Page 25 of To Sway a Demon Heart

“You used blood magic,” Draven wheezed, looking accusingly at his father. “You killed that male, and created that creature. It was you who soldherout to Scathanna, wasn’t it?”

Carnon stood, his hands in his pockets and his eyes intent on Tenebris as Draven hurled the accusation at him.

“Sold who out?” I asked, feeling a little lost. Tyr held me a bit tighter as Carnon answered my query.

“Keaira,” he replied, whispering her name like a prayer. I paled, remembering Elara’s concern over Carnon’s former lover, and the tragic circumstances of that lover’s death. She had betrayed Carnon, her mind warped by blood magic, and Carnon had been forced to kill her himself to spare her a far more gruesome and painful death.

“You were the one who twisted her mind,” Draven rasped, clearly more capable of words even in his state than Carnon. Elara made it over to him, and I saw the white pulse of healing magic sweep through him. His voice was steadier when he next spoke. “You swore to me that it wasn’t you. That you would never use your blood magic to hurt your own family. But you invaded mine in the first trial. You lying piece of shit!”

“She was your daughter,” Carnon growled, his presence seeming to grow and stretch as the air around him filled with static and darkness. “And you let her die for that monster.”

“This is all conjecture,” Tenebris hissed, backing away from the approaching King, who looked far more demonic with revenge so near. “I have no blood magic.”

“It was you who freed Draven from my control in the first trial,” Tyr accused, glancing at the shadow demon, who looked far healthier after Elara’s ministrations. Shyama was standing now, her sword in hand as she glared at Tenebris. “It was you I felt controlling the shadows with blood magic in the second trial. I believed it was Draven.”

“I didn’t inherit his gifts,” Draven spat, looking like he would tear his father’s head from his body himself if Carnon were not intent on doing it first. “A source of great disappointment to my highly gifted sire.”

“You assisted Scathanna in warping the minds of her casters,” Carnon accused, his voice resonating eerily. The other demons scrambled away from Tenebris as Carnon approached, all of the air and light seeming to vanish in his presence. “You sacrificed your daughter to try to get rid of me. You would have let Scathanna rip her to shreds.”

“You have no evidence,” Tenebris said weakly, cowering from Carnon as if this could save him. “No evidence.”

The words seemed to strike something in Carnon, who frowned and took a step away from his prey, the vortex of malice that had been swirling around him dissipating so suddenly it felt like all of the air had been let out of the world.

“You’re right,” Carnon said, looking grimly at Shyama. “And your crimes are not within my jurisdiction.”

Shyama nodded, throwing out her hand to bind Tenebris in shadow. He squawked in protest, struggling against the bonds that Draven added to, until the male was immobilized in darkness.

Elara went to Carnon’s side, putting a hand on his arm again. “You are a good king,” she murmured. “And there will be justice for what was done to her.”

He nodded once, as if some understanding passed between them with that reminder, and spoke again. “Lady Shyama, you will try this male in your court as follows our traditions,” he said, nodding his head politely to the new Lady of Shadows. “If you find him guilty, you will bring him to me.”

“It shall be done, my King,” Shyama intoned, her voice smooth like velvet as she bowed, accepting her new position. “I pledge my fealty to you in the name of the Horned God, master of death and resurrection. My Queen,” she added, turning her dark eyes toward Elara, “I pledge my fealty to you in the name of the Triple Goddess, mistress of life and death and mother of all.”

I looked at Draven, who fell to a knee and made the same pledge, clearly accepting Shyama as the new Lord of Shadow and pledging his fealty as much to her as to Carnon. I wondered what had happened between them in the trials to create such loyalty, but I had a strong suspicion it was a force beyond their control, possibly the same one that had brought me and Tyr together. Draven looked up at Shyama like she was the Goddess herself, and I felt certain that he would not be pursuing my affections any longer.

“In that case,” Carnon said, taking a deep breath and blowing it out as if exhausted by the drama of the whole affair. “I declare the tournament ended. Lady Shyama, Lord of Shadow, we accept your fealty in the name of the Goddess and her Consort. May we serve and protect with their fairness and honor.”

Chapter 14

“Admitthatyouhadno idea it was Tenebris,” I said, watching Tyr undress after all of the bureaucracy and legalities had finally been settled and we were all permitted to retire.

Shyama and Draven had escorted Tenebris and the rest of the council back to Shadow, vowing to keep the lord under lock and key until the truth could be established. Draven had given me a slight nod of understanding, glancing at my hands clasped with Tyr’s, and bowed his head in farewell before stepping through the mirror after his lady.

Carnon and Elara had returned to Oneiros, and Cerridwen and Herne to Beasts, but all had insisted that Tyr and I make ourselves present in the Capital within the week.

“Officially, we need to figure out how Blood and Sun will function with mated Lords, and meet with Shyama to sort out the mess in Shadow,” Elara had explained, squeezing my hands in support and delight. “But unofficially we need to celebrate.” She kissed my cheek as she left, reminding me to tell hereverythingby mirror as soon as I could. Cerridwen has been no less enthusiastic, giving me a suggestive wink as she departed with Herne.

“I admit, I was certain it was Draven,” Tyr confessed, grinning at me across the bed as he removed his coat and shirt, revealing the planes of scars and muscle. “I blame you for that, just so you know.”

“I don’t see how that’s my fault,” I replied, trying to sound haughty as I unlaced my gown and pretended to ignore Tyr’s hungry gaze.

“You distracted me with jealousy,” Tyr pointed out, giving up the battle for restraint and prowling around the bed like a jungle cat. “If you hadn’t flirted with him so terribly at Samhain, I might have realized it was his father who was the treacherous snake.”

“Dancing is not flirting,” I pointed out, letting Tyr assist me with the gown and feeling goosebumps trail down my arms in the wake of his calloused hands. “I had no idea that Tenebris and Draven were Keaira’s family.”

“I knew,” Tyr said darkly, studying me in the candlelight. “Carnon told me at Samhain. It was one of the reasons I didn’t trust Draven.”

“And you didn’t think to maybe mention that?” I asked, letting myself caress the scars on his broad chest and map their lines. I intended to learn their topography, to memorize every welt and divot and kiss each one until the memory of how they were received was wiped from my mate’s brain. “Or to mention that Tenebris was a blood demon?”