Claimed by a Demon King (40 page)

His for eternity.

“This is nice,” she said on a sigh and he knew she meant every word. He could sense it in her. His female, his Sable, was enjoying this moment of quiet intimacy as much as he was.

He grazed his fingers down her arm and frowned as they reached the silver cuff around her right wrist. He angled his head to get a better look at it as he stroked his fingertips over the cool bright metal.

“Sable,” he whispered and she murmured in response. His touch lingered on the cuff, his gaze remaining locked there. “What made you join Archangel?”

He hadn’t wanted to bring up Archangel, knowing it would make her think about her position and that it remained an obstacle between them, but the longer he held her, the more he realised he lacked knowledge about her position and didn’t know her reason for being with the demon-hunting organisation. He wanted to know everything about her.

She shifted in his arms, rolling onto her front, so her breasts pressed against his chest and her right leg slid between his, threatening to wreck his concentration and stir his hunger for her.

“I don’t know.” She gave a small lift of her shoulders. “I was fighting this guy… the same punk kid who got his claws into my leg.”

“Why fight him?”

“Because I could sense he wasn’t right. He was dangerous and he was going after a woman who didn’t have a damn clue. I saved her… but some other people called the police. They hauled me in and, well… Archangel set me free.” She walked her fingers over his chest, her gaze on them, a small frown marring her brow. “They asked me what happened and I told them. They realised that I could sense a faint difference between the demon and the mortals around him, and they recruited me… they convinced me I had a gift that could help them, and help people.”

“You do have a gift,” he said and caught the flicker of hurt in her eyes as she glanced at him and then turned her face away. He sighed and captured her hand with his, stopping it from roaming his chest, and wrapped his other arm around her, anchoring her to him. “It is a gift that you have, Sable. Your powers—”

“Came from some homicidal arsehole who ditched my mum and she ditched me. I used to like my gift. Archangel helped me. They put me through training programmes that increased that gift and I honestly believed it was a calling.” She lowered her head, pressing her lips and chin against his chest, and sighed. “I never questioned where it came from… and now I wish I didn’t know.”

Thorne pulled her up to him and held her as he kissed her, wanting to chase away the hurt that had been in her voice and the pain he could feel beating in her heart.

“I apologise,” he whispered against her lips. “I should not have asked.”

She nuzzled his nose with hers and then shook her head and pushed herself up so she was looking down into his eyes.

“It’s fine. I just… it’s all still a little new, and raw. I guess part of me always held on to hope that I would meet my parents one day and they would be proud of me… and looking back…” She heaved a sigh. “I think this all scares me because Archangel are like my family now. I wanted to be a commander, because I wanted them… hell, I wanted them to be proud of me.”

“You wanted them to be the parents you never had.”

She nodded and looked away again. “It’s stupid.”

“There is no need to feel ashamed because you desired someone to look at you with pride in their eyes, to treat you special and tell you that you had done well and they were pleased.”

She smiled and slid her gaze towards him. “Did your father ever do such a thing with you?”

It was his turn to look away now and heave a sigh. He threw one hand above his head and tucked it beneath, tangling his fingers in his hair to stop himself from stroking his left horn.

“I do not remember. He was often busy with the kingdom. I recall wanting him to be proud of me though… I still desire such a thing now.”

“Thorne,” she started quickly and then softened her tone. Her gaze locked on his face and her fingers stroked lines over his chest. “I’m sure he is proud of you. You’re a good king… a great man. You don’t need to measure yourself against him. He reigned in a time of peace, and you’ve lived through a time of war, and your kingdom is still here… and if I have anything to say about it, it will still be here in centuries to come, and so will you.”

The belief in her words struck him hard, bringing his eyes back to hers so he could see that faith reflected in their amber depths.

“And I am certain that Archangel is proud of you—”

“I wouldn’t say that,” she interjected and wrinkled her nose. “Mark… my superior… sort of had an air of unimpressed father when I was tending to you. He practically laid down the law. No mortal and demon relationships allowed.”

