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“Four guards were lost.”
“You were the one to finally seize her?”
“I did as you asked.”
“Good. Your loyalty to the Crown will be rewarded generously. Guard her with the attention and devotion you guard your King.”
“Of course, Your Majesty.”
A slow, wheezing breath filled the silence expressing the King’s excitement. “I want to see her.”
“She’s been taken to her chamber to?—"
“Now.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Pivoting out of the private chambers, Cerberus marched through the corridors untethered by ceremony. As a draugr, death was no danger to him, so protection was unnecessary.
The trappings of his armor added to his bulk and announced his approach with the alarming clamor of steel. And while he didn’t soundlessly glide like a ghost, he moved with inhuman agility for a male of his heft and strength.
Despite not knowing what he was, soldiers instinctively moved out of his path. When he passed by, women frequently fell into prayer. He towered over the masses and carried the cold essence of the underworld with him wherever he went.
He existed to serve the Crown and lived without fear of torture. He was the King’s greatest weapon of torment. No one within the kingdom's walls had the stomach to do the things he could do, and when the King needed answers or someone to blame, Cerberus was the first to get the guilty talking.
He did not resemble the men at court. From their feeble physiques to their foppish attire, they were perhaps the weakest generation of this race he’d seen thusfar. The females were equally unappealing, nothing but wasted flesh on fragile bones.
It wasn’t his Viking height or the clamor of his armor that set them on edge, but the fire in his stare, shadowed by the hammered iron of the Viksø helmet that fit his skull. He could slaughter every last one of them before they realized their pathetic mortal lives were over.
They were weak. Even the royal army was preoccupied with belts and buttons fit for fanfare instead of war. Overthrowing the throne would be easy for any man willing to approach it logically. And while Cerberus served this king, he’d certainly live long enough to serve another.
His gaze marked every onlooker as he dutifully went to fetch the female. For now, because it suited him, his loyalty was to His Majesty. Cerberus was content to serve as a hound and guardian of the Crown, and the King valued his loyalty.
Death did not haunt Cerberus, and he never hesitated to take a life. He often reported back to Charles with blood still dripping from the horns of his helmet and the echoes of lesser mortals’ screams still echoing in his ears. None of that mattered as long as victory had been won.
“Step aside,” he ordered the guard at the tower chamber.
Cerberus rapped his split knuckles on the metal door and entered. Lilias’s hard glare landed on him with the unflinching regality of a royal, but there was no trace of imperial blood in her body.
However, she possessed immortality in her veins, which was why His Majesty wanted her.
Cerberus barged into her chambers, and she stood, the material of her gown still damp from the rain and clinging to her form. Her breasts jutted against the ripples of silk, unconfined or adorned with the trappings of a corset like the females at court typically wore.
“You promised I wouldn’t be a prisoner here.” She was a commoner with the confidence of a queen.
“You are His Majesty’s guest.”
“If I am his guest, why has he not greeted me?”
“His Majesty has requested your presence in his private quarters.”
Staggering back a small step, she studied him.
His gaze dropped to the slender column of her neck as she swallowed tightly. The slight ripple in her confident façade intrigued him. While immortals were the more advanced species, they were far outnumbered and could quickly be overrun or tortured through experimentation if ever truly exposed.
“Does he know about us?” she whispered too low for the other guards to hear.
Although she was also Norse and of a similar species, she was from a far more delicate race. His breed had been called everything from ghost walkers to skull warriors while her kind awaited maturity and signals from the gods.
