A Throne of Ruin (Deliciously Dark Fairytales 2)

“Huh. Well, you’re all gross, so there’s that. And clearly terrible lovers. The things you learn when your magic is on the fritz, huh?”

We stopped in front of a closed door, and he turned to me, his eyes a dirty red that spoke of blood and death. I hadn’t realized they changed colors based on his moods. That would be handy. For instance, right now he was clearly very angry. A fact that wiggled my bowels a little despite myself.

“In sixteen years, we have warped the minds of these miserable shifters. We have bled them, poisoned them, tortured them, and slowly killed them. We’ve stripped them of their honor and forced them into depressed, shame-riddled lives until their miserable early demises. I have enjoyed watching the dragon slide into a dark pit. A few more years, and he would’ve begged me to end his life. He would’ve begged me for any way out possible.” His smile was cold. “And then suddenly a woman appears in his life, and he perks up. He wants to live again. He heals the kingdom and somehow deadens the effects of my demons. Quite the coincidence.”

I kept my mouth shut. This guy had gotten bad information. Nyfain hadn’t healed anything. Nor had he figured out how to deaden the effects of the demons. He also never would’ve begged this asshole for anything. He might’ve wanted to die, but he would’ve trucked on even after there was nothing left to truck on to. Or for. I knew that in my bones. He wasn’t like his father. Whenever he devoted himself to something, he gave it his all.

Dolion stared at me, looking for a reaction.

I gave him one.

“I must admit…I am quite the lay. I’m not kidding. My vagina brings men back to life.”

His eyes narrowed. He didn’t comment for a moment, and I didn’t rush him. I didn’t want to say the wrong thing and give too much away.

“You’ll dine with me tomorrow evening,” he finally said. “Bring the dragon. Dress nicely. We have…things to discuss.”

His tone sent a shiver down my spine.

He walked away, and all I wanted to do was throw a knife at his back. He’d preyed on the mad king, thereby cornering Nyfain and our whole kingdom into an impossible situation. A situation that might eventually result in mass murder or servitude. All for what? Gold and one less shifter seat on some council? How could a guy like that sleep? How had no one torn him down?

Fire raging through me, I pulled open the door. The demon lust magic was so heavy it felt like walking through a curtain. It turned my stomach, and my eyes started to water. A smaller orgy was taking place in this room, but most of the participants were humanoid.

“Finley.” Hadriel pushed out through the center of the crowd. He wore green lipstick and a bright pink wig that bobbed with each step. A little maid’s dress partially covered his body, but the hem only reached to his upper thighs, and his dick waggled out of the bottom. He clearly was not wearing underwear.

“What…” I wasn’t sure what to say.

“Yeah, this…” He waved it away as he got closer. “That fucker Cecil heard that I wanted a proper maid’s outfit, just in case…you know…we have to travel. But he chose to make me one for a party instead. He is getting on my last nerve. Anyway, first, I am steaming that I have to be here after taking that draught. Do you know how fucking terrible it is getting it on with…creatures? It’s fucking terrible. This is an all-time low for me, Finley, and it is all your fault. I’m going to have nightmares. Some of them have, like…knobby dicks! But I need to play along with the demons, so I think—I’ll just stick it in a vagina, right? It’s wet and warm and I’ll just look at a stacked guy across the way to keep it up.” He stared at me with wild eyes. “The demon’s vagina had fucking teeth, Finley!” he yelled. “It scraped my pecker. I was already wary of the mighty vagina, but now I’m just fucking terrified. I’m sober, for fuck’s sake! You need to talk to the master. We at least need alcohol if we’re going to keep up this tomfoolery. It’s a fucking nightmare.”

“Cheers!” I tried desperately not to laugh when he glowered at me. It really wasn’t funny. It wasn’t! But his rendition of events…

“Not cool, love,” he said to me in a dark tone.

That made me laugh harder. “Sorry, sorry.” I waved my hand. “Sorry. Anyway, Dolion—”

“Don’t tell me you call him by his first name,” he said, horrified.

I paused. “Um…I think I did. Why? What am I supposed to call him?”

“He’s a king. You call him ‘your majesty.’”