The fresh sea air at the rear of the castle battled against the acrid scent of rotting flesh and the thick, white smoke billowing from the furnaces. The humidity made the salt air feel heavy and slick, causing the stench of decay to cling to the fine fabric of the men's suits. Beyond the laborers stood imposing wooden doors with high arches reminiscent of a church, but through those doors, nothing holy ever took place.
The furnace roared with a rhythmic, mechanical hunger. Necromancers moved with practiced indifference, their heavy boots making a wet, sickening squelch as they stepped into puddles of putrid runoff. Jasper watched as they hoisted the bodies of women, the sound of sliding, decayed skin audible even over the roar of the flames as they were heaved into the white-hot craw of the machine. Embedded in the metal plates, glowing stones shimmering with refracted light pulsed on the surface. On the opposing side, a heavy conveyor belt groaned under the weight of the result: Animite stones, vibrating with a raw, suffocating frequency. They were mirror images of the ones powering the machine—white stones that refracted a light that hadn't yet touched them.
Jasper stood with his arms folded, his gaze fixed on the pale, black-eyed demons wrestling the stones into a massive crate. Each stone was condensed soul magic, and the collective power radiating from the pile was a physical weight, making the air ripple like heat waves. Beside him, Michael stood with his arms crossed, his fingers twitching in a subconscious, hungry reach toward the vibrating stones.
"This is a good harvest," Jasper remarked, his voice smooth despite the oppressive energy. "A fair amount of Animite stones."
This year's marriage market had been quite profitable for all kingdoms involved. In earlier years, the process had failed to inspire the princesses to yield such a crop.
"Do you think I am unaware of when you are not whole?" Michael asked, his eyes never leaving the crate.
Jasper didn't respond. He watched a demon worker suddenly buckle, black blood beginning to leak from his ears as the raw frequency of the souls crushed his senses. Even King Michael couldn't hide the strain forever; his jaw tightened, and his chest hitched as he fought to keep his breathing steady against the suffocating pressure. Jasper, however, remained a statue of pride. He let the silence stretch, watching Michael's discomfort with a cold, internal amusement.
Only when Michael let out a shallow, involuntary sigh of relief did Jasper smirk. With a flick of his wrist, he released a torrent of inky black smoke from his palm. The magic surged forward, swallowing the sound and the pressure instantly as it expanded into a shimmering dome over the stockpile. The suffocating weight snapped shut, contained within the smoke, allowing the workers to breathe again.
"You are not allowed to intervene with Princess Daniela's trials," Michael stated, his tone broaching no argument. "She is to fight the trolls without your intervention." He would not allow their kingdom to become a laughingstock because his son had allowed himself to be neutered so absolutely.
"What makes you think I would intervene?" Jasper asked, turning his head slightly to look at Michael. He would soon be crowned King; it would be unwise for Michael to tread so casually.
"You are supposed to be here," Michael countered, "not following around your princess like a lovesick beastman." He spat the last word like the ultimate insult.
"Am I not standing before you?" Jasper said. He paused, his brow furrowing as he felt a strange, hollow ache in his chest—a tether pulling toward the horizon. Without thinking, his hand rose, his fingers beginning to press against his heart. He caught himself instantly.
Realizing the absurdity of the gesture, he snatched his hand away, his pulse spiking with a rare flash of internal nerves. He looked at his palm for a split second, wondering why his body would betray him with such a foolish, vulnerable action.
Michael scoffed as he saw Jasper's eyes shift, looking for something unseen. He already knew what it was. Her. Always her. She was as much a liability as she was an asset to their kingdom.
"I bet you know exactly where she is," King Michael said, his voice laced with mockery as he looked off in the same direction. "You can feel it in your heart!" He smiled, a look Jasper found repugnant.
"Which is it? Are you upset that I'm not here, or that I enjoy the Crown Princess's company?" Jasper asked uncaringly, adjusting the lapels of his jacket.
Michael let out a low chuckle, a sound devoid of warmth. "Like I said before, you have been neutered."
Jasper stiffened. "What does that even mean?" Michael had said it a few times now, and still, Jasper had no idea why he was being compared to a common mutt.
"You've bonded with her," Michael stated.
"No, I haven't," Jasper snapped, his voice dropping an octave. "I would never do something so foolish. Only the most insane demons would bond with any species." He was offended that King Michael would think him so lowly—to be crazy enough to do something so destructive to himself and the kingdom.
