NOX, page 11
part #3 of The Royal Protector Academy Series
“I am yours.”
“Are you?”
I draw in a ragged breath and search his eyes. I had missed him so much while I was gone, and now that he is with me, I suddenly don’t want to leave him ever again.
“Completely,” I whisper with conviction.
Breathing softly, he almost touches my lips, but pauses right before they meet his. His eyes frantically search mine, looking for anything. “Then take my name. Make it official.”
Nervousness might be a natural response. Even anger that Tristan is doing this at this moment. But I don’t feel either emotion. All I feel is love. Love for this beautifully broken and insane protector in front of me.
“I’m yours. Only yours,” I vow. “Until my last breath.”
Tristan’s eyes close and a hard shudder runs through him. When they reopen, he suddenly looks very nervous. He stares at me, paling. Holding my eyes, he speaks in a low voice. “Serena St. Michael,” he breathes shallow and fast, “I promise to love and protect you, every day of my existence, if you will agree to stand by my side. Will you—”
I don’t even let him attempt to finish. My lips jump at his, brushing across his mouth in a tender, sweet kiss, full of emotion. Everything that I want to say to him, but can’t, is in that kiss.
After a while, I pull back and stare into his eyes as I speak with a shaky voice. “I am so in love with you. I will stand by your side, always,” I manage, and he brings a hand up to stroke my cheek with the back of his fingers.
“So, is that a yes?” he waits.
“YES! I will take your last name. Be yours. Yes,” I reply through the tears flowing down my cheeks.
The expression on his face makes me even weaker in the knees as my heart races. I try to process everything, but the look of hope in his eyes, mingled with dread and anticipation, has me coming back down to reality quickly.
“What’s wrong?”
Tristan winces. “I should have talked to your dad first.”
A small smile plays at my lips at the nervousness in his voice. “How utterly traditional of you, Tristan Gallagher.”
The raw affection for me in his eyes has me holding onto him tighter. He is the one. Without a single doubt.
“And your uncle, since he is the current reigning king.”
“The only acceptance you should be concerned with is mine,” I state, annoyed. “This is the twenty-first century.”
“My intentions are virtuous in nature, raindrop,” he chastises. “We are still of royal bloodlines. There are codes of behavior, formalities to follow when doing this.”
“Right,” I swallow the lump in my throat.
Emotion overtakes me and I close my eyes, giving myself a moment to absorb everything that just happened.
When my lids flutter open, I’m met with Tristan’s warm, loving stare again. And in this instant, he is my entire world. Nothing else even exists to me besides him, regardless of what my clan is going to say, or agree to.
“It doesn’t matter what they say, I am yours.”
Tristan lets out a soft exhale and kisses me deeply, as if we hadn’t kissed in years. The love coming off him is almost too overwhelming, his entire body trembling with it.
His hand shakes as he grabs the hem of my shirt, pulling me even closer to him. I realize he is holding back, forcing himself to go slowly, to remain in control in case I change my mind. Knowing this ignites a fire within me.
I run my hands down his back, feeling every muscle, every defined line under the cotton of his shirt. Tristan groans as I bring my hands around to his chest, placing one palm over his protector tattoo and wrapping the other around the insignia he wears around his neck.
Pulling away from his lips, I tug on his necklace. “You know, you can’t distract me with a proposal. I’m still pissed off at you. And if I’m to be the queen by your side, now, more than ever, you need to include me in strategy.”
“I love you.” His voice is deep, firm.
I stare at his serious expression. “I know.”
“I wouldn’t survive if you didn’t exist.”
“I can only exist if you are by my side.”
“I will be.”
“But what you’ve promised—”
“I. Will. Be.”
His words hit me with such intensity that I stop breathing. Against every fiber shouting from deep within me, I dip my chin and give in, not pushing this anymore.
“Against my better judgment, I’ll let you take the lead on this plan of yours.” I inhale through my nose. “Until I won’t. And when that time comes, out of respect, you will tell me the entire strategy behind your decision. But if we are going to do this . . . be each other’s forever, it’s going to be on a level playing field. I need to be in the know.”
“Understood.”
“You do know that Magali is going to tell my clan of your promise to Nox. They’ll not hesitate to come for us.”
He cocks his head and lowers his voice. “They know.”
Confusion rushes over me. “What?”
“The St. Michaels are aware of my deal with Nox.”
Studying him, I hold my breath. “And they approved?”
“Yes,” he holds my gaze.
I frown at him. Why the hell would my family agree to let him do this? Unless . . . damn them. I clench my jaw.
“Did they coerce you to be leveraged as a scapegoat in order for their heir to continue to exist?” I bite out. “You aren’t just their royal protector, Tristan. You are a prince.”
“Serena,” he tightens his grip on me. “Trust in me.”
I release a girlie growl. “Swear to me that my family didn’t make you do this? That they didn’t con you into this deal with Nox as a form of initiation to be a royal protector.”
“I swear,” he says, his voice sincere.
I run a finger down his cheek. “I don’t know whether to be relieved or pissed off. If they didn’t force you, then you really did stupidly do this on your own,” I exhale my annoyance. “Now what? What are our next steps?”
