Claimed by a Demon King (18 page)

“Thank you,” she said and took the mug, inhaled the delicious aroma, and sighed.

“I sent an order to the kitchen to brew some while everyone gathered. Is it to your taste?” Thorne eyed the mug.

Sable blew on it and then sipped. It tasted even better than it smelled.

“It’s perfect,” she said and tried to hide her smile when he puffed his bare chest out.

Bleu appeared on the other side of her.

“Oh,” Olivia said and Sable looked over at him and her eyes flew wide.

He had a mug too, and a black eye and a split lip, and a very ugly bruise on his jaw.

And now that she saw him, she swung back to Thorne and noticed the bruise and cut on his jaw and the one darting across his left eyebrow.

“Seriously?” She shook her head and scowled at them both. Thorne continued to grin. He thought he had gained a victory over Bleu. Sable would see to that. She turned to Bleu and took the mug of coffee from him too. “Thank you. It was very sweet of you.”

Bleu grinned now.

She knew she shouldn’t encourage him, but she couldn’t let either male think they could score points with her by hurting the other.

Sable poured the coffees back and forth in the two mugs, mingling the contents, and then handed one to Olivia. Loren frowned and looked as if he was considering teleporting to get his female coffee rather than letting her have one that had been brought by Thorne and Bleu. If he dared, Sable was going to scream.

Thankfully, he had better control of himself than the other two idiots standing on either side of her and didn’t protest as Olivia sipped the coffee and smiled.

“It’s good.” She looked at both Bleu and Thorne. “Although next time, could you teleport to a Starbucks and get me a grande skimmed caramel macchiato?”

Sable laughed. Thorne and Bleu looked thoroughly unimpressed. Loren muttered something about his mate’s obsession with desiring that drink every other morning.

Fargus came over and said something to Thorne in the demon language. Thorne nodded, his expression turning grave, and responded. Fargus saluted and walked away, shouting what sounded like orders.

“It does not sound good,” Loren said and she looked up at him.

“What doesn’t sound good?” Sable was beginning to hate her inability to understand the demon tongue. She really needed to study it. Did Rosetta Stone do a demon language course?

Maybe Loren could teach her, when he wasn’t busy with Olivia or running an entire kingdom. She didn’t dare ask Bleu or Thorne.

Thorne heaved a sigh and his shoulders settled lower than before, as if the weight of the world, or at least his kingdom, had just come crashing down on them.

“Demons from the Fifth Realm have breached the border again and have already killed many in a village there. We must go and force them back.” Thorne went to turn away from her and she caught his wrist.

He looked back over his shoulder at her.

“They want to lure you out. You can’t give them what they want. You need to stay here. If you fall… your kingdom falls, Thorne.” She knew she had made a terrible mistake the moment the words left her lips.

His irises blazed crimson, burning like fire, and his horns curled. His pointed ears flared back and he growled down at her and snatched his arm from her grip.

“Do not tell me to cower in my castle, Mortal. Do not think to lecture me about the safety of my realm… I have been fighting for this realm for nearly three thousand years, as have many others here, and if I am destined to die for it, then so be it. I would sooner die on the battlefield than live in shame.”

He flashed his fangs, turned his back on her and stormed away.

“Thorne.” Sable reached for him and Loren grabbed her arm, pulling her back. She looked up at him, into his vivid purple eyes, and whispered, “I didn’t mean to upset him.”

“He knows.” Loren slowly released her arm and ran his hand through his short black hair, tousling the longer lengths on top. “But you must think before you speak. You desire to protect him and his kingdom, but such words can wound.”

She nodded and swore she wouldn’t say such a thoughtless thing again as she sipped her coffee. She would have hated it if he had dared to tell her to remain in the castle, away from the battle, showing no faith in her abilities as a warrior or her strength.

She fought the urge to go to him and apologise, to tell him that she would never belittle him in such a manner again and search his eyes for a sign that he had forgiven her and wouldn’t hold her careless words against her. They hadn’t been born of a belief that he was weak. They had been born of worry, fear that he would end up hurt or worse, and the startling epiphany that she wouldn’t be able to bear it if anything happened to him.

