The Demon King's Bride

A Meeting of Minds

Xanathal

Giving a low growl, Xan moved through the halls of his palace. The Elder Council that served to guide and influence the ruling royalty of the Kingdoms were all in house and awaiting the ceremony. His 'bride' had arrived two days ago and been sequestered to the west wing of his home. He had not caught hide nor hair of the female in question.

"Calm down, Xan. It's almost over." Duranthal spoke softly to him. "What do you think of the girl?"

"I wouldn't know, I still haven't been allowed to see her. Which was the one caveat I asked for." He frowned, turning to look at his father. "Is there something else wrong with her that we weren't told?"

"No. Just that she was wolfless." Duranthal grimaced, "I will get her to the meeting hall of the east wing. I'll have her there in twenty minutes. It won't give you long with the girl, but it should be enough time for you to make your decision."

"I'll meet you there as soon as I finish speaking with the Shifter King and his mate." Xan nodded as his father made his way out of the room. Shifting a little, he lifted a hand to adjust the tunic he was wearing for the ceremony. He hated the need for pomp and circumstance, more than that he hated having to pretend to be civil with these nobles from other kingdoms that were barely more than animals. Now, he was marrying one.

He had spent two weeks trying to find a way out of this marriage. He was one of the oldest of his kind. A Dark Celestial with the power to rule. Now he was being saddled with a defective dog as a wife. Perhaps he would get lucky and she would at least be interesting enough to converse with.

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Xanathal frowned as he made his way to the meeting hall in the east wing. He had never really cared for the pomp and circumstance that came with ceremonies such as today, but it was not something he could truly avoid. For the moment, they had to address the cultures of those involved and run through each and every nuance of their ceremonies in order to appease the masses. His research on the shifter way of mating was positively primitive, at least as far as he was concerned.

It would be interesting to see his bride's take on the matter, if she had one at all. The truth was, he was wary of this female they had chosen. Since her arrival, there had been not a whisper from her side of the manor. No requests. No demands. For a royal of one of the shifter lineages, there had been little in the way of demands. Not even a peep to ask for a servant to bring her food, or items that she would be in need of to prepare for the ceremony.

It was vexxing. Hell, even one of his own kind would have at least made a request for certain food or drink. Yet, not a whisper had come from that side of the house. The only thing he had seen were shifter warriors that prowled the corridors and blocked the doorways as the elders and royals moved back and forth between rooms.

According to their King, the girl was willing. Had agreed to the marriage and offered no complaint or resistence to her chosen role. Yet, something about all this sat ill with Xan, though he couldn't quite figure out why. Making his way towards the door, he saw his father storming out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

Duranthal was known for keeping a tight lid on his emotions, so to see him acting out in such a way, brought his son up short. Frowning, he made his way forward with a smirk on his face, "That hideous is she?"

"Yes, but not for the reasons you think." He frowned a little and shook his head, "I will never understand those creatures with human type emotions and actions."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Xan arched a brow and looked to his father.

"Our kind, we use and bend the darker side of life. But that girl is permeated by it all, and it spreads on her like a damn stain." He frowned, "Whatever she is, what has been done to her clings to her like a black cloud only allowing glimpses at what and who she is underneath. The worst part is it all reeks of violence."

"Violence. But she has no wolf." Xan said in confusion.

"Which is my point." Duranthal frowned, "I tried to ask her but she just kept bowing her head and wouldn't speak."

"Let me handle it." With a nod to his father, Xanathal moved to the door. "Make sure you get the others including all the shifters to the hall. Once that is done you can come back here for my decision." Without waiting for an answer, he reached out, turning the knob on the door and making his way into the room.

He had walked into this room thousands of times in thousands of different ways, but this time it was like all of the air was pulled out of him as he made his way into the room. His chest suddenly ached, and the scent of old blood with coppery undertone that teased the senses wafted through the air. His eyes scanned the room, searching for the source and all air suddenly left his lungs.

His bride to be stood across the room, but she did not face him. Instead she stood in front of the large window that overlooked the courtyard below. The female was small, smaller than he expected. In truth, the girl was maybe chest level with him and more than that she looked frail, almost fragile. Her body was too thin, he could see the line of her spine raised along the center of her back indicating malnourishment at some point. Her skin was a soft golden color, but with his enhanced sight, he could see the lines of small raised scars that littered her exposed skin.

