Maddona

Setting : the facility 'Crescent Dominion'

The meeting room..

How many years has it been since I last felt like a prized bird?

It's not an uncomfortable feeling, in fact, I quite like it, though it gets irritatingly disgusting when the other person doesn't appeal to me.

The long council table gleams under candlelight, its oak polished to the point of arrogance. Around it, they sit. sirens wrapped in seafoam silks, demons with their shadow-thin crowns, a triton general still dripping from his saltwater throne. Each one royalty. Each one wary.

At the far end, back straight, fingers steepled in thought like a man older than his skin suggests, sits Prince Nathaniel Dreymond. Youngest son of House Dreymond. His eyes, dark brown, almond-shaped, and deep as unspoken grief, haven't left me since I walked in.

Very familiar, but younger features. Mondil was right. Dreymond genes are no joke.

He glares. He's trying to mask it, but I see the confusion bubbling in those pretty brown pools as he glances between me and Mathews, standing behind me.

And while everyone else subtly shows deference to my presence. turns their gaze, softens their breath, he releases his pheromones like a slow tide of dominance. I watch the room bow under its weight. One by one, they tense. Chins dip. A siren visibly sways from the pressure.

What a show. He clearly has his father's ego and mannerisms. From the way he sits to the stare, even the subtle twitch of his forefinger.

I sip from my glass, studying him more.

He notices. His jaw tightens.

I smile-just barely.

The doors thunder open.

Councilman Arnold sweeps in, silencing the room with nothing but his presence. A heavy indigo cloak with gold trimmings swirls around his large frame, and from his collar to his boots, he's every inch a living warning of war.

He pauses. Briefly. Barely.

But I see it.

The tiniest tilt of his chin. A subtle neck-baring. Not enough for submission, but enough for respect.

I nod, granting nothing.

Arnold's voice slices through the air.

"The meeting will now commence. Matters of grave urgency are at hand."

He doesn't sit.

"There has been… a kidnapping."

Murmurs ripple. The triton clicks his tongue. One of the Fenrirs growls under their breath.

"It has come to the council's attention that new gates have opened in Uteria Palis—the kingdom of angels. Prince Areall has been taken. The streets are flooded with demons, and our assistance has been requested."

"A team will be sent to take out the demons and rescue as many Palistans as possible. A portal will be waiting at the boundary."

Questions fly from every corner, but only one grabs Arnold's attention.

Nathaniel Dreymond.

"Councilman Arnold, there's still one small confusion... What do they have to do with this?"

He nods toward me and Mathews.

Mathews tenses.

The boy's tone strikes a match. But it flickers out as quickly as it came.

Arnold clears his throat. His gaze flicks to me, hesitantly.

"My apologies for the late introduction. This is Miss Maddona Pierce of Delsyvic-Gavna. She will be assisting you on your missions from now on. She's here to oversee, not intervene... unless absolutely necessary."

I muffle a chuckle.

The way he said it, it was almost like I might start a war if I helped out too much.

/That is not an entirely impossible task for you, Mistress.

Mathews' voice, crisp in our shared mind-link.

Shut up.

/Will do, Mistress.

Eyes tear into my skin from around the table. No questions. Just stares.

I almost want to pose.

They're sizing me up. Trying to place me. Determine where I fit in the hierarchy.

Arnold turns his gaze directly to me.

"Onto your team's assignment. Your mission is to locate the prince and bring him back__dead or alive. First team leaves after this meeting. You leave tomorrow at dawn. Any questions?"

"How can she help? You never specified her abilities. I don't see why a whore from delsyvic would be here."

Nathaniel, again.

My lips stretch into a little smile.

I hate it here already.

"Prince Nathaniel!" Arnold booms.

"Such words will not be tolerated next time. Hold your tongue!"

Even I feel a chill from the power in his voice.

The air tightens. Shock is tangible. Councilmen are known for keeping their cool even in death. Seeing this side of him is almost… an abomination.

But he's desperate.

Desperate enough to chide a Dreymond heir.

Nathaniel's face is a sight.

At first glance, he's the picture of unaffected. Unbothered.

Look closer and you see the blush rising from his tan neck.

His glare finds me again. As if I did something to him.

I've only been here three hours and I'm already making enemies.

Yay me.

/Yay.

Shut it, Mathews.

Nathaniel's lips press into a thin line.

His scent pulses again, heavier this time. Not for dominance.

For control. My smile widens. Even though tightly concealed 9 smell the little secret in his blood. I feel Mathews pulsing for some action but he holds himself back.

Arnold steps subtly between us.

"Enough. The point is_the prince must be found. Before war begins. Before someone uses this to tip the balance."

"And if I refuse to join your scavenger hunt?" I ask coolly.

Arnold meets my gaze behind my glasses, almost pleading.

"Mathews, come."

I walk out. Mathews silent at my side.

But I can still feel Nathaniel's glare burning into my back.

"Any questions?" I hear Arnold say as the door closes behind me.

Silence.

"Meeting adjourned."

~~~

" Mathews, how much would you bet on the princes kidnapping being a trap?"

" your whole business."

" Stingy, I like. Prepare a portal I need to pay a visit to ecstacy, I'll be back in an hour."

"Yes Mistress." He stares at me not moving.

" I'll get you the damn grapes. Why are you so obsessed with those? "

" Thank you mistress." He turns around not bothering to answer my question.

"Mathews, how much would you bet on the prince's kidnapping being a trap?"

"Your whole business."

"Stingy. I like. Prepare a portal—I need to visit ecstasy, I'll be back in an hour."

"Yes, Mistress." He stares at me, unmoving.

"I'll get you the damn grapes. Why are you so obsessed with those things?"

"Thank you, Mistress." He turns without answering.