckles. “I thought you might need someone to point out how much you’ve fucked this all up.”
“Pretty sure I’ve figured that out for myself.”
We both sit quietly, watching the flames dance. After a long silence, Zander sighs and breaks through the quiet.
“What’s the end game here, Tristan? We’ve always had one, but lately, your end games aren’t something you share with me.” His tone is severe, his eyes clouded with gravity.
I remain silent.
“There is an end game to this plan of yours?”
“What if there isn’t?” I reply with lackluster defiance.
Zander glances over at me, muttering a curse.
“I’ve got this,” I attempt to soothe him.
“Chosen or cursed, however you look at it, as prince of the realm, your lifeblood runs through it. Are you really going to embrace the throne and hand over both realms to a dark-souled deity?” He clenches his teeth. “Do you think Queen Ophelia is going to allow this transaction? Without a fight? A war? Don’t we have enough shit to deal with?”
I meet his eyes. “It is the only way.”
Zander releases a dry laugh. “I hate to tell you this, but our realm will not bow as easily as you assume.”
“I never assumed it would.”
“You assume your plan will work. Like an ass.”
Swallowing down my arguments, I shift on the couch.
This is the only way.
I have to believe the end will justify the means, otherwise what is about to come will destroy me. I can’t allow myself to fear what is right, to ease those I love.
“There is an end game,” I state.
“Then fucking share what it is with me so I know who, or what, it is we are fighting here,” Zander demands.
My gaze refocuses on the fire. “You don’t need to know who we are fighting. Just who we are protecting.”
“Right,” he snips. “Of course not. Why tell the being in charge of your army about your war strategy? That is just stupid. He’s charming and smart. Let him figure it out for himself,” he mumbles under his breath, referring to himself.
I ignore his rant. “You’re not always charming.”
Zander narrows his eyes at me. “Don’t be jealous.” He faces the fire, watching it. “Life has been one big-ass tragedy lately. I miss when things were simpler. When you were grooming for the throne and I was bedding hot nymphs.”
“I don’t know if you’ve heard, but the last time I was in line for the throne, things didn’t turn out so well for the future of the monarchy. Besides, those days are long gone.”
“What a fucking mess,” he growls.
Silently, I take in his words. Mess doesn’t even begin to describe what is happening in our world. “I want you to train with the Noctis army while we’re here,” I state. “Gain intel.”
The air around us shifts.
Zander leans forward, placing his elbows on his knees as he shoots daggers into the blazing flames dancing in front of us. “Is that why I am here? As an infiltrator?”
I nod. “We’ve been approaching this upcoming battle wrong. No one is interested in a united supernatural world. The Lion Guard and the protectors need to be retrained how to survive, not just fight. It won’t be long before the dark army attacks again. Being in Kur with an army made up of deities is an opportunity to for us to prepare, given that most likely agreements will not be reached between the realms.”
“If you want me to train with the deities, I’ll train.”
“Learn from them. Absorb everything you can.”
The door opens and we both twist to face Serena. She pauses in the doorway, looking at both of us with guarded eyes. They flash with annoyance, trying to figure us out before she steps into the room and the door closes quietly.
“Champ,” Zander greets her happily as she approaches us, stepping between where we are sitting and the fireplace.
“Zander, I thought you were coming to see me?” Her eyes flicker to me for a brief second before focusing on him.
“I came to your room to find you, but you weren’t there.”
“I see.” She crosses her arms, her expression hard. “Well, I’m glad you’re here then, with Tristan,” she adds.
“And why is that exactly?” Zander smirks, sitting back, placing his hands behind his head, and watching her closely.
“Since Tristan seems to only listen to you, you can be the one to convince him of how dumb this plan of his is,” she huffs, glancing at me from the corner of her eye. “Go on.”
“Serena . . . ,” he trails off.
“Tell him he is being completely impossible about all of this, Zander. That his promise to Nox is asinine and not necessary. Convince him,” she implores with urgency.
“Stop talking about me like I’m not here. And stop acting like a petulant child who isn’t getting her way,” I snap out at her. “It’s done. I can’t undo it, Serena. And even if I could, I wouldn’t. Now, let’s just fucking move forward.”
Zander quickly jumps off the couch when Serena steps toward me, interjecting himself protectively between us when he sees her enraged at my outburst. “Easy, champ.”
“We control two great armies, each of which will stand and die in the name of protection and sacrifice, for kin and realm,” she admonishes. “Why won’t you believe in what we have at our fingertips? Why must you play the martyr?”
“Could be his huge ego.” Zander’s reply is directed to no one in particular.
