Leaving the palace always placed me in the firing-line of executioner hate. Yet, I couldn’t lock myself within these walls to live a bland and soul-wrenching life. I needed to venture out into the world, to be active in all aspects of life.
To heal my broken memories.
I paused, the elf’s scent of honey lingering in the air.
Wretched creature. I shouldn’t have played with him. The moment I opened that bathroom door at Majestic Moon, I saw it in him. The murder beneath his shining aura, shadows in his striking, cornflower-blue eyes. He couldn’t hide from me.
But I’d wanted to play with him, the way he shone so intoxicating, so mysterious.
Him killing Layla snapped me out of the folly.
I entered my bed chamber, throwing off my jacket before taking a seat on my bed. Reveling in the comfort of my sanctuary.
“I’m sorry, Layla,” I said, leaning back on my hands. “I failed you.”
Her death chewed on my soul. She’d been so loyal to me, one of a handful of true friends who always offered the best advice and the kindest words. And that elf took her away from me.
At least his friend got to live. Already on his way home under escort, free to live, no repercussions. A deal was a deal. My word was my word.
I’ve been too weak.
Again.
I should’ve killed the mage there and then, yet the sting of betrayal would be worse for the elf as he starved to death amongst the dying flowers. It would be a slow end for his mortal body.
Good. Let the stench of his decaying corpse permeate every corner of this palace. I wanted to smell it, for it to linger as long as possible, to kill the honey aroma. A vile reminder for me to never play with executioners again.
Your stupidity dooms everyone.
Despicable, beautiful elf with a strange weapon.
Had he evolved into something new? Were the remaining executioners changing, using new magic and blood to fight us? I would have my people look into this. For now, we had information about the potion hiding executioner blood. An advantage sought for so long. My gift to see their true nature wasn’t close to enough. But this was.
I lay back on my bed, the silkiness of the sheets on my skin a welcome caress.
Beautiful elf…
Silver hair, magnificent eyes, a radiant quality to whet any appetite. And an outfit designed to turn heads. He’d looked good. Under different circumstances, I would have gladly taken him to bed, fed from him, explored that slender elf body. He was my type from head to toe.
He killed Layla…
I sat up, cold fury grumbling in my chest.
“He is filth.” I admonished myself.
More guilt twisted inside me for thinking of Paris Raine with even a sliver of positivity.
Medusa hissed from the corner of the room, her emerald body coiled into a grumpy spiral atop her favorite rock.
I smiled, sliding off the bed. “I apologize, darling.”
The python hissed her annoyance at me.
“Come to me,” I said.
She slithered over to me. I bent to pick her heavy body up, draping her across my shoulders.
She hissed her happiness, her forked tongue tickling my cheek instead, her tail coiling around my left arm.
