Claimed by a Demon King (35 page)

His little huntress loved him, although she still would not admit it.

“I would never leave you behind, Sable. Your place is at my side.” He was pushing it. He knew that. She was liable to react badly to such commanding words, ones that subtly reminded her that she was his mate and hinted that he wasn’t content with their relationship as it stood.

He wanted to claim her.

He was doing his best to be patient, but now he had sampled all of her, knew her right down to her soul, and the need to mate with her and make her his forever was only growing stronger.

He wasn’t sure how much longer he could deny it.

The door behind him opened. “You’re back… and all in one piece. Did it go well?”

“It did. Thank you.” Sable stepped away from him, turning her golden gaze on Rosalind. “Aurora believes her master might have been my father. I’m going to speak with her again about it soon, and about what powers I might have.”

“Speaking of powers. I made you a present. Come on.” The petite blonde witch beckoned Sable with a jerk of her chin and shuffled back into the house.

Bleu sighed, eyeing the cramped building with loathing, and followed Sable inside, hunching his shoulders to avoid banging his head.

Thorne watched him and realised that since waking in Sable’s apartment at dawn, holding her tucked close against him, her bare body moulded to his, he no longer felt any animosity towards the elf male. The way she acted around Thorne, the way she looked at him, and how she responded to every touch he dared, told him that she was his now. All he had to do was somehow convince her to go through with the claiming and become his forever.

He ducked and followed the tiny corridor to the open area where Rosalind and Sable sat opposite each other in front of the fireplace, deep in discussion. Bleu stood off to one side, his rich purple eyes documenting everything in the room but never once settling on Sable. The male knew better than to risk provoking him. Perhaps Bleu’s behaviour was also responsible for his lack of need to kill him. Had Sable spoken to Bleu while he had been unconscious?

Had she told him of her feelings?

Thorne wanted to ask him whether she had but held his tongue. Sable would tell him when she was ready. If he forced Bleu to tell him, she would be angry with him, and he would be another step further away from claiming her.

“I made this for you.” Rosalind held something out to Sable. A silver cuff. “It’s enchanted. It should help you control your power.”

“Thank you.” Sable took the delicate silver cuff and opened it. Thorne walked to the back of the dark green armchair and peered over her shoulder at it. The inside of the three-inch-wide metal band had symbols carved into it, covering most of the surface. Sable placed her right wrist into it and closed it. The latch clicked.

“It suits you,” Thorne said and Sable looked up at him and smiled as she held her arm up and turned it this way and that, flashing the silver cuff.

“Snazzy, huh?” Sable tapped it, bringing his attention to the elegant scrollwork and the cross on the front that matched her mark. “Bonus is that if I’m ever strapped for cash, I could pawn it.”

Rosalind looked mortified.

“She jests.” Thorne reassured her with a smile. “Her sense of humour can be an acquired taste.”

Sable frowned at him and then turned away, facing Rosalind again. “I was kidding though. I’ve never been one to accessorise, but this is pretty cool.”

Thorne couldn’t stop himself from imagining Sable dressed in nothing but the silver cuff and how it would feel cool against his skin while her flesh felt hot.

He felt her gaze come back to him, heating his blood to a thousand degrees, and shifted to relieve the tight ache in his leather trousers.

“Did you make progress on the pathways?” Thorne tried to ignore the way Sable stared at him. It was difficult, especially when he picked up a flutter of desire in her emotions.

Bleu shattered her hold on him by coming to stand beside him. “Do we have an entry point?”

Rosalind shook her head. “I probed all of the pathways into your realm but there are layers of spells in place, going deep. I can’t unravel them all from here.”

Thorne frowned. “Is there a better chance of breaching the barrier around my realm than reopening the portal pathways?”

“Probably. The spell would likely be single or maybe triple layer at the most. It would be quicker than attempting to negate or reverse all the spells blocking the pathways.”

“Then we shall attempt to breach the barrier.”

She looked uneasy. “But I can’t do that from here. I need to know what spells were used… oh… you’re not suggesting… you mean… I have a ticket to Hell with my name on it?”

