The Soul on Fire | Slow Updates

Chapter Twenty-Three

"God, this concoction is disgusting," Armaita whined, forcing the last of the hideous brown tonic down her throat and handing the empty glass back to Charmeine.

"I know, my queen, but it is essential for the baby's health. Since you were not born a demon, your body lacks the necessary nutrients to nourish the child. You could give birth at any moment now – you won't need to take it once the babe is born."

Armaita sighed, resting her head against the pillow and stroking her palms over her large belly absentmindedly. "Yes, I know. Where is Asmodeus? I haven't seen him for days."

The high priestess flashed the Demon Queen an irritated glance – quickly shaking it off before forcing a smile. That had to be the fifth time she'd done that, and Armaita took a mental note.

"I've already explained this, my queen," the demoness pushed, "his presence during a crucial time like this is not recommended. The stress will cause undue harm to the child."

"Yes," Armaita hissed, shifting her weight so she was propped against the headboard, "you say that, but you still haven't explained why. I don't understand how having the father of my child present could possibly cause any harm. He deserves to be here; furthermore, I want him here. I demand to see him."

"My queen –"

"Now, Charmeine!" Armaita growled, the candles in the room shooting to three times their height before extinguishing altogether. The former angel discovered that her newfound powers were directly tied to her emotions, making them difficult to control – especially given her current hormonal state.

Sucking in a deep breath, she tried to calm herself. For six days, the priestess had been feeding her excuses as to why she couldn't leave her bed, and more recently, why she couldn't be with her mate. Armaita grew tired of them quickly. She hadn't seen him for nearly four days, and she missed him. Moreover, she'd been having the oddest feeling for the last two nights, which unsettled her further.

Something wasn't right, and she suspected Charmeine was involved. Sadly, she couldn't prove her theory while she was confined to her bed 24 hours a day.

She had had enough. She hadn't had the chance to become accustomed to her new position as a monarch but now was as good a time as any to exert some authority over her subjects. The red-haired demoness before her was the one thing standing between her, and what she wanted.

"How about I make you a soothing tea to help –"

"No!" The Demon Queen commanded the sheets off her body – her power flinging them across the room. She felt entirely too weak to walk on her own, but she'd reached her limit. Tired of a servant telling her what to do, she called on her telepathic abilities to pull herself out of bed.

Landing safely on her feet, Armaita began to step toward the door when Charmeine took hold of her arm.

"My Lady, I must insist –"

"Enough!" Armaita's form burst into flames, the power of the blast sending the priestess careening to the ground – knocking herself unconscious when her head came into contact with the palace floor. Calling on her shadows, Armaita managed to appear outside of the bedroom – feeling significantly lighter once she was out of there.

Struggling for purchase, she stumbled along the corridor – her hands gripping every statue or piece of furniture she passed as she searched for her king. The babe chose that exact moment to deliver a kick so painful, she was nearly paralyzed on the spot. Breathing through the torment, Armaita called on her shadows a second time, but they would not come.

She was too weak.

"Asmodeus," she called, hoping he would sense her pain and hear her call. Their bond as mates kept them connected in ways she'd never known possible. She hadn't felt his presence for days – not since Charmeine convinced him to keep his distance for the sake of their unborn seed. It was on the second day of his absence that Armaita felt something was off.