Kiss of a Demon King (10 page)

13

M
y demon is cross with me,” Sabine told him the next night. “I figured you would be fuming when I didn’t keep my promise to free you.” Instead, she’d ordered him chained to the bed again with his wrists above his head.

She could tell he was already on the razor’s edge toward rage—his eyes were no longer green, just constantly black—but that hadn’t stopped him from growing erect beneath the sheet.

He
should
be hard for her, since merely descending the steps up to his cell had made her primed for him, her body tingling in anticipation.

As he lay bare-chested, straining against the manacles, her appreciative gaze flickered over his brawny arms and broad shoulders. Her eyes followed each rigid sinew of muscle along his torso and across his stomach. She forgot to breath as she stared at the dusky trail of hair descending from his navel to the edge of the sheet—the sheet that continued to rise and pulse from his shaft.

The demon king truly was
magnificent.

“You made a vow to me, sorceress.”

She gave herself an inward shake. “Did I?” she asked blithely. “But really, you should know better than to trust someone like me. So it’s your own fault for being gullible.”

His eyes went dark with menace. His fangs lengthened in warning. In their situation, how could he appear so dangerous? As if he were the one in control?

“I was naughty to break my word. I think you should punish me.” Her lips curled. “Doesn’t
your
type of male like that sort of thing?”

When she sat on the side of the bed, he leaned up, stretching the chains taut. “I will punish you, Sabine.” At her ear, he rasped, “When I get free, the first thing I’m going to do is turn you over my knee. I’m going to whip that exquisite ass of yours until your pale skin is heated and throbbing from my palm. I’ll chain you down in my bed, and I swear to you, I will make you beg.”

“Then I’ll be sure not to free you.”

“It won’t do you any good. Eventually, I’ll get loose. You’ve drugged me. Tormented my body over and over. Held me against my will. You’ll be punished for these things. And you’ll pay in kind.”

“I
can’t
free you, Rydstrom. I know you plan to use me to escape. I don’t intend to lose you this eve—and I don’t intend to be captured.” When he was still baring his fangs, she said, “Tell me you hadn’t planned to escape, and I’ll free you.”

He did that steady eye-challenge thing, but he didn’t deny it. Though she wanted to view his unwavering honesty as a weakness, he didn’t look weak…he looked in control. Masculine and fierce.

“Rydstrom, do you think I
like
chaining you up and using you?” At his scowl, she said, “Very well, I like it a little bit. But I’d prefer to make love to you normally. Or at least as much as your fetish would allow.”

“I don’t have a
fetish
!”

With a flick of her hand, she made the dungeon appear to be her room, with breezes rushing in, the red and black banners whipping.

He frowned in confusion. “This is my room.”

“Now
ours.
I’ve been sleeping in your chambers, awaiting you.”

When he took his eyes off the room, he raked his gaze over her body.

Sabine had dressed much as she had yesterday, except the clothes were even more intricate. Her top was made of gold and silver, twisted and knotted to circle over her breasts, then climbing up around her neck. Her eyes were kohled with a purple so dark it was nearly black.

“You’re doing that eye-fucking thing again—would you like to see all of me?” she asked. “I could strip for you.”

At length, he gave a curt nod as if he couldn’t stop himself.

She slipped her full-length gloves from her arms, then tossed them negligently onto the floor behind her. The top took long moments for her to unlace, and his eyes were riveted on her fingers unknotting the ties. Each second seemed to excite him more.

“Did you choose that top because you thought I’d like it?” He was breathing harder.

“Yes, to please you.”

When she began stripping her skirt, he ordered in a husky voice, “Slower, female.” His eyes were burning, his expression so hungry. He seemed unaware that he was subtly rocking his hips.

She eased the skirt to her ankles, kicking it away, leaving her black lace thong and thigh-highs.

“Now those,” he bit out, jerking his chin at her panties. She inched them down, teasing him to a fever pitch.

Once she’d gracefully stepped from the thong, he grated, “Stop there.” Only her headdress, choker, and hose remained. “Now turn around.”

As she did, she said, “Is this the body of a queen, or what, Rydstrom? Come on, demon. Admit that you like me.” She faced him again.
Hungry eyes, dangerous expression.
Shivers danced over her.

How could a
look
be so arousing to her?

She held his gaze as she sauntered up to him. “If you cooperate with me, I intend to kiss your body from your strangely erotic horns to your toes.” She climbed over his waist, and when he bucked, she grabbed his horns, stilling him. “That’s not cooperating, my darling.” She leaned forward and rubbed her face over the smooth surface of one.

With a groan, he turned his own face to reach for one of her nipples, nuzzling it. But once he tugged the swollen tip between his teeth, she had a moment of alarm. He could bite her…

Instead, he sucked her nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling, making her moan. To reward him, she ran her lips over his horn. His massive body shuddered beneath her, rattling the chains.

When he groaned against her breast, her eyes went heavy-lidded. Fires began to light the perimeter of the chamber, stoked with each of his feverish licks around her nipple.

With the faintest smile, she let the flames burn.

Sabine pulled back, then brushed her mouth against one of his ears. “Demon, I would be a good lover to you.” One of her delicate hands was smoothing over his chest. “I’d give you everything.”