Thorne nodded. “It is most pleasant at this time of year.”

“I really don’t think it is. Listen, I want to help, I really do… but going to Hell? That isn’t really on my bucket list.” Rosalind toyed with the black lacing down the front of her dress. “Isn’t there another witch you can hit up for help?”

He shook his head this time and folded his arms across his chest, and her eyes widened. He lowered his arms to his sides again, realising that she was interpreting his body language and didn’t like it one bit. He wasn’t going to force her to help him, but he would not give up until she agreed to it.

“Thorne and Bleu will keep us both safe, and we’ll test the barrier from the First Realm. It’s okay there, apparently.” Sable leaned forwards and Rosalind’s gaze fell to her, her blue eyes still enormous. Sable reached over and touched Rosalind’s hand on her knee. “I was pretty freaked out the first time I went to Hell too, and it wasn’t by choice, but the realm I went to was nice and no one tried to hurt me.”

What realm had she been forcibly taken to?

Guilt flickered in Bleu’s purple eyes. Thorne growled at him, desire to throttle the male instantly surging through him, so powerful that he couldn’t tamp it down or contain his rage. The male had abducted Sable, taking her against her will to the elf realm.

Sable sighed and looked over her shoulder at him. “He took me there because Loren had taken Olivia there. It was just to keep me with my friend.”

Thorne still couldn’t forgive him for doing such a thing and frightening Sable in the process.

Bleu muttered in the demon tongue, “I already apologised to her. I do not need to apologise to you too.”

Thorne flashed his fangs at the bastard elf and folded his arms across his bare chest.

“Just ignore them. They do this a lot.” Sable turned back to the witch. “The First Realm is safe, Rosalind. I promise. It’s neutral and isn’t at war with anyone, and it borders part of the Third Realm.”

Rosalind looked up at him, her fair eyebrows raised high on her forehead. “She speaks the truth?”

Thorne nodded. “Always. We will petition the First King and ask for access to the land along the border. I swear upon my kingdom that I will keep you safe while you are in my care, Rosalind.”

She still looked uneasy. She picked at the laces on her dress, looked around her small living room, and then sighed.

“Swear upon your fated one.”

Thorne stiffened and growled at her. “No.”

He would have gladly made such an oath once, and had done barely a few weeks ago, but now that his mate was within his grasp, he wasn’t willing to risk the Fates taking her from him.

Rosalind frowned at him and then it melted away and her blue eyes fell to Sable. “I understand.”

Her gaze lifted back to him and brightened. The blue swirled like a whirlpool and glittered with silver flakes. “I will take your oath upon your kingdom, King Thorne of the Third Realm. If you cross me, render me unto the wretched grasp of another or deliver me into the arms of death, I will see your kingdom suffer my eternal wrath.”

Thorne’s heart gave a hard painful beat and he clutched his chest, pressing his claws deep into his flesh.

He grimaced, grinding his teeth together, and fought the pain spreading through him, splintering his bones. He hadn’t expected his oath to be binding and sealed by magic.

“Thorne?” Sable’s soft voice filled with concern drew his focus to her. She stood beside him, her hand over his on his chest, her golden gaze warm with concern.

“I am well.” He placed his other hand over her slender one, completing the tangle.

“Let’s get going then, shall we?” Rosalind said, her tone bubbly and jovial again, as if she had always wanted to head to Hell and couldn’t wait to get there. Confusing female. She hopped around the room, stuffing a leather satchel with vials of liquids and herbs, and several books and other implements.

Thorne breathed through the pain radiating from his heart, keeping his focus on Sable, using her presence and touch to soothe the ache and reassure himself. He didn’t need to fear. He would not allow anything to happen to Rosalind. His kingdom would be safe from her wrath.

Rosalind bounced up to them. “Ready?”

He nodded and took hold of Sable’s hand, clutching it tightly. She linked hands with Rosalind. Bleu took the witch’s hand and then his.