She waggled her finger and scowled, and he presumed it was meant as an impression of her senior.

“I almost mentioned that I wasn’t feeling particularly human. I don’t think Archangel would understand if they found out my father was probably an angel… I think they’d run experiments on me… like they wanted to run on Loren and Bleu.”

He stroked her long black hair back from her face and then pinched her chin between his fingers and thumb, keeping her eyes on him.

“I am proud of you. I have never met a female as strong, brave, skilled and determined as you are. I have witnessed you fight demons, deal with events that left you shaken and yet you refused to succumb to your fears, and I have seen you stand tall when your strength is questioned and prove your worth. I would place you in the ranks of my army as a commander without a second’s pause. If Archangel cannot see your worth and see that you are their ally, not their enemy, then that is their mistake, and their loss.” He rubbed his thumb across her lower lip. “And I will never let them lay a finger on you.”

She lifted her hand and stroked his horn, her fiery eyes glittering as she smiled down at him.

“You’re becoming quite the poet, King Thorne. Maybe I should have let you closer before. You have a way of making me feel better about myself, and I like it.”

“And I love you,” he whispered and grasped her bare backside, pulled her up his body and kissed her. She broke away too soon, pushing herself up and looking back down into his eyes. An angel. “And you are mine… my Sable… my queen.”

She smiled again, beautiful and magical, enchanting him with the way it reached her eyes and spoke to his heart.

“Your queen… just like that? No ceremony?”

“Ah, well. There is another part to the claiming. It requires a public ceremony. We must share blood and speak—”

The bells tolled.

Cold slithered down Thorne’s spine and he growled.

He should have known that someone would dare to snatch this Heaven from him before he was ready to give it up and face the world.

“That isn’t good, is it?” Sable pushed herself up onto her knees and he rose with her, swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood.

“The Fifth King approaches.” Thorne grabbed a new pair of thick black leather trousers from his drawers and tugged them on.

Sable rushed around his room, gathering her clothes and throwing them on as quickly as she could. “I’ll need my weapons.”

“We must make haste to the library and speak with the others first. There is time for us to prepare before we engage his army.” Thorne’s heart pounded at a sickening pace and he fought to control his nerves and the dark voices ringing in his head.

He was a great man. A good king. His little female had told him as much and she believed in him.

He paused to watch her as she struggled with her boots and she looked up at him, radiating confidence that was infectious.

“Don’t be getting jittery on me now. I’ve seen you fight, Thorne, and I know your desire to protect your people runs deep, and I hate your traditions.”

He frowned at that final one.

She straightened, crossed the room to him and ran her hands over his chest as she tiptoed and brought her mouth close to his.

“I’m fucking damned if I’m letting you fight that bastard alone. Screw your traditions. I’ll have your back and I’ll have my forever after with you, and you will just have to deal with it.”

He grinned and swept her up into his arms, and kissed her as he dropped them through a portal, bringing them to the library. He had the impression many of the sacred traditions of his kind were going to end up ignored, overruled or altered by his fiery little fated one.

“I feel nauseous.” Grave’s deep voice rang out above the chatter and Thorne released Sable and set her down. “Beauty has tamed the beast it seems… I pity you, Beast.”

Thorne ignored him and scanned the room, checking who was yet to arrive. Sable moved off to speak with Olivia, Loren and Bleu. Strange. He could watch his female speaking with the elf commander without even a trace of hatred or need for violence.

Bleu’s dark gaze leaped to her throat and then to him. The elf scowled at him. Thorne was about to puff his chest out when Sable looked over at him too. She would want him to be the better man and not rejoice in his victory. He nodded to her and turned away from Bleu.

Rosalind stood close to him, her hands over her eyes, wearing the same black dress as before. He had been expecting her to remain in her quarters, away from the public spaces in the house. What had brought her out to the meeting?

The open book on the table and a lit candle gave him his answer.