“The three of us will meet with Nox and discuss what our plan will be for Asmodeus and Kupuva,” he answers.
I look around the room before meeting Tristan’s gaze again. “You know, if we can get to the dark army before they attack, we’ll have a much better chance at stopping whatever it is they’re plotting.” I pause for a brief moment before adding, “That requires us leaving Kur. And soon.”
Tristan’s pierced brow raises. “The dark army is a misguided focus. It’s their leaders we need to attend to. It’s best of we take advantage of Nox’s invitation and remain here in Kur for the time being. Study and train a bit with the Noctis army. Nox invited us to Kur to feel us out. We’ll use our time here to do the same with him and his soldiers.”
“Invited?” I parrot. “More like took us hostage.”
“Rionach taught Zander and I that a leap of faith goes both ways when a mutual end result is desired in an alliance.”
“Do you think Nox would turn on us?”
“Yes. Without hesitation.”
“Well, that was . . .” I pause. “Blunt.”
“Honest,” he counters. “He’s a dark deity with an enormous ego. We need to be prepared, on all fronts. This isn’t just about the peace treaty between Heaven and Hell; it’s also about the deities and their desires to gain control and power over the supernatural and human realms.”
“Gods and demons. What could possibly go wrong?”
“Nothing, if we do it my way,” he watches me.
“And if we don’t?” I challenge.
“Realms will fall. Blood will spill. And you and I—”
“We what?”
“Will cease to exist at all.”
“Morbid.”
“Lucky for us, I have a kick-ass plan.”
“And a huge ego.”
“That too,” he nods. “One that won’t allow of any of that shit to happen under my protection.”
“You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you want to stay here to avoid telling my father about our upcoming nuptials,” I tease. “Are we hiding from my dad?”
Tristan helps me stand, stretching his own legs to full height. “Can you blame me? Your father tried to slip me laxatives when I was in London.”
I give him a suspicious look. “What?”
He crosses his heart. “In oatmeal raisin cookie form.”
My shoulders sag. “He’s insane.”
“No,” Tristan holds my face in his hands. “He just loves and wants to protect you. And who can blame him?”
“In the meantime, it might be best to stop eating his cookies,” I reply, and then wince at the double meaning.
Tristan’s eyes immediately come to life. “Oh, raindrop, it’s not his cookies I’m after,” he banters.
I push at his chest. “You’re still not off the hook with me. However, I will table my concerns and arguments for a bit. So, let’s go learn how to kick some demon and deity ass.”
Tristan places a small kiss on my lips before pulling back and whispering, “Thank you for trusting me to protect the one thing that will destroy me if it ceases to exist. You.”
As I follow him, I stare at his back, ignoring my fight-or-flight reaction to his flowery words. They leave a stale feeling in my gut, because Tristan has forgotten one variable in this protection strategy of his . . . my heart.
What happens to it when it is he who ceases to exist?
Tristan
The three of us stand in front of the open arched windows, staring down into the colosseum where Nox’s soldiers are battling. We study the deity military tactics reminiscent of ancient Greece. Each warrior takes on a specific form within a smaller group to execute all of their fight maneuvers. And each subunit works together as a smaller piece of an overall larger strategic picture of deity power.
Metal clanks as they perform tactics with shields. Each warrior holds their shield with their left hand, to protect not only themselves, but also the being on their left. Their wide formation doubles the depth of coverage. Interesting.
One notable contrast is that most of the deities use spears; very few use swords when in hand-to-hand combat.
Another difference is the demigods do not like to ambush. Instead, they prefer battling with honor, even the dark-souled demigods. Similar to the Diablo Fairies under Kupuva’s leadership. Across the board, honor is everything.
My eyes close for a moment, needing a second to absorb everything going on around me. It doesn’t go unnoticed by me that the Noctis army’s code of ethics is hypocritical, given they all use their demigod powers to leverage their positions and strengths while fighting.
“Tristan looks pissed,” Zander whispers to Serena.
“Why are his eyes closed?” she asks in response.
“Not sure. Is he meditating?”
“How would I know?”
“Don’t you know everything about him? His favorite color? Food? If he has tissues and lotion on his nightstand?”
“Sapphire. Pizza. And there are no tissues or lotion on his nightstand,” she ticks off haughtily.
Zander huffs. “Please. Every male with blood running through his veins has tissues and lotion on his nightstand.”
“He doesn’t,” Serena argues, not understanding.
“Says you,” my brother counters.
I open my eyes and throw them both an annoyed look over my shoulder. “The tissues and lotion are in reference to masturbation, which Zander is the king of. Now, watch and study the drills. I swear, you two are worse than children.”
“Get it now?” Zander bumps his shoulder with hers.
“You’re hilarious,” Serena moans.
“What can I say? I’m special.” Zander flashes her a quick side grin.
“You’re special all right,” she sighs.
I turn back to the training going on below us.
“For the record, if you two didn’t drag me away from Magali, who by the way turned me into this shell of a pathetic nymph, I wouldn’t have to masturbate. She’s fucking ruined me. I can’t even look at another female without wistfully thinking of her,” he pouts. “Ruined.”
