Page 29 of Demon Food

But then why was it so long? It felt more than just sexual. Like I was not intended to leave this room.

I whirled around the fancy room with my gut blaring and heart beginning to race.

It was clean and pristine, just like the king. It didn’t necessarily smell like him, but the fire was rolling, so it smelled more like charred cedar than anything else.

There were two doors, both solid black wood and shut.

The first one I tried creaked as I opened it.

My eyes widened even further as I stepped inside.

Oh, my goodness. This was the largest washroom I’d ever seen. The walls were textured with a pewter metallic covering and, just like the bed chambers, everything inside it was oversized, including the dozens of framed mirrors on the walls and the high-polished silver tub in the center.

In one corner was another fireplace, and in another sat a massive black chaise lounge propped up by grand, claw-like feet that resembled a dragon.

I slowly made my way inside, rubbing warmth onto my bare arms. The chain had plenty of slack to allow me to reach most any part of the washroom.

My head reeled when I caught a glance at myself in a mirror. I had to blink for ages at the reflection staring back.

Someone had…altered me.

My hair had been oiled and combed into a poised style with tiny bits of mother-of-pearl woven throughout by a sparkling silver thread. I dripped in jewelry, and a metallic shimmer had been dusted atop my cheekbones and collarbones, wherever the light might naturally reflect.

I even smelled different with my skin polished and perfumed with something nearly spicy, like cinnamon. It was exactly how I would imagine a palace concubine to smell and look. Over-the-top. Sexy.

The chain followed me as I wandered from the washroom to try the other door which, gods, was a dreadfully heavy thing. It took all my strength just to haul it open and shimmy out before it sealed shut again with a slam. It was as if humans were not intended to navigate anything around here.

Beyond the door was an empty hallway of more black wood, which ended at a spiral staircase encased in a charcoal stone that sparkled in the light.

“Hello?” I asked the silence. “Is anyone there?”

Nothing. There was no shuffling. No footsteps or voices.

Maybe it was by design. Maybe that was why the walls and doors were as heavy as they were. Because of their exceptional hearing, it would be one way to ensure privacy.

It took all my strength just to muscle the door open and return to the king’s room where it was just so quiet, the only sound from the crackling fire.

Maybe a lot of contracts included a chain and a collar, and I just didn’t know because I’d never done one, but the thought didn’t soften the panic trying to slither up my throat.

How long? How long was I to remain chained here? Chained to the king of Novithia’s room with no other choice but to fucking wait.

My thoughts drifted to Landry as they so often did. I would never tell him this, but the thought of him had never calmed me. Quite the opposite. Since the day I met him, he’d filled me with a profound sense of responsibility that sometimes I wished I could ignore.

I pressed the thought away and wandered further into the room. It was oddly serene. And even though it was spotless, it was also lived in. I traced my palm over a beautiful grand armoire which had been intricately carved with…sex scenes.

I blinked. Yes, that was what they were. In the thick wood, someone had taken the time to carve out very detailed sex scenes between vultae and presumably their humans.

My eyes narrowed as I swished to the chest of drawers. Same thing. Then the bedposts. What I’d mistaken as abstract intricacies were actually hundreds if not thousands of tiny, explicit sex scenes.

“Seriously?” I whispered aloud to no one as I wandered to the writing desk beneath a window. “It’s just not necessary. We get it. You like sex.”

The writing desk was the only thing not carved in sex scenes. I skimmed my fingertips across its smooth surface. Something about it felt especially cared for. I would say it felt love, but they weren’t capable.

I opened the drawer. Neat. Minimalist. Two ink pens and a stack of blank paper were all there was. And a small journal in the corner, bound in leather.

I peeked over my shoulder, pulling the journal out and flipping through to find its pages blank. Not a single entry. It was a bit disappointing, but of course the ruler of the kingdom wasn’t going to have war plans written out for anyone to find.

I’d nearly slid it back in its home when a folded paper fell out. I glanced over my shoulder once more, then opened it because why wouldn’t I? One shouldn’t leave a human chained to their chambers and expect them not to snoop.