“Do you require transport back to your room?” he asked her and she shook her head but kept her hands over her eyes.

“I think I’m good. I had finished setting up the barrier and couldn’t sleep, so I came up here to see your library because Sable had mentioned you owned many books. I was reading one of them when the bells went off. Before I knew it, there was an elf in the room. I’m not sure which one it was at first… but I didn’t see them… and if I don’t look at him or speak to him, then I should be okay.”

She sounded unsure. Thorne wanted to ease her by taking her back to her room, but the rest of him was glad that she was here. She might be able to offer valuable information to them.

“What spells have you at your disposal?” He looked towards the arched open windows at the other end of the room.

“Too many to name or number. Why?”

“Perhaps you could assist me.”

She nodded and he took her arm and led her across the room, past Grave, Kyal and Kincaid, and some of their men and his. He stopped with her in front of the open window and looked out into the dimness.

“Open your eyes and tell me what you see.” He placed his hands on her shoulders and made sure his body blocked her view of everyone in the room.

“If I see an elf, you’re in deep trouble,” she said and then slowly peeled her hands away from her face. She squinted. “I see darkness.”

“Could you see the enemy from here with a spell?” He narrowed his eyes and tried to make out any movement in the early light. “Could you tell me what we are up against?”

She nodded again, muttered something under her breath and twisted her hands together. Colours sparked between her hands, bright flashes that stole some of his vision, and then she curled her fingers around, forming a cylinder with each of her hands, brought them together so they resembled binoculars he had seen in the mortal world and raised them to her eyes. Curious.

“I see… dead people. Just kidding!” She glanced up at him and her expression soured. “You need to see more movies.”

He shrugged. His kingdom did not have the power required to make electronic equipment function readily available, but it was on his list of things to do to improve the lives of his people. And his queen. Sable owned many different electronic devices and he had noticed a huge number of digital discs in her small apartment and a startling lack of books. If he wanted his queen to be happy living in his kingdom, he would need to find a way to power the equipment she found necessary.

Rosalind went back to looking through her hands. “I see a problem.”

That did not please him. “Tell me more.”

“I see a big problem. I guessed from the spells locking down your kingdom that they had witches on their side but they have
witches
… a serious amount of witches.” She lowered her hands and looked up at him again. “At least two dozen. Thorne, witches in that number… the barrier spells I’ve placed over your castle won’t hold out long against them.”

He frowned and looked off to his right, out into the early morning greyness. “You are saying we cannot attack from the walls and weaken their army before facing them on the battlefield?”

“I’m saying you can, but the barrier spell might not last long with that many witches pelting it with reversal spells and attacks. Once this barrier is down, it will take me time to construct a new one.”

He couldn’t risk the barrier falling. His final command to his men last night had been to move all citizens from the surrounding villages into the castle in order to keep them safe from harm. He had been relying on Rosalind’s spell to do that. If he allowed the witches of the Fifth King’s army to break Rosalind’s spell, all of the citizens he had brought into the castle would end up exposed to danger and the attacks.

“Thorne,” Sable said from beside him and he looked down into her eyes, seeing everything she wanted to say in them. He smiled and brushed his fingers across hers.

He loved her too, and he would have her back in the coming fight, just as he knew she would have his. Together, they would make it through this and would save his kingdom.

Thorne linked his fingers with hers and looked over her head to the others—to the elves, the vampires, the werewolves, and the mortals who had gathered with his demon brethren and awaited his command.

“We meet them head on.”

CHAPTER 28

S
able checked her weapons for the millionth time, a light warm breeze playing in her long black hair, causing rogue strands from her ponytail to flutter over her shoulder as she stood in the middle of the central courtyard of the dark stone castle.

She ran her fingers over the twin rows of small throwing blades strapped to her ribs beneath her arms, the leather holster laying them flush against her tight black t-shirt, and expelled her breath. It wasn’t a sigh. She wasn’t nervous.