The Celestial Kiss by Belle Celine

the others at the table, she might have passed for a vampire.  Certainly with that pinched look, she seemed far more likely a candidate than I.
    Janna nodded for me to continue further into the room and then slipped away, leaving me to walk down the aisle toward the group of people at the end of the room.  As I walked, I was aware that every eye turned toward me, so I straightened, walking with purpose and the remnants of dignity I still clung to, smoothing the skirt of my dress.  It wasn’t until I stopped just before them all that the man in the middle seat looked up at me.
    In that moment, I realized what Janna had meant about the king being more tolerable than his sons, for I recognized his sparkling eyes, a feature he’d passed onto Janna.    More astonishing, however, was the consideration there.  It was not a look that burned with hatred, but one that appraised me with simple curiosity—one that seemed almost peaceful.  “Well,” he spoke, and to my surprise his voice was strong, not weak and rickety as his body would suggest.  He smiled, though I couldn’t decide if it was for his benefit or mine.  “You must be our guest.”
    “Lilith.”  My voice was terse.  I didn’t like being referred to as a guest, as if it were commonplace to invite friends over for cocktails and then chain them up in the dark.  For all I knew, they did.
    “You possess the name of a demon.”  He informed me.  “But surely not the qualities of one?”
    I ignored the question, considering his gaunt face and relative pallor.  Of course I knew I was the namesake of a legendary demon.  Lilith the evil one, the demon who refused Adam, tempted Eve with the apple and birthed original sin.  No doubt my father had hoped I would have a legacy as warped as hers.
    Janna stood on the opposite side of me, with her hands clasped neatly before her.  I noticed the gold bracelets glittering at her wrists, the understated way the boys stood together in attire that was an odd combination of formal and casual.  They were royalty, though who had bestowed that title upon them, I couldn’t imagine.  It explained why they felt they could treat me as they did.
    I danced around the question, uncomfortable with the presence of so many people watching me, their dark eyes passing judgement.  The king nodded, seemingly letting my silence answer his question.  “What brought you here?”
    For a moment, the question caught me off guard.  "What brought me here?"  In case he couldn't detect it in my voice, my face must have shown my confusion.  Though there was nothing funny about the question, I laughed.  "A werewolf.  That one, actually."  I jerked my thumb in the direction of his sons, waiting for the cynical look.
    Instead, his eyes shifted and he looked at the men, standing together on the side of the room, observant.  Julius’ arms were crossed, the epitome of casual.  James, however, looked uneasy, wringing his hands before him.  "Why did you bring her here, James?"
    His discomfort gave me a tiny bit of satisfaction.  At least I wasn’t the only one under fire; every eye in the room turned to James.
    "Father?"  James asked, confirming what I had suspected.  But the fleeting triumph that his persecution had given me evaporated instantaneously.  If he was the son of the King (whatever he was the King of), he most certainly wouldn’t be held to this level of scrutiny long.  Whatever he planned to do, no matter how sadistic, could probably be dismissed with a wave of his father’s bony hand.
    "Why did you bring an enemy into our home, James?"  The king’s voice was firm but fair, equal parts discipline and reason.  But it didn’t mean much to me as I realized just what this man was the King of. 
    I’d made a very grave mistake in thinking that the werewolf who’d attacked me would be alone in his curse, the favored son of a man who’d used his wealth and affluence to make excuses for him.  This wasn’t just a man