To Bond was to link two lives forever. It wasn't a mere oath; it was a biological mandate. A bonded demon could only feed from their partner. To touch another would invite physical revulsion—a sickness that would rot them from the inside out. It was a vow of eternal loyalty.
As the loading neared completion, Lord Hermes stepped forward, eyes glued to his tablet. He worked overtime to appear as though he wasn't overhearing the royals, but he needed confirmation. King Michael gave a sharp nod. At the signal, the crate began to levitate. Hermes and four other demons formed a circle around the mass.
"Tell me," Michael said, his eyes glinting with malice as the ritual began. "When you were away... who did you feed on?"
Jasper took a moment to think. They had been in the demon realm initially, and he'd had his fill of the maids. But then... fuck. He cursed internally. A year in the desert. Just him and Daniela, alone. During that time, she was the only person he had fed on. The voracious, bottomless hunger that had plagued his mind and body... had settled. It hadn't just slowed; it had localized without his consent. He hadn't touched another soul since they returned, and the realization was as terrifying as it was undeniable.
Around the crate, pillars of black flames erupted. A blast of wind hit them, whipping their clothing about. The demons' silhouettes flickered within the dark pyre, and then, with a silent pop of displaced air, the crate and its guardians vanished.
Michael grinned, turning his back on the empty dock to walk toward the viewing room. He was filled with mirth at the realization that the great Jasper could be so catastrophically stupid. Jasper followed, his boots clicking sharply against the stone. He couldn't believe he had unintentionally bonded himself to her through action alone. His knowledge of demon physiology was obviously lacking; he had spent his formative years in the dark realm and only a handful in the demon room before being thrust into this marriage market. It hadn't given him much time to study things that hadn't seemed to matter.
The massive doors to the viewing room swung open with a heavy thud. The chamber smelled of copper and old blood, of sharp musk of suppressed aggression. It was a room of predators—a thick layer of sabotage hanging in the air.
At the central tables sat the gathered royalty: King Elderon and Queen Aurelia with Prince Eric; Queen Griselda and King Quincy with Prince Deacon; and the massive King Ruvok and Queen Thora with Prince Miguel. Further back sat Prince Hector with King Osric and Queen Vespera, while his Crown Princess, Kayla, watched with a sharp gaze.
As Michael and Jasper entered, they moved toward Queen Dahlia. From the central orb, the voice of Princess Fox drifted through the room, thin and trembling. A fog was beginning to roll off her skin, her eyes glowing an effervescent blue. The orb vibrated with the fluctuation of her power, transmitting a cold hum that the royals could feel in their bones.
"—It's to remind us that we are small," Fox's voice echoed. "Even as we grasp onto something as heavy as a crown."
Prince Landon flinched, a flicker of genuine guilt crossing his face. It had taken time, but he had come to appreciate Fox's company and her assertive nature.
The other sovereigns felt nothing but irritation. King Quincy scoffed; to him, dying in hopes of becoming a sovereign was a worthy death. Luckily, his family never had to endure such struggles. The Shades had a long-standing agreement with whoever seemed most likely to win; they always had the ear of every King, weaving tales with gathered information. Only the weak or the stupid had to fight for scraps.
Then, Daniela's voice cut through the frost. She sat by the fire, her black leather trousers and corset reflecting the flames. As she spoke, the Orb shifted. It erupted into a light so fierce the entire amphitheater was bathed in artificial noon, as if a sun had been born in the center of the room. It eclipsed everything Fox had done, forcing the gathered sovereigns to squint against the radiant pressure of her presence.
"I'm glad you know the truth," Daniela said. "You just learned it a little later than I did. You should sign. No one will save you but me. I could allow everyone to die, but I am kind enough to save those who have earned the right to live. I hope you sign, Princess Fox. You are formidable. I hope this is not your end."
The room shifted. King Elderon turned his head slowly, his eyes locking onto Michael with distrust.
What was the contract? The other kings and queens were irritated yet respectful—power spoke for itself. But everyone wondered the same thing: how could a powerless girl offer survival, and why did they believe her? The eyes of the gathering sovereigns all turned toward one man: Jasper. He had been hyper-focused on Princess Daniela from the moment she walked into the room, as if he knew something the rest of them could not yet understand.
Jasper, however, was leaning back, a wide, predatory grin spreading across his face. He was utterly pleased. She was turning out to be one of his most outstanding students.
"Look at her," Jasper murmured, his eyes dancing with dark satisfaction. "Making deals like a true demon."
His words were spoken quietly, yet they carried enough weight to be heard by everyone in the room.
Author's note: I am going to get back on track with my updates 😂 sorry everyone!