Thorne focused, calling up an image of the First Realm and the white castle that towered in the centre of its black lands. The portal opened beneath his feet, expanding outwards to encompass the others, and he took a deep breath as they dropped into it, preparing himself for whatever awaited on the other side.

They landed in the inner courtyard of the white castle. Several large males immediately got to their feet, rising from the stone benches around the fountain in the centre of the curved courtyard.

They drew their swords, their pale horns curling as they readied themselves for battle.

Thorne tipped his chin up and stepped through his group, approaching the males. Their blue gazes flickered over him and they frowned and lowered their weapons.

“What business has the Third King here?” One of the males stepped forwards, an elaborate crest emblazoned in silver on the breast of his long black jacket. A commander.

Luck was with them.

Many lower ranking demons would not have recognised him and might have attacked them.

“I require an audience with the First King. It is a matter of great importance.” Thorne beckoned to Sable and Rosalind and they moved closer, keeping behind him.

Bleu came up beside him, his purple gaze dark with emotion that he radiated, anger and a deep desire to harm these males.

Bleu’s council had sent a contingent of elves into the First Realm to test the border and the demons had attacked them. Thorne could understand his anger, but now was not the time for acts of revenge. He looked across at Bleu, staring at the black-haired male until he drew his violet eyes away from the demons and settled them on him.

Thorne held his gaze, silently conveying everything he couldn’t say aloud without upsetting the demons. If Bleu desired to avenge his fallen comrades, he could do so, but not right now. Not while Thorne needed the assistance of the First King.

The darkness in his eyes lifted and he lowered them, and gave a slight nod.

“Come.” Thorne strode forwards, not waiting for the commander of the demons to speak and deny or grant them leave to continue into the building.

A commander had no power over him. All of the kings were allowed to enter another king’s castle unannounced and the one they visited had to grant them a civil greeting at the very least. After that, they could do as they pleased.

He was fortunate that the First King liked him and that things were unlikely to turn violent.

He walked into the pure white building, following the arched corridor to the main hall.

The First King sat on the white spiked throne on the raised platform at the far end of the enormous room.

“What the hell?” Sable said beside him and he glanced down at her.

She scowled at the First King, her emotions buzzing in his veins. Jealousy ran rampant among them. Why?

She turned her glare on him. “The First King is a queen?”

Thorne could understand her confusion, but not her jealousy. He looked to the First King. She sat on the throne, her white corseted dress accented with pale blue that matched her eyes. Her long white hair flowed down over her shoulders, her skin almost as ashen, lending her blue eyes an ethereal look.

“Thorne,” she said, a soft echo to her light voice.

She rose from her throne and drifted down the step and across the white flagstones to him, raising her hand at the same time.

Thorne took it and pressed a kiss to the back of it.

Sable seethed beside him, her glare gaining a sharp edge that cut him. She was jealous and on the verge of slapping the First King’s hand from his judging by the emotions that clouded the link between them.

He stifled the smile that threatened to tug at his lips and released the First King’s hand before Sable could launch an attack.

He had never imagined her to be such a possessive female. Perhaps the instincts that drove him to attack any male who gazed upon her with desire also compelled her to keep females away from him.

“Melia,” he said to the First King and she smiled, blinking slowly, her face a picture of serenity and happiness.

“It has been too long.” She drifted around him and ran a curious glance over Bleu, Rosalind and then Sable. “I was not expecting you to bring an elf. Has he come to apologise?”

“He was not part of the legion that crossed your lands unannounced, Melia, but those elves did so in order to assist me.” Thorne suppressed a shudder as her eerie gaze returned to him. He had never liked phantoms. King Valador had given his fated one flesh and substance, freeing her of life as a wraith, but she still bore the appearance of one of her kind—strangely beautiful and enchanting, yet emitting a sense of danger and death at the same time. “The Fifth King has sealed the Third Realm, locking me out in the process. I must find a way back in.”

Her face fell. “I did not know. You should have told me.”

“I was unwell. The elf, Bleu, took command in my absence, attempting to breach the barrier. His prince is in my realm, no doubt defending my people in my stead. It is imperative that I return as soon as I can.”