Taming His Demon Lover-Chapter 21: The center of attention

Guarded, Andras schooled his facial expression, to look like a blank slate with no emotions and said monotonously, "what feelings would I have in such a short time, Zagan?"

Zagan was not fooled; he knew Andras for years and cared for him like an older brother.

"Earlier, you almost broke your own neck running across the wet floor to catch him. Then you were so gentle in your treatment of the boy."

"I would have done the same for you."

Amused, Zagan said provokingly, "you would have gone out of your way to catch me naked?"

Andras nearly spewed from the lips and almost would have burnt himself with the hot broth as the disturbing image of a naked Zagan popped into his mind he shuddered.

"Fun and jokes aside, he is my partner for at least the next year. I feel responsible for him and I won’t allow him to be mistreated under my care."

"That wasn’t mistreatment, that was him evolving and becoming a contender for the Summer Court throne, you do know what that entails." Zagan was resolute and adamant in his conviction, "You must fulfill your part of the vow and cut ties with him at the end of the year."

"I know what is expected of me as the ruler of Hell’s Island."

"Just wanted to see where your priorities lay beside he just turned eighteen. There is a lifetime of difference between the two of you, may I remind you that you are seven years older than him?"

"Zagan—"

Andras was not ready for this verbal attack and was taken aback by his friend’s bluntness.

Even though he was drinking a clear beef broth without any meat or vegetables, he felt a lump in his throat.

He almost choked on his response and nearly couldn’t breathe because of his friend’s provocation.

Why was he reacting to Zagan’s prodding so much if there was no truth to his words, for once Andras couldn’t help but doubt himself.

Changing tactics Zagan hesitated, "are you sure you have no feelings for the boy? He really looked angelic when he got his wings for the first time."

"...."

That was the last straw Andras lost his appetite and pushed the half empty soup bowl aside.

He looked tense while sitting upright in his seat, even Zagan felt the pressure in the room intensify and he knew better than to push Andras any further.

After bathing the groom wore solid black with no embellishments which made his silver hair stand out more.

He went ahead to the deck where the wedding was going to take place.

Outside, the deck was sparkling clean and the bright summer sun stood high in the sky.

All the sailors and servants stood together, freshly bathed, hair groomed and neatly dressed for the occasion.

Under the watchful eyes of Fagan, they kept their voices hushed as they squabbled amongst themselves while Fagan kept order by looking grim and foreboding.

Over fifty plus guests were on deck, and the mood of the atmosphere was conflicting between doubt and pessimism.

Many were shocked to hear that their master, a widow that vowed never to marry again after the death of his first wife, was actually going through with this marriage.

Some were taking bets on his mistress reaction to the news while others were taking bets on how long the marriage would last.

"Quiet!" roared Fagan when it looked like the sailors were getting ready to brawl. "They are getting ready to begin."

Before they made their way up the stairs Malachi grabbed Robin’s shoulders and shook him reassuringly.

"You outshine everyone today and you are worthy to be the center of attraction. Queen Tiandra could not be here but she made sure that you are suitably attired as befitting someone of your royal station. Although Lord Andras doesn’t like to speak about it he is also descended from the fae royalty of the Winter Court, you both are equally matched. Now go out and make your future husband proud. Remember who you are and never hold your head down under the weight of the stares, chin up."

"I’m ready."

What would Robin do without Malachi’s words of encouragement, he nodded and walked in tandem with Malachi.

They made their way outside to the deck and immediately all eyes were on them and just like Malachi asked, Robin held his head proud and high.

Robin had no family or friends amongst this gathering and his years of isolation made him very nervous in the face of the large audience.

His anxiety rose and he hoped he wouldn’t mess up while saying his vows to Lord Andras.

The rays of sunshine and the smell of salt from the sea, felt familiar and alien at the same time.

Malachi led him to a podium where Lord Andras and a few unfamiliar faces awaited them.

Voices rippled through the crowd.

"Do you see the way Lord Andras looked at the boy?"

"Robin acts like he’s better than us."

Muffled voices buffeted by the wind hovered in the early morning air as the group gathered to watch the exchange of vows.

There was another person standing idly in the background who watched the embrace between the master and the boy.

Watched with bitter jealousy from the sidelines, looking calm on the outside but inside he raged with envy and lust.

He despised everything about the half breed and master and wanted to rule Hell’s Island himself.

Now he felt disgust with himself as he took in the boy’s beauty.

How could anyone want that demon spawn?

He felt that Lord Mulciber would only defile the boy’s innocence.

When he had first laid eyes on Robin, he thought Andras had taken in another orphaned beauty.

Another mouth to feed and drain the resources of Hell’s Island.

The more he stared at the young man the more he desired Robin for himself.

Anything that was Lord Andras he wanted to destroy, he only wanted the brat because Lord Mulciber was fascinated with him.

He wanted Lord Mulciber’s feelings to grow for the boy and then he would take Robin from him.

His plan was to befriend the boy, treat him tenderly until Robin grew to trust him,

When he was done with Robin, his mistreatment of the young man would drive Lord Mulciber to madness.

Only then would he be satisfied with seeing the arrogant Andras humbled before he killed him.

Moving with intention, slowly the traitor inched his way to the front of the crowd.