“This is not a typical war,” I argue, ignoring my brother.
“Are you not concerned for your kin? Your realms?”
“At the moment, no. I am not interested in preserving the woodland and water realms, princess,” I bite out to goad her. “I am no longer the future heir of either. I am, however, your protector, and therefore concerned with your safety and continued existence. That’s it. The fucking end.”
“Ah shit.” Zander clears his throat and rolls his head around his neck. “All right. I have something to do. Somewhere . . . anywhere else . . . but here to be, listening to the two of you argue. Again. I’m going to leave and pray to the gods, even the dark ones, that you two don’t kill each other,” he sighs. “But for the record, if you two do kill each other, then all our problems are solved. Just saying.” Zander places a light kiss on Serena’s cheek. “Go easy on him, champ,” he whispers before turning to me, placing a hand on my shoulder, and leaning toward my ear. “You okay?” he asks, looking over his shoulder at Serena.
Her eyes are hard and her jaw tight.
“I am not afraid of her or her wrath.” I straighten and clear my throat because truth be told, I am a little scared of Serena when she is livid like this. Just the tiniest amount.
Zander stares at me for a moment longer, nods his head, and pats my shoulder before walking toward the door, his voice trailing him. “You’d better beg for mercy, Trist.”
Serena
TRISTAN STANDS AND MOVES TOWARD ME, stopping inches from my face, his hands fisted at his sides and his eyes narrow slits of challenge. He doesn’t apologize or explain himself as he stares me down, refusing to go back on his agreement with Nox. I realize in this moment that he isn’t going to change his mind. Instead, I will have to fight for him. Protect him. At all costs. In order to do that, I’ll need to know everything. Everything he has promised Nox and everything he’s done.
Straightening my spine, I lift my chin and give him a half smirk, trying to appear friendlier. “Tell me the truth.”
His head cocks to the side while he assesses me. “Which one, raindrop? That I love you? That I would die for you?”
I sigh at his dramatics because he isn’t being sincere, he’s just trying to make a point. A very bad one at that.
“That without hesitation, if you told me to, I would take a dagger to myself and bleed out for you?” He watches me.
Nodding my head, I hold his gaze. “It’s nice to know that if I get pissed off at you again, I have dagger options.”
“What can I say, I like to live on the edge,” he mutters.
I lean toward him. “Just so we’re on the same page, as I understand things, you’ve renounced the throne. Washed your hands of the woodland and the water realms in order to be my royal guard? And as my royal protector, you have bartered your divine soul to a dark-souled deity in exchange for my safety and existence. Have I forgotten anything?”
He offers me a smile that makes my knees weak. “Sounds correct. Like it or not, I am focused solely on your survival.”
“It’s like you have a death wish,” I whisper.
“I did,” he replies. “Now, I have a life wish.”
“Your actions say differently,” I point out.
“You have to learn to trust in me.”
I stare into his eyes, wondering if it’s pride, or just loyalty in general, that is the reason he’s trying so hard to keep me safe. Fear crawls up my throat because one day, I’m afraid he’ll discover that I’m more trouble than I am worth.
“Serena?” His smooth voice interrupts my thoughts.
I swallow as tension swirls around us. Tristan’s presence is impossible to ignore, even when he isn’t speaking. I shift, hoping it will hide my fear and worry.
“Give me an absolute reason to trust you,” I challenge.
Tristan shuts his mouth and clenches his jaw. Then his expression changes, turning peaceful and resolved as his eyes soften. He closes the space between us, cupping my face in his palms. On a deep exhale, he closes his eyes and drops his forehead to mine. My anger extinguishes at the change.
Without opening his eyes, he whispers, “Take my last name.” The minute the words leave his mouth, I freeze.
The immediate silence surrounding us is deafening.
“What?”
“You asked for an absolute reason to believe and trust in me.” His eyes flutter open. “What if . . . I changed your last name to mine? What’s more absolute than a forever with me? An entire existence. You and me. As one.”
The roller coaster of emotions I’ve been experiencing over the last few weeks finally wears me down. Gripping Tristan’s wrists, I sink to my knees, taking him with me.
“Are you . . .” I trail off, swallowing. “Proposing?”
His breath catches and I clutch him, needing his nearness. Ten seconds ago, I wanted to kill him. Now . . .
Tristan sits back on his heels, pulling me so that I am sitting on his lap, my knees on either side of him. The room is silent around us, except for our breathing and the crackling fire behind me. Even so, I barely hear him when he says, “Yes. I’m asking you to be mine. Forever, Serena.”