Because no matter how hard she had fought it and tried to deny it, she felt something for him, something so deep and consuming that it controlled her at times and she knew she would never be the same again.

For the first time in her life, she felt dependent upon someone, and she wasn’t sure how to process it.

“Gather your men and prepare them for teleportation to the battle,” Bleu said and Sable nodded again, miles away in thoughts of Thorne and how dramatically she had changed since the night he had come crashing into her life.

“I’ll get ready too.” Olivia took Sable’s empty mug from her and went to move and Loren caught her arm.

“You, Ki’ara, are to remain here.”

Olivia yanked her arm free. “Whoa, no… now wait a minute. What about that whole speech you just gave… I’m not staying in the castle. You want me to toss you a Thorne speech? I’m heading out with you all.”

Sable really didn’t want to do this, but she said, “Got to agree with him, Liv. We need you here, getting the infirmary ready for any wounded, and we need Loren to be able to concentrate and he sure as hell won’t be able to if he thinks you’re in danger.”

Olivia pouted and settled her hands on her hips, pulling her dark blue t-shirt down. “I want it noted that I’m not happy about this and he,” she jerked her thumb at her mate, “isn’t getting sex for a week.”

Loren looked horrified and Sable thought he might actually reconsider his decision.

“But you do agree it’s the sensible course of action?” Sable prompted before he could speak and her friend huffed and then forced a nod. Loren growled. Olivia turned her nose up at him. The man didn’t have anything to worry about. Sable had no doubt that Olivia wouldn’t last five seconds when it came to refusing Loren a little naughty time. “Good. Bleu or Loren will bring you to the battlefield when we’ve driven the demons away and you can stabilise the wounded before they’re teleported back. Now give your mate a big kiss and tell him what a wonderful warrior he is, and we’ll be off.”

A familiar burn went through Sable and she turned to look for Thorne.

He towered over her, barely a few inches between them. She opened her mouth to apologise and it came out as a squeak as he grabbed her, pulled her flush against him and kissed her hard. She held on to his huge biceps as she tried to catch up.

He set her back on her feet before she could and she wobbled, feeling a little dazed. He grasped her shoulders and hunkered down so they were eye level.

“You are a wonderful warrior,” he whispered, his expression soft but serious, as if he truly believed what he said with all of his heart.

With that, the world rushed past her in a cold blur and she clutched hold of Thorne’s arms and unleashed a barrage of demon greetings that she hoped were as rude as Bleu had told her they were.

The world reappeared and settled around her, and Thorne grinned down at her. “You have been learning my language.”

She slapped his shoulder and he shrugged it off, looking pleased for some reason.

“What is
wrong
with you?” she said.

His grin widened. “You only slapped my shoulder when I kissed you this time. I call that positive progress.”

Sable considered punching him and then thought the better of it when demons appeared around her, all of them with a vampire in tow. The elves appeared next, teleporting the werewolves and her team with them.

Bleu and Loren appeared last.

Their skin-tight black scaly armour flowed over their bare chests, completing itself and turning their fingers into deadly talons. Loren’s helmet formed as the scales swiftly crawled up his neck. The helmet flared up from a point above his nose and swept back into serrated curved spikes like vicious dragon’s horns, resembling a crown. He kept the lower half open but Sable knew that would change once he entered the battle. Slats would come out from beside his cheeks, forming a mask over his nose, mouth and jaw, completing his armour and rendering him almost invulnerable. She had learned from Bleu that their armour was only weak against the same material, meaning normal swords couldn’t penetrate it.

She wanted her own set of armour just like it but lacked the psychic powers required to control it.

Bleu’s lips compressed and he looked as if he was chewing hard on a wasp as his own helmet covered his head, twin horns curving from the back of it, and the mask swept down and concealed the lower half of his face.

“Prepare,” Kincaid hollered and the werewolves stripped off as one.

