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Authors: Felicity Heaton

Claimed by a Demon King (11 page)

BOOK: Claimed by a Demon King
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Loren said something and Olivia stood, and Bleu followed suit, rising to tower over her friend. Sable glanced his way, her gut twisting and heart telling her to follow him from the room and speak to him. She had to know whether they were still friends because she didn’t want things between them to change.

The other elves filed out together with the members of her team. The vampires moved off to one corner of the large library beyond Thorne and his men. Their dark-haired commander looked back at her, a wicked smile curving his lips. He had enjoyed taunting her in front of the others. She stroked the blade strapped to her thigh, staring at him as she imagined acquainting him with it.

A pale slender hand curled around her arm and drew her aside. Sable glared down at it and then up into the purple eyes of its owner, expecting to find Bleu. It was Loren.

“That vampire is not one to trifle with,” Loren whispered and she glanced back at the man in question, finding him still staring at her. “He is extremely vicious and dangerous, with not only a reputation but a history of carnage to back it up.”

Little wonder the guy was the commander of the First Legion in the Preux Chevaliers corps.

All the more reason to keep away from him.

Since meeting Loren, she had learned about the Preux Chevaliers. They were the sons of the pureblood vampire families, or aristocrats as they loved to call themselves. Each son served centuries in Hell as a Preux Chevalier, bloodying their claws in the wars that were a constant fixture in that realm.

Because they were of pure vampire blood, they were strong enough to withstand the impact of the weak daylight in Thorne’s and many of the demon realms and other kingdoms in Hell besides Loren’s.

No wonder the vampires liked it in Hell. They could move around at any time without risking going crispy, could fight all they liked, and were a law unto themselves, free to drink victims dry and kill without consequences such as Archangel putting them on their naughty list.

“My prince, we should see to it that the men begin their daily training routine,” Bleu said, dipping his head at the same time, and Sable wanted to slap him.

He was ignoring her and it hurt.

They had become friends and she didn’t have many of those in her life. Olivia was the only person she had considered as a friend for the past ten years. Bleu and Loren had achieved that exclusive position in the short time she had known them, and now Bleu was angry with her and without reason.

She hadn’t betrayed him and had never felt anything beyond friendship and a smattering of lust-filled moments. Those had been a product of loneliness. She had seen what Olivia had and she had been envious, and Bleu had been around. She had considered losing herself in him, but every time she had, Thorne had popped into her head and she had wanted him instead.

Loren nodded and escorted Olivia away, following Bleu to the doors. Bleu waited for his prince to pass him and then looked back at her. Sable stared across the room at him, lost for words and aching inside. Why had he ruined a good thing? Why couldn’t he have left things the way they had been? She had liked them that way and he had wrecked them.

Bleu’s purple gaze darkened and he lowered it to his feet, heaved a sigh and walked out of the door.

Sable watched him go, struggling to deny the pressing need to follow and talk to him. She wasn’t sure that he would understand even if she told him that she hadn’t chosen Thorne over him. She had no intention of becoming Thorne’s mate.

A quiet part of her that she had buried deep reared its head and whispered that she wanted to give herself to Thorne though. She secretly wanted what Olivia and Loren shared, and none of the excuses she kept making were cutting it anymore. That part of her was growing stronger each day, with each minute that she passed in Thorne’s company and came to know him better.

He was honourable, handsome, strong and could be charming when he paused to think things through rather than running with his instincts.

Her gaze sought and found him still speaking with Fargus.

“Go on and get everyone to run through the training routine. I need to speak with Olivia about something,” Sable said to Evan and he nodded and left the room.

The vampires left after him and the werewolves decided to exit through the other door in the room. She couldn’t blame them. She intended to avoid the vampires as much as possible too.

Sable meandered through the room to the three dimensional map she had spotted on entering the library. She stood over it, her gaze scanning the topography of Hell and the borders carefully marked on it. The Third Realm didn’t occupy the best position. It shared a border with the First, Fourth, Fifth and Seventh Realms and a section of blacked-out land. That land curved around all of the demon realms. Apparently, it belonged to the Devil.