“Oh. My. Gods,” Serena giggles. “You wanna marry her. And have babies. And buy a house. Oh, and a Volvo!”
Zander pushes at my shoulder so I meet his gaze again. He throws an is she serious look my way. “Do you hear this?”
“I’m trying not to,” I huff, and focus on the army.
“I never said I wanted to buy a house and Volvo.”
“Do you feel the crazy, obsessive, I will die for you kind of love for her?” Serena questions with a tease in her tone.
Zander falls silent and blows out an exaggerated breath.
“Maybe,” he admits.
Serena squeals and claps her hands in excitement.
“Knock it off,” Zander scolds. “I have a reputation.”
Serena sighs. “Whatever.”
“And for the record, no one said anything about babies.”
“M’kay,” she draws out. “You totally want to have babies with her.”
“Maybe you and Tristan should have babies.”
“No.” Her answer is quick and clipped.
The speed of her reply catches my attention.
“Why not? I’d be an amazing uncle. Uncle Zan.”
I tense as my heart beats wildly in my chest, waiting for her response. I hadn’t meant to propose to her earlier, it just sort of happened. I’d always planned to ask her, just not in that way. Or here. Or without following royal protocols.
Looking back, I’m kicking myself for not doing it right. Asking her father for permission, being romantic. Serena deserves better than what I did. She’s probably second-guessing her answer. Who could blame her at this point?
“We just got engaged. At least . . . I think we did—”
“WHAT THE FUCK?” Zander shouts, interrupting her. “What the hell is she talking about? Why is Serena unsure if she is betrothed to you? Or not? What did you do?”
Turning, I look at both of them. “I asked her to take my name.”
“And?” Zander growls out.
“She said yes. Or at least,” I stumble. “I think she did.”
Zander slides his attention to Serena. “This is like the worst proposal ever. He thinks you said yes. You think he proposed. Did any of this actually happen?”
“Yes,” Serena and I both say at the same time.
“So, you’re . . .” my brother prods.
“Officially engaged.” I finish for him.
“And telling everyone?” Serena asks.
“And telling everyone,” I confirm.
She bites her lower lip. “Except my parents.”
I nod. “And your aunts and uncles.”
“And your mother.”
“Or anyone here in Kur,” I add.
“Oh, and Magali. Not yet.”
“Definitely not Ryker or Ireland,” I continue.
“Or Ethan and Lucas.”
“So, basically, you’re not telling anyone,” Zander points out. He groans loudly. “Great. Another secret betrothal.”
Tova approaches us with a wicked grin. “Zander, we are ready for you to train with us. Starting with me. I’m looking forward to getting you on your back again,” she seduces.
My brother narrows his eyes at me. “Even that doesn’t turn me on. A hot warrior threatening me. RUINED!”
“You’ve got this, man,” I encourage.
He turns to Serena. “Your secret, it doesn’t affect us.”
Her eyes widen. “No?”
“Nope. You’re still my girl, regardless.”
“Good to know,” she smiles at him.
“Now, give me a smooch for good luck,” Zander motions his head to Tova. “I might not make it back from battle.”
With an eye-roll, Serena steps forward, looking as though she is going to wrap her arms around his waist. I hold back a growl when she looks up at him with adoration before wrapping her hands around the handle of his sword.
Slowly, she removes it from its sheath. After taking a step back, she smiles and kisses the handle. Winking, she throws it out one of the open windows. It falls the four stories and lands straight up in the dirt floor of the colosseum. “Go get ‘em, Zander.”
Serena
A SHIVER INCHES ITS WAY DOWN my spine as I watch the strong whirlwind twirl in the desert. The dust from the surrounding land twists in a vertical, upward motion.
“Now that is the devil’s wind,” Nox states from next to me. “With focus, it can grow large enough to pose a threat. As an elemental gargoyle, you need to harness your gifts more. With practice, they can be turned into weapons instead of simply being used as a source of protection.”
I stare at the rotating column of wind. Tristan was right—staying in Kur has helped us learn new tactics and skills. Skills that we would not normally be taught at the Royal Protector Academy, as most are considered darker in nature. Like the small tornado of wind and dust I’ve created.
If I wanted to, I could expand it, increasing its size and intensity, taking down a small army. It’s pretty cool.
“Across realms, the devil’s wind can produce electrical fields. When it swirls, it picks up small particles, which bump and scrape against one another. As that happens, Serena, they become electrically charged, creating a magnetic field,” Nox explains. “Demons and demigods have auras. The magnetic field can deflect and manipulate their auras. You see, elemental gifts are not simply for shifting the wind, or causing the rain. They are great in power when used offensively, instead of defensively, during battle.”
My focus shifts to the vast desert around us. Since our supernatural gifts don’t work in Kur, Nox has been training me outside of the cavern the past few days. It’s hot.
His unconventional approach to my gifts has been eye-opening, to say the least. With a drop of my hands, the wind falls, along with specks of sand, which tumble to the ground.
My gaze slides to Nox. “What is it you really want with Asmodeus? Aside from obtaining the woodland and water realms. Our training isn’t out of the kindness of your heart.”
The demigod eyes me coolly. “I have unfinished business with the demon lord.”