Sable swiftly turned her back but many of the females in her team ogled them, and a couple even dared a wolf whistle.

That received a very arrogant-sounding howl in response.

Thorne stared down at her. Sable tried to ignore him but her eyes drifted to him. At least he was dressed now, wearing thick mahogany leather vambraces around his forearms over his white shirt, and heavy boots.

He held his hand out, palm facing down, and Sable knew what was coming. It had impressed her when she had first seen him do it but she had hidden it then, and tried to hide it now as the glowing red pommel of a sword rose out of the dark dirt below him. A long leather-bound hilt followed it and then a wide steel blade. It continued to rise, the blade barely tapering, as if it would never end. When the pommel reached Thorne’s palm, he turned his hand and ran it down the black hilt, curled his fingers around it and pulled the point of the blade from the ground.

It stood almost as tall as his chin and he swung the heavy blade up onto his shoulder with ease.

A scream rent the silence.

Thorne growled and teleported, and many of the demons disappeared too. Loren grabbed her before Bleu could reach her and she clung to him as the world disappeared, whirling around her, and then reappeared again. Loren released her and instantly sprang into action, attacking a large male with painted black horns as he ran after a screaming female.

It was a village.

Square black stone huts with thatched roofs surrounded her, some of them on fire. More fires burned in braziers, illuminating the village but throwing the landscape around her into darkness. The ground beneath her feet was as black as night but wet, trampled into an undulating path between the buildings. It smelled of blood.

Bleu appeared beside her and swept his hand over his black blade, transforming into a long spear. He growled as he sprinted after Loren, teleporting from time to time to keep up with his prince. The elves appeared around them, dropping off her team and then flying into action. Their skin-tight black scaly armour shone in the firelight as they went to war on the demons, battling them with spears, bows, blades and telekinetic blows that sent their enemies spinning through the air in different directions.

“With me!” Sable shouted above the noise of the battle raging around them in the village and her team fell in, their weapons at the ready. “Evan, take the first squad and break through to that building.”

She pointed towards a larger hut at the end of the corridor that ran between the thatched black stone ones around her. There were women gathered there, frantically fighting, and she had spotted at least one young boy with them.

Evan nodded and was moving with half the team a second later, hacking at the demons who stood in his way.

Sable scoured the battle for Thorne but couldn’t find him. Smoke from the fires clouded parts of the village and made it impossible for her to get a clear view of the fight. The land banked downhill from where she stood and the buildings thinned around a hundred metres away. It was her best shot at making a swift run for the larger building, avoiding the thickest area of the battle.

“The rest of you, try to keep up. We’re going around back.”

She sprinted between two buildings, heading downhill, and banked right on the fourth avenue that led towards the main building. Demon males crowded the narrow corridor, busily setting fire to the thatch on the roofs of the homes.

Their heads swung her way and they grinned and said something to each other.

Sable ran straight at them, ducking as they swung huge blades at her and slashing across their calves and shins with her short sword. Her team followed her lead, disabling the demons. She didn’t have time to play with them. It was imperative that they reach the main village building to assist the women and protect their children. Nothing was going to stand in her way.

A meaty hand grasped the back of her neck. Sable grimaced as claws cut into her throat and dropped her blade, her hands flying up over her shoulders to grab the demon’s arms. She pulled hard on them, fighting to break free.

Several of her team turned back. She shook her head.

“Go! Get to the women and children,” Sable hollered to Anais, a blonde huntress more than capable of leading the team in her stead.

Anais nodded.

Sable slipped her fingers through one of the rings on her throwing knives. She pulled it free as her men left her behind, twirled it in her grip and rammed it over her shoulder, hoping her aim was true.

The demon holding her roared and his grip loosened. Sable pressed the soles of her boots into his legs and kicked off him, breaking free. She hit the dirt, rolled and came to her feet.

A silver arc cut straight towards her. She gasped and hit the deck, landing flat on her back, and then pressed her hands into the dirt above her shoulders and flipped back onto her feet. She grabbed her blade from the ground and swung hard, cutting through the wrist of the second demon male.