Right now he had no doubt of that. “I don’t understand you. The last time you came in here, you were hard-bitten, like you were going to battle. Now this…”

No longer was her touch impersonal. It was tender, desiring…like he’d imagined his own female would touch him.

“Do you still deny I’m yours?” There was an edge to her voice.

“I deny it no longer.” He blinked, shaking his head to clear his vision. “Sabine, there’s a fire—”

“It’s only illusion, demon.” In his ear, she whispered, “It’s unconscious. The flames come from me when I get extremely aroused.”

Extremely aroused? And the fire was growing. When he comprehended that she was in desperate need like him, the driving instinct to sate her raged inside him.

This seduction was too powerful, like she was using magick. The fire, the sweetness of her touch…“You’re weaving some kind of spell.”

“There’s no spell. I just desire you.”

Even as she soothed and whispered her words, he grew more frenzied, turning more demonic.

“Accept me as yours. Claim me.” She cupped his face, giving him a tender, coaxing kiss like she had the last time she’d come to him. When she kissed him like this, his resistance melted away.

Once she broke the kiss, she leaned down to trail her lips across his chest, her shining hair sweeping over his skin. Her breasts swayed, her hard nipples glancing over him. She’d been working him into a lather with her seeking kisses and her silken hands grazing all over his body. And now she dipped down his torso, her destination unmistakable.

When she rubbed her soft face against his shaft, his head fell back. He raised it a second later.

“Typical male,” she murmured, “wanting to watch. Well, watch this…” She teased the crown, licking the slit until he yelled out.

“Demon, you taste so good…”

He gazed at her in disbelief. “
Tassia,
suck it between your lips.”

Her hand clasped the base, her lips closing tight over the swollen head.
“Ummm,”
she moaned around it, sending vibrations along his shaft.

“Take it deep for me!”

She did, pumping her fist and sucking him without mercy, working in concert to pleasure him. A helpless groan broke from his chest when he saw her fingering her sex. Not a selfless woman but a greedy one expecting her pleasure.
Good.

“You…like this? Are you wet?”

In answer, she raised the hand she’d been using to pet herself toward his mouth. When he realized she expected him to taste her, his cock jerked in her mouth, and he quickly leaned down. He sucked her slick fingers, snarling in bliss, his seed palpably climbing.

The night began to grow hazy. He was going more demonic with a female than ever before. The need to have her lashed at him.

He released her fingers only when his back bowed.
So close.

She dug her nails into his torso, marking his body in her abandon, whipping him to a frenzy. “I have…to take you!” With his wrists chained behind him, his arms straight back, he gave a furious thrust between her lips.

She stopped and pulled back.

“No!”
he bellowed.

Gazing up at him with her deeply kohled eyes flashing metallic, she clutched his shaft, still wet from her tongue. Between panting breaths, she said, “Give me the vow, demon. I’ll make your eyes roll back in your head.”

The throbbing pain was too much…goading him to give in to her.

“Rydstrom, I want this. Did you never think that I need you, too?”

Need me?
“Sabine…” He trailed off when he heard a yell coming from the main tower. “What was that?”

“Nothing, absolutely nothing—”

Someone pounded on the cell door.

“Ignore that, demon,” Sabine said. “What were you going to say to me?”

“Abie!” a female called from just outside. “Quickly!”

Sabine made a sharp sound of frustration, then leaned her forehead against his shaft, pressing it against his stomach.

Rydstrom bit out, “Finish this, Sabine. I need you to finish this!”

She eased up over him, lying atop him with her head on his chest. As they fought to catch their breath, she was shaking—he was shuddering.

But even as he was in agony, she felt so damned right against him.

Mine.
He needed to have his arms around her, to clutch her tighter, to keep her by him.

“Let me in!” the woman called. “I’m not leaving until you open up.”

Sabine sighed, then pressed a kiss to his chest. “Your heart is so strong,” she murmured, sounding impressed. When she lifted her head, she met his gaze. “I wonder if it could beat for both of us.”

He rasped, “If I thought I could have more of you like this, it’d be yours.”

Her lips parted. Another shout sounded from the main part of the castle.

“Abie, I will create a portal into that cell if you don’t come out!”

Sabine glanced away, and when she turned back, he briefly saw something in her eyes that wasn’t there before. For a heartbeat’s time, she’d appeared…fearful. The fires dissipated in a rush.

Rydstrom knew how deadly the beings here were. His alarm for her cooled the worst of his lust.
My female.
His instinct was to protect her. But she
was
one of the deadly beings here—he had to remember that.

Instinct had never warred with his reason this much. He was torn inside, the conflict taking its toll. “Are you in danger?”

“What would you do if I said yes?” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Would you keep me safe?”

“Yes,” he answered without hesitation. “Free me, Sabine, and I’ll protect you with my life.”

“Why? Only because I’m your female?”

“Protecting you is what I was born to do.”

“I have to go.”

“Then kiss me,” he said, the words leaving his tongue before he’d even thought.

She cupped his face in her small hands and leaned down. She kissed him—differently. He cracked open his eyes to find hers squeezed shut, her brows drawn. As if she were desperate to lose herself in the kiss.

He soon did, his lids sliding shut. Lost in the way her lips trembled against his, lost in the rightness of his female needing him.

14

H
e’d been just about to say the vow, Lanthe!” Sabine had barely been able to redress she’d been so affected by Rydstrom. “So help me, this had