The Demon King's Bride

A Last Minute Request

Phoenyx

The doors to the hall swung open, revealing chairs full of people she had never seen before in her life. It was odd, seeing such a large congregation of beings present for an event that had to deal with her. For the majority of her life, Victor had been sure to keep her as isolated as possible. Yet, despite the size of the gathering, she knew her father lurked among the masses, watching her carefully to be sure she gave nothing of his future plans away.

Victor was not stupid. He was well aware that Phoneyx was hiding things from him. While he suspected she had abilities, he had no clue what they were. If he had any idea of just what she had become capable of, Phoenyx was sure he would have killed her, if not that, she would have been sold off to the highest bidder. The fact he had decided to use her in this particular plot of his, only spoke to his own insatiable greed. Her father truly believed that he could control this scenario and her, which meant that this ceremony was her one and only option to gain some form of freedom.

Phoenyx was under no illusion. The minute her father realized that his Alpha commands held no weight with her, he would consider her a target. One of the enemy. That was a label she was perfectly fine with. Especially if it meant she gained her freedom in some form or fashion.

What she had not counted on, was her reaction to the Demon King and the kindness of his father. Now, as she walked down the aisle, escorted by the Elder, she was grateful for the veil he had offered. The gauzy fabric was just enough to cover or throw shadow over the areas where bruising was still apparent. The veil over her face, hiding the discoloration that still marred one cheek. Even with makeup, there had been no hiding that from anyone studying her features.

One thing which surprised her, was the hall. Corner to corner, the place was filled with decorations to celebrate the occasion. Never in her life had she had a part of anything that had garnered such care. Fabric streamers of black, white, and red were held up and tied with silver trinkets to drape along the outskirts of the room. Candles lit the braziers lining the hall, each one burning with a different color flame to represent the differing nations of the supernatural world.

Phoenyx found herself assailed by an amalgam of scents. Some she was familiar with, others that were completely foreign to her. They existed in the the mass of bodies gathered in the hall, and the herbs and plants marking the decor that lined the walls about them. If she had a guess, she would have thought someone was celebrating a great harvest with all of the trappings and finery that filled the room.

The knowlegde that all of this had been done as a celebration of her nuptuals was enough to make her head spin. In a matter of moments, she would be standing at the front of the room, speaking vows to tie her life to that of the Demon King.

How in the name of the nine hells had she even gotten here?

The better question was, how in the nine hells was she going to convince her husband of the danger he was in?

The truth was, Phoenyx only had a baseline knowledge of her father's plans. She had no knowledge of her father's allies or when exactly he would make his move. There was also no definitive plan other than what he had told her on the night he had announced her engagement. The only thing that she was sure of was the fact that he did intend to be one of the people to have a hand in removing Xanathal from the throne and expanding the territories of his own species and then his allies if it suited him.

There were some parts of this plan that Phoenyx had neglected to think through. Such as the fact that now she was in a room with a multitude of other beings when normall she was sequestered by herself in her father's pack. More people meant more distractions and more pain. The room around her was hazy, the auras of the people gathered en masse was almost blinding. Their thoughts, their abilities, were suddenly crowding her own mind, pressing inward, causing her brain to shriek in pain. Every errant thought, every unspoken comment pressed in on Phoenyx to make itself known. Her fingers tightened on Duranthal's arm as she drew in a ragged breath.

"Are you alright?" The older male asked softly, his body turning to half shield her from the others in the hall as they waited for the wedding processional to begin.

"Just...need...a...second." She whispered, stugglinh to play catch up and start shutting the multitude of beings out of her mind.

"You're one of the gifted." Duranthal breathed out, his hand tightening on her own. "Does anyone know?"

"No." She whispered, and peered up, even behind the veil her eyes were watery with tears but the pleading in her voice was obvious. "Please, they can't know."

"And I won't tell them." Slowly he tilted his head, and Phoenyx could feel the sudden charge as a mind link was opened. Her breath hitched, as she worked to silence the voices in her own head. "I think however, your husband should know, do you not agree?" Duranthal offered a gentle smile and stepped forward once more shielding her from view.

So you are gifted. I find that a welcome surprise. The voice resonated in her mind, and almost at once, the rest of the voices croding in went silent. She knew that voice, despite only having contact with it's owner for a few minutes before the ceremony. That was the voice of her soon-to-be husband.

Yes. I suppose I am if that is what your people call it. She answered back softly as the pain behind her eyes began to disspate.

That is what everyone calls it. Even the shifters.

They do not believe in the gifted. None of their kind have ever manifested the abilities of legend. Her answer was soft spoken. A form of rebuttal. Slowly her fingers relaxed on the elder's arm as she realized the room had suddenly become barable. There were incessant proddings at her mind, but no longer a flood of knowledge from everyone else in the room. Are you doing this? Making the room silent?

Yes and no. I am mindlinking you now to block out the others that are present. That said, you are of shifter blood and have manifested abilities. Why did no one tell me this? Xanathal's voice was calm, an even monotone note that filled her mind and dulled the other senses making it possible for Phoenyx to gain her equilibrium.

They do not know. None of them do. It would have been worse for me if they had.

I hope you will explain this to me in detail. The gifted are to be revered and prized. They are meant to help bring balance to our world. Xanathal's voice held a soft question. She knew that while his response was phrased as a request, it was truly an order. Not that she could refute it, especially k nowing that just their marriage was bringing danger to this man and his kingdom. Once others learned the truth of her abilities, it would paint an even bigger target on the king's back.

I will, but the other's of the shifter kingdom have to be gone. And...

And what, little moon? Xanathal's voice sounded amused. Phoenyx however latched on to the words he had spoken.

Little Moon? Why would you call me that? Nervous now, she peered up at Duranthal her fingers tightening as her eyes widened in panic.

It is appropriate for you. That is what you remind me of, the moon. You are radiant, Little Moon. You shine in the middle of this audience and you have not even be seen by the masses. I see you though, piercing the darkness of this world around me. Even with your scars, even with your silence, you are glowing, radiating light. The words caused Phoenyx's breath to still. Tears flooding her eyes at the first compliment she had ever recieved from someone other than her brother. Her breath hitched, as hope flooded her. There was a chance, a chance she could find some kind of freedom here. Even as she had a thought, the King continued, What is your additional request, Little Moon?

I need you to mark me during the ceremony. Like the shifter's do among their kind. The request brought silence. For a moment, Phoneyx feared he had cut the mind link. She could understand it, most thought the ways among shifters were primitive at best.

This is what you would ask of me. So tell me, Little Moon. If I do as you ask, will you mark me in kind? Xanathal's voice echoed in curiosity.

I could, if you wish it. I assumed you would not want...

No, you will mark me, today. If you will ask this of me, you will return this marking in kind in front of your elders and your king. Phoenyx was brought up short, no one was aware she could shift in any form. They assumed she was wolfless. If she marked him, they would realize quickly that all was not as it seemed.

I can do such, but once it happens, I cannot be near my father or the king. Please. Phoenyx hoped that he understood the urgency in her voice. That he would know there was far more to this than met the eye.

Very well, Little Moon. I will mark you in the way of your people. Anything else?

Please, don't hate me. She whispered the thought through the mindlink and then went silent. Even now, her future husband kept the link intact, drowning out the minds of all the others in the hall. Turning her head to look at Duranthal, she nodded, "I'm ready."

"Then let us not keep the King waiting." Duranthal winked and shifted to move to her right side. A wave of his hand had the soft peel of music beginning as the elder began to lead her up the aisle.