After freshening up, both Jason and Mallory made their way toward the dining room. It took them a while, especially since every time Jason tried to ask a servant where the dining room was, they paled and ran off. Ms. Frigid a.k.a. Ms. Bell, probably warned them there was a demon loose among them, bitch. Jason nearly lost his cool, but Mallory quickly calmed him down and then resorted to using her nose to find their way through the massive-ass castle. She was a bloodhound when it came to her food; and soon enough, they came to a halt in front of another set of golden doors. Who would have guessed? Rich people...

As Jason pushed the doors open, several yells slapped his ears. In front of them stood a humongous table laden with the most delectable dishes Jason's nose had ever smelled. His famished stomach growled out in protest, earning the attention of his fellow guests. There were three people he didn't recognize, but the others he did. Ishmael, Astrid, and Darren were already at the table, feasting on the grand spread before them. However, not even the food quelled the heavy atmosphere that hung over the room. Who died?

"Jason and Mallory! Glad you two could join us," said Ismael while he took a sip of wine from his glass.

Jason didn't miss the dozen sets of eyes following him to the table. Eight royal guards stood along the walls of the room, glaring at him while three heavy, bejeweled strangers stared at him with curious eyes. The last pair, as sharp as a dagger, came from Ms. Frigid. She must have thought that Jason and Mallory would miss out on dinner. Oh hell, no! First, the underworld would crumble into oblivion before Mallory skipped a meal.

Jason was about to place his sexy butt cheeks on one of the fancy chairs when the governess cleared her throat. "It is customary to bow before the King and Queen before joining them."

From the corner of Jason's eye, Astrid rolled her eyes. Jason had to choke down his laugh. He turned to the King. Much to his surprise, the King was much older than he expected. From what Ishmael told him, Killian was an extraordinarily large and muscled man with black hair and eyes as green as a forest during spring time. The man seated at the table could have been Gandalf's brother. His hair was white. The old man had a long beard held together by an ordinate ring, and his enormous beer belly nearly popped out from underneath the table. The King also wore more jewelry than a rapper.

Jason cocked his head to the side while his eyebrows furrowed. "Ishmael? Did you catfish me? The King looks nothing like the man you told me of."

Jason slid into the seat without bowing to the King. Ms. Bell flared her nostrils and huffed out smoke. But he didn't give a crap. However, Mallory bowed before the King and Queen before she joined the table. Goody two shoes...

"It's rude to address your King in such a manner," cried the woman next to the King. A redhead with a golden crown. Her piercing black eyes sent a chill down Jason's spine.

"Be careful with that one... she's a killer," said Cyron, while Jason watched on as the Queen drank from her gilded goblet. Her abnormally large Adam's apple bobbed along as she swallowed the fermented grape drink.

"How do you know?" asked Jason while he picked up his fork. "She looks harmless."

Cyron laughed and said, "My inner demon eyes see through deception. No matter how skillfully she plays the role of a benevolent queen, I can still see through her mask. Let me show you what I mean."

The corners of Jason's eyes began to itch as his eyes lit up. As they did, the Queen's aura burst from her body, lighting the room in a sickening green and blue hue. However, at the top of her head flickered a halo of pure black aura. Death.

"So she killed someone?" Jason asked while shoving a piece of roast beef into his mouth.

Cyron nodded.

Jason's eyes then scanned the King. His aura, however, was light years different from the Queen's. Mostly draped in yellow, orange, and pink. Talk about groovy. Two tendrils of aura reached out from the old man and connected to the Queen and their son's aura. The only sliver of pink which coated the Queen's aura went to her son and not the King.

"She has no love for her mate—"

"Avert your eye, beast!" shouted the Queen with a venomous snap directed toward Jason. "Control yourself!"

The table fell silent. Jason drew back his powers. Their auras faded before his eyes. A smirk spread across his face as Jason reached for his drink. "Aw! Does your highness not like my eyes?" He faked a pout. "But, for years, people told me I had pretty eyes."

The Queen's eyes flashed gold at his mockery, but before she could retaliate, the King's laugh rattled the table. "Isn't this lad just refreshing, my dear?" Jason nearly choked on a baked potato at the amusing sight when the Queen spilled half of her drink on the golden table cloth. She stared at her husband as if he had lost his mind. The King continued, "We have too many sycophants trying to butter us up, shoving their gilded words up our rear ends to win our favor."

Jason took another sip of water before he said, "It's the actions of the man wearing the crown that make him a true king, not just the act of wearing it. Respect is earned and not forced down one's throat."

