The Usurper's Throne

2

"Dove," a warm voice said, calling me from sleep. I forced my eyes open and blinked in the bright, yellow light. I was still in the truck, wrapped in a warm flannel blanket. The lights in the car had disappeared, but streetlights lit the ground outside. It was dark. "It's time to head inside."

I blinked at the only light in the car, which was a digital clock, showing it was 3 a.m. I nodded and fumbled with my seat belt. My body wanted nothing more than to keep sleeping. I had only slept a few hours. My chest ached, and my limbs were heavy with exhaustion. I went to open the door and managed to hook my frozen hand over the metal bar. I pulled back and pain shot down my arm. My face blushed bright red as I realized that I had whimpered. Pathetic.

I swallowed my pride and turned to my left. "Damien," I whispered. I glanced over my shoulder and realized he was gone. As I looked back, my door opened, and say saw Damien's perky green eyes looking down at me. "Thanks," I said softly and swung my feet to the ground.

I slid off my seat, and my legs started to crumple beneath me. I gasped in panic, trying to catch something and slow my descent. Suddenly, I felt warm, rough hands holding my elbows up. "Got you, dove." He gently guided me back into the seat. He turned sideways and scooped me up. Gosh, he was tall. My face blushed in embarrassment yet again.

"Sorry," I mumbled.

"You have nothing to be sorry about," Damien said. "It's not your fault Leviathan was feeding from you to reanimate."

I blinked up at him. I shook my head, trying to dislodge whatever sleepiness was making Damien's words into mush. "What did you say?" I asked.

"Leviathan. Reanimating," Damien said, closing the car door with his foot. He made the move look effortless, as I was bumbling around.

"Leviathan?" There was the mush again.

Damien smirked down at me. "I'll explain in the morning. For now, let's get settled." He planted a soft kiss on my head, making my body simultaneously tense and flush with pleasure.

He began walking up toward a building, and I glanced up. My jaw went slack. Even in the darkness, I could tell that we were in front of a legitimate castle. It was huge—stone spires poked the sky. Flags hung over the main entrance. The front door had a metal grate that had been pulled up. Behind that were huge wooden doors. All it was missing was a moat.

The wooden door opened, and a burly man stood holding it open. His face had murder written all over it, which shocked me. I thought greeters were supposed to be friendly. Foreboding crept over me. He stared at me, and I quickly diverted eye contact. Surely, we were not invited here.

"Alpha Damien," the man said gruffly. "Back so soon?" Ah. Not a greeter. A guard. While he was distracted talking to Damien, I looked down at the guard again. He was bald, with a neck so thick it was hard to tell where his neck ended, and head began. There were thick muscles running up to his jaw and forehead. A tattoo ran down his neck, but I couldn't make out what it was.

A felt a grumble in Damien's chest. "Yes. Please call Beatrice to escort us to our rooms. I trust they have been prepared?" he asked. Whatever warmth was in his voice before vanished. Goosebumps rippled over my skin. He was dangerous.

The man nodded. Damien then walked up the steps and into the castle. I gaped when I saw the inside. The atrium was huge. The ceiling was three stories up, and glass panels arched into a point down the center. I stared; I could see the stars from inside, some silvery, others blue, and yet others gold.

"You like it?" Damien asked. I nodded in awe.

Two staircases swirled from opposite sides of the room to the center of the second floor. Halls extended down the center and either side.