Chapter 9

"Welcome, Your Highness," Cedric greeted with a profound bow, acknowledging the somber gravity that accompanied the entry of Damon, the dark prince, into the palace. The guards, initially tense at his arrival, visibly relaxed as they registered that his presence was a consequence of royal summons, they wouldn't have to get into a futile spar with him.

Damon gave a nod of acknowledgment and promptly headed toward the quieter recesses of the palace. His intended to navigate the shadows, trying to avoid the unwarranted scrutiny that often accompanied his every move.

Entering the vast room that housed the king's court chamber, Damon's eyes met the stern gaze of the monarch, perched regally upon a gold throne. The air seemed to constrict, laden with the unmistakable scent of death and blood that seemed to cling to Damon like a haunting aura. With a respectful bow, he addressed the figurehead of authority.

"Your Majesty."

"Sorry, Father, I just returned right from the field," Damon added, a sardonic sneer dancing on his lips. The king, visibly uneasy with his son's presence, braced himself for the inevitable tension that seemed to accompany any interaction with Damon.

"Tomorrow is the night of the unification ball. You must be in attendance," the king declared, his words cutting through the air with an air of command. Damon's head snapped up in genuine surprise, a flicker of discontent momentarily clouding his piercing gaze.

"The unification ball is a party, a peace one. Not a battlefield," Damon asserted, his voice carrying a subtle defiance that underscored his aversion to such gatherings.

"I know. You are still the Prince of Nightfall. You must be in attendance tomorrow night," the king responded, emphasizing the inescapable duty that came with Damon's royal title. "And keep your beast under control. I will be making an important announcement tomorrow," he concluded with a tone of finality, hinting at the underlying precariousness of the situation.

The stern warning was a stark reminder of the delicate balance Damon needed to strike, especially in public settings. Keeping Kronos in check was a necessary. They both recalled a situation a few years back. At a peace meeting, Damon had stormed in rage and killed an ambassador from another kingdom for a statement he'd made. That very act had caused a huge disruption and even caused war.

Everything should be fine if everyone avoided the prince through th event and didn't say anything that would trigger him. Else he couldn't assure anyone of their safety

With a command to leave, Damon turned, acknowledging that he stood before not his father but his king. As he retreated, his mind echoed with conflicting thoughts. He had been sent out to the battlefield years ago, it was his home. But now, all of a sudden, the king sends him back in the middle of conquering another kingdom. And to attend the ball this time? Just what was going on? Damon wondered silently.

He couldn't stand it balls. He hated it, Kronos couldn't stand it and even Zeus bitterly dispised balls. They always ended up in chaos, thanks to him. Growing up, he could always feel the judging stares and glances of people whenever he made an entrance in public. He didn't need their stares, and not with Kronos's present state. He had a feeling this very ball would end in disaster.

Taking off his cape with a fluid motion, Damon strode purposefully toward the farther wing of the palace, where the sanctum of his quarters resided. The grandeur of his entrance belied the underlying tension that seemed to accompany him, an air of unpredictability that clung to the dark prince.

"What's that smell?" Damon growled, a low rumble in his throat, as he entered the wing. His discerning gaze swept across the expanse. To his dismay, this side of the castle didn't align with his usual solitude, as he had demanded. The unsettling scent hung in the air, invading his personal space.

The servants, having completed their tasks in Damon's quarters, were under strict instructions to depart immediately, allowing him the isolation he craved. Yet, an intuitive inkling hinted that an uninvited presence lingered within.

"What smell?" Cedric, questioned with a furrowed brow, mirroring the prince's confusion.

"It's new and strange," Damon uttered, his eyes narrowing as he sought to decipher the elusive fragrance that disrupted the usual atmosphere of his domain.

Cedric hesitated before revealing the source of the scent. "I'm not sure. But a new bride was brought some nights ago."

Damon's countenance shifted abruptly, a palpable coldness descending over him. Despite the concealed features of his face and body, an unmistakable repulsion emanated from him at the mere mention of the word 'bride.' Women, his despised the whole lot of them.

"What bride?" Damon's rage simmered beneath the surface, a tempest threatening to unravel.

Cedric, wise to tread carefully, remained silent, allowing the ominous tension to linger.

"What, the king isn't tired of having dead bodies sent back to him?" Damon mocked with a bitter edge. After the last bride was sent back in a body bag the king had given up on finding a bride for his cursed son for years. Now he had suddenly sent another one. The king also searched for a mate for his demon possessed son hoping and believing that with her Kronos's influence and power would be reduced. Years after he had given up, his efforts were futile

"Keep her far away from me," Damon ordered with a guttural grunt, his disdain for the feminine presence evident. He ascended the stairs toward his chambers, a trail of lingering resentment in his wake.

As he climbed, the alluring aroma that had initially assaulted his senses rekindled. He shook off the distraction, determined to dismiss it from his thoughts.

"We had her kept at the other end. It's far away from your domain," Cedric assured with a respectful bow, an attempt to pacify the restless prince.

Yet, Damon felt an undeniable pull, a magnetic force drawing him toward the other end of the castle. The sweet fragrance, irresistible and tantalizing, tugged at the very core of his being. Ignoring the internal conflict, he proceeded toward the opposite wing, where his chambers awaited.

Restlessness pervaded the prince as room as he paced within his room. Ignoring his Wolf,Zeus as it led him towards the intoxicating scent.