Continuing his perusal, he noted the brilliant red hair, the way the strands glinted in the light making it appear like living fire. Breathing in again, he caught that scent of blood, but there was no trace of animal clinging to her skin like he found with most shifters. Instead, he could scent cinnamon and vanilla, two of his favorite scents that he clung to from his childhood before his powers had come to fruition. It was a comfort that he never admitted to anyone else, because it was so childish. It also clung to her like a second skin.

She was dressed in a loose fitting amethyst gown, the fabric flowing about her with a graceful flourish that enhanced each and every movement she made. Lifting a hand, Xan rubbed at t he center of his chest, where a sudden, incessant ache had begun to settle. None of it made sense, and that confusion made his voice come out gruff and harsh when he finally spoke.

"I thought your kind preferred wearing pristine white on the day of their mating ceremonies?" He could have kicked himself when he saw her flinch in response. His father had been right, darkness and violence clung to her like a shroud, but there was something beneath, an inherent goodness that peeked out from beneath the surface. Yet, nothing could have prepared him for the impact when the girl turned to peer at him.

Her eyes were not something he could have prepared himself for. He now understood the exact reason that she had chosen the color of her dress.

He was staring into twin pools of brilliant violet. They were vibrant and brilliant in color. Her gaze was watchful, clear. She did not shy away from him, but instead, seemed to settle back and observe him as if in thought. Slowly, Xanathal drew closer to her, taking a few steps forward into the room and towards where she waited at the window. Only to come to a halt, when she spoke softly.

"That is a generalization. I am not like many of the others of my kind. Unlike them, I'm an anomaly, something that should not have happened. Did they not inform you of such before you agreed to this?" He was taken aback. Most shifters were exceedingly proud, stubborn to a fault. They would not admit any kind of weakness, and yet this female blatantly set herself apart from them and called herself weak.

"I suppose it is." He answered, "I was informed that you were wolfless. I would assume that is only a state of being and does not affect how you follow their customs and ceremony."

"Hard to follow things you are not allowed to be a part of." She spoke softly and turned her head to peer out the window once more.

"I see. So is there anything in the ceremony you would like to skip?" He asked softly.

"Anything you wish. I am merely here to fulfill the bargain that was made. I was already told that you were being forced to take a bride, whether it was me or another." She gave a shrug, "I do wonder what requirements you will have of me. You said nothing in the first two days I was here."

"I figured we would....figure that out later. I did not know what kind of bride I would be getting." Xan spoke softly, moving closer to her. Drawing in her scent, he shuddered, and he could feel the blood in his veins heating, pumping faster, thumping in his ears.

"As you wish, M'Lord." She nodded once.

"Xan. My name is Xan." He offered.

"Very well, M'Lord Xan." She bowed her head and then drew in a small breath turning back to the window.

"Is there anything you would ask of me?" He asked softly, fighting the urge to lift his hand and cup her cheek, but it was obvious the girl was on edge.

"When the ceremony is over, send them all away. The shifters, the warriors of my father's pack. The Elders...all of them. I want them gone before we...speak on anything dealing with the future between us." She spoke softly, her eyes cutting over to look at him. Despite the clever use of makeup, Xan could see bruising across one side of her face. The sunken cheekbones, the sharp angles of her face and shoulders. All of it culminating in a picture of abuse and neglect.

Yet she stood here, regal in her own right. Asking for something he would not have expected from one of her kind. Asking for solitude and the absence of her people instead of a flood of them sliding into his territory to lay claim through their alliance.

"You are sure that this is what you want?" Xan asked.

"Yes. This is what I want." She answered softly.

"Very well, I have one question for you before I grant your request." Xan spoke softly.

"What is your question?" The female turned then to look at him, those violet eyes laser focused on his own.

"What is your name, My Queen?" Xan asked in a whisper.

"Phoenyx. My name is Phoenyx Ariella Trevain." Drawing in a breath she bowed her head and turned to the window once more.

"I will go and make all the arrangements for the ceremony to begin and the guests departure immediately after. I will send my father to come and get you and escort you to the hall." Turning on his heel, Xanathal rushed out the door, closing it behind him and leaning against it.

Of all the things he could had encountered, or come into contact with on this day, he never could have imagined this. After centuries spent on the throne, the abject loneliness of rulling over the Dark Celestials and helping to keep the supernatural realm hidden, the woman that they chose for him to wed was actually his mate. Something Xan had no idea how to process or truly understand. At least not until he got to know her little better.