The Queen's eye narrowed at his statement. "What are you implying?" If the bitch had a dagger in her claws, she would have stabbed Jason in the face with it.

Jason leaned back in his chair. "I don't care about your status. Queen or not... earn my respect before I give it in turn."

"So let me get this straight. You have no respect for your king?"

Jason scoffed and said, "Your highness, I'm a hell hound... The only lord I would bow down to would be the lord of the underworld."

The Queen cringed her nose at his statement. "That's vulgar to even say that in such an esteemed company like mine."

"Lady, with all due respect." Jason leaned closer toward the table and smirked at her. "In five years' time when you die, you'll be begging the same Lord for his forgiveness."

The Queen's face blanched at his statement. The room fell utterly silent.

"How dare you suggest that I'll die—"

"It's not a suggestion." Jason picked up his fork again. "As a demon, I can see your life force and sense its demise. Death comes for us all, and not even the queen of the wolves is exempt from it."

The Queen jumped from her chair and pointed her bony finger at him. Just as she was about to unleash her fury upon him, the dining room's door creaked open and a middle-aged man sauntered into the room.

"Good evening, your highnesses," said the man with a bow.

Jason's head whipped to the man. What he saw nearly made him jump over the table and rip the newcomer to pieces.

"Cyron! Tell me I'm not hallucinating right now," Jason growled out inside of his mind. He had a hard time keeping his rage in check.

Cyron replied, "You're not. It would seem that Alaric already made his next move."

"Sir Olten," said the Queen in a chirpy tone of voice. She threw a last dirty glance at Jason before walking over toward the man. "What news do you have about our son's condition?"

Jason shot a glance at Ishmael, giving him the 'what-did-I-miss' look.

"My King," Ismael said, turning his gaze from Sir Olten and the Queen. "You said earlier that Killian had fallen sick, and that you took over his duties as Alpha King." The old man nodded with a sigh. "May I ask what has befallen him?"

"We've been trying to find out, but we've been unsuccessful thus far. At first, we thought he was poisoned; however, the tests we ran showed negative." The King rubbed his gray mane. "Hopefully, we'll have an answer soon. He's running out of time and I fear for the future."

Jason turned his attention to the man talking to the main bitch in charge. To the naked eye, Sir Olten seemed like your ordinary run-of-the-mill werewolf. He had long brown hair tied into a ponytail with gray sideburns showing off his age. He pushed a pair of round glasses back onto his crooked nose while his brown eyes focused on a clipboard he was reading from.

"Who is he?" Jason asked, nodding over to the newcomer.

The King took another swig from his goblet before he said, "That's our head physician. He's been taking care of my son for the last couple of weeks now."

Jason internalized his scoff. "Yeah, right... and I'm an angel."

How did this imposter get through the castle's security system? The longer Jason glared at the healer, the clearer he could see through the man's deception. The healer, who had everyone fooled, was no man, but a hag in disguise. Selene. The right-hand witch of Alaric stood in front of him, wearing the skin of a poor sap who met his end at her claws.

"Cyron? How is it possible that I can see her actual face flickering through her illusion?" Jason asked. Selene's face flickered intermittently through her disguise like a mirage in the desert.

"We're a demon. It is in our nature to sniff out the innocent so as to judge them before they pass through the gates of Elysium. Not even her magic could deceive us."

"How are we going to handle this? It's clear to me that Alaric has his hand in Killian's poor health. We need to stop her before she kills him."

Cyron yawned and said, "Stay your hand for now. The hands of death haven't reached the castle yet, so we still have time. Selene wouldn't want to kill off the King too soon. Her actions would trigger an investigation or raise suspicions. We also need to keep our eyes on the Queen. She's a walking cliché. The evil stepmother kind."

"How so?"

"Simple. Only the Queen or King has the authority to wave a security check on a visitor to the keep, and if they subjected the healer to one—"

"Selene would have been exposed."

"Correct."

"Jason?" Mallory nudged him on his shoulder, drawing him out of his conversation with Cyron. "Are you coming?"

Jason glanced around the table to see that most of the chairs were vacant. Ishmael and the rest of the group were waiting for him at the door. Jason shot up from his chair and bowed to the King. "Thank you, your highness for your hospitality."

"No need, my dear boy. Good night to you," the King replied with a chuckle while he polished the last morsels off his plate.

"Good night to you too, my King," Jason replied with a smirk when he saw the Queen returning to her seat with a scowl on her face. No doubt infuriated by his refusal to show respect to her as well. Well, she could suck his horn for all he cared.

Jason shoved the chair back to its original place before he joined his friends. They quickly left the dining hall and returned to their rooms, retiring for the night.