She scanned the kingdoms, moving across from right to left, from the Seventh Realm through the Third and then the First, to the elven kingdom. It was large and shared a border with the First and Second Realms and also an area labelled as the Free Kingdom. Loren had mentioned that place. Kordula had come from that land.

There were smaller kingdoms beyond it and the elven one, none of them labelled. Olivia had told her that gods and goddesses had realms in Hell, and so did other species such as fallen angels and creatures that sounded more myth than reality.

Familiar heat burned through her, but cold swept close to its heels. She looked across to her right, towards where Thorne had been, and was now gone. Fargus stood there talking to two demon males. His dark crimson gaze shifted to her.

Her wrist burned.

Sable rubbed it, trying to relieve the fierce ache. She needed to get Olivia to look at it. It had played up several times since her arrival in the Third Realm. She had a naturally fast healing ability, much quicker than all the other hunters at Archangel. If she had knocked it or injured it in a fight, it should have healed by now.

The other two demons glanced her way. The burning sensation in her wrist increased and this time her gift triggered. A prickling sensation spread through her limbs. A warning. She palmed the blade strapped to her thigh and obeyed her instincts. She turned away from the demons and exited through the door the werewolves had used.

Sable marched at double time along the long hallway and then took the steps down to the first floor two at a time, not slowing until she had placed a good distance between her and the library.

Her head ached and she rubbed her temples, hoping to alleviate it. She hadn’t caught much sleep and the clarity that Thorne’s gift of coffee had given her was beginning to wear off. Maybe she had been imagining the threat in the library. She had no doubt that Fargus knew she was Thorne’s fated female and that meant the male wouldn’t dare try anything with her.

She scrubbed a hand over her face, trying to shake her bad feeling, and turned down the hallway that led to her room.

Olivia and Loren were about to enter their quarters.

“Liv,” Sable hollered and her friend paused at the threshold and smiled at her. “Wait up.”

She hurried over to them and Loren looked disappointed.

“Not interrupting some afternoon delight, am I?” Sable grinned when he blushed, cleared his throat and placed his hands on Olivia’s waist.

Olivia looked over her shoulder at him.

He gently squeezed her and dropped a kiss on her lips. “I will go with Bleu to see to my men.”

“Wait,” Sable blurted before he could turn away and then wasn’t sure what to say when he looked expectantly at her. She blew out her breath and her shoulders sagged. “Tell Bleu I’m sorry.”

Loren arched a single black eyebrow. “You do not need to apologise to him, Sable.”

“I do. I just feel that maybe I sent out the wrong signals or something… I just don’t want this to escalate. I don’t want two grown men acting like idiots because of me.”

Loren smiled. “Understood. I will relay your apology to him and will try to adjust his behaviour before this evening’s gathering.”

“Just… at least convince him to start speaking to me again. I feel like I’ve lost a friend… and I don’t like it.”

Olivia frowned and touched Sable’s arm, and she was grateful for her friend’s concern and comfort.

Loren heaved a sigh. “Bleu can be a handful. I will speak with him.”

The dark glint in his eyes warned Sable that it wouldn’t be a nice heart to heart between him and Bleu. She didn’t want to get Bleu into trouble with Loren or put a strain on their relationship too.

“Go easy on him, Big Guy. Just tell him I’m sorry and that it hurts when he doesn’t speak to me and acts like I don’t exist.” Sable held his gaze, hoping he would see in her eyes that she didn’t want him to berate Bleu or force him to be nice to her.

Loren nodded. “Understood.”

He pressed another kiss to Olivia’s lips and then walked along the corridor towards the stairs down to the great hall.

The moment he was out of sight, Sable turned to Olivia. “I totally interrupted his afternoon delight, didn’t I?”

Olivia giggled. “He can wait… I would rather hear about you and Thorne. What’s happening there?”

Sable wasn’t convinced her friend preferred gossip over hot sex with her mate but she followed Olivia into her room anyway. “Nothing. Nothing at all… and that’s how it’s going to stay.”

Her friend looked disappointed now. “A wise woman once told me that I was crazy for trying to let a wonderful man walk out of my life.”

“I think that woman might have been certifiably crazy herself.” Sable crossed the room to the threadbare armchairs beside the large stone fireplace to her right and sat down on one. “Besides, it’s a little different.”

“How?” Olivia sat opposite her.

“Thorne is a demon… and then there’s Bleu.” She stood again, unable to keep still while she was talking about the two definitely certifiable males.

She paced the room, striding back and forth between the foot of the large four-poster bed and the armchairs.

“Ah, so you’ve finally noticed that Bleu has the hots for a little Sable action.”

Sable tossed her a glare. “I was blind not to notice it… thinking back on it… the guy followed me around like I was a bitch in heat.”

“He just likes you. He’s been like it since he set eyes on you.”

She froze. “He’s not…”

She couldn’t bring herself to say it.

Olivia shook her head and relief beat sweet and swift through Sable.

“Loren doesn’t think that he’s your mate. He thinks Bleu is just horny and wants more than fighting with you.”

Sable groaned and flopped onto the four-poster bed on her back. She didn’t want to acknowledge that Loren and Olivia had been discussing her and Bleu in that way. It was wrong on so many levels.

She stretched her arms out across the silky furs beneath her and a vision of Thorne laying her down on her bed like this, covering her body with his big muscular one, and kissing her left her aching for some afternoon delight of her own.

She really needed to get her thoughts off both men.

She tilted her head and looked at her right wrist and the tattoo on it. The ache had dulled to a throb now. She flexed her fingers and rotated her hand, trying to detect if it was still injured.

“You okay?” Olivia said and crossed the room to her.

“My wrist is bothering me. It aches from time to time.” Sable sat up and rubbed it. “I probably knocked it.”

Olivia sat sideways on the bed beside her and took hold of her wrist, bringing it to her. “Let me see.”

Sable kept still while Olivia checked her wrist over, watching her friend carefully rotate it and feel her bones.

“No bruising and your tendons seem fine.” Olivia looked up at her. “Does it hurt when I do this?”

She pressed into the delicate flesh on the inside of Sable’s wrist and Sable shook her head.

“Press, prod, poke… no problem. It just aches sometimes… like a burning.” Sable took her wrist back and rubbed it. “It’s not so bad now, but it really hurt earlier in the meeting room.”

“I’ll strap it up. Could be you just banged it. I can’t feel any problems with it… but keep an eye on it, okay?” Olivia rose, went to one of her black holdalls and opened it. She took out a roll of crepe bandage and came back to Sable.

Sable held her arm out and Olivia strapped it up, wrapping the cream bandage around her hand and then up her wrist and back again. She tried to keep her thoughts away from Bleu and Thorne, but it was impossible. She wanted Bleu as her friend but knew that he couldn’t just let go of his desire for her and extinguish it. The way he had looked at her during the meeting warned her that he wasn’t going to give up, not even if she asked him to, or begged him.

He was going to pursue her.

He was going to come to blows with Thorne again and her gut said it would be sooner rather than later, and nothing she did would stop it.

And Thorne?

Sable picked at the bandage around her wrist.

She wanted Thorne as more than a friend but she wasn’t Olivia. She lived her life on the frontline and death chased her every night she went out on patrol, waiting for the moment she slipped up or took on more than she could handle. She didn’t have a quiet position within Archangel as Olivia did and she didn’t want one either. She didn’t want to give up her career, a calling that she relished and loved, and Thorne would demand that of her if she ever consented to be his mate.

“You okay?” Olivia’s soft voice broke into her dire thoughts and she shook her head and pressed her hand to it.

“Tired… having man trouble from Hell.” Sable tried to smile. “Hung over.”

“Get some rest.” Olivia squeezed her shoulder.

Sable nodded. Maybe a nap would help clear her head and give her the strength to face the gathering tonight. Evan could handle the training sessions without her. She hated giving him any opportunity to prove himself better commander material, but she needed some rest. Just an hour would do. She would catch up with him and the others later, after her nap.

She stood, bent and hugged her friend, and then made her way back to her room. She closed the door behind her, strode to the bed and flopped onto her front, exhaling hard the moment she hit the soft furs.

BOOK: Claimed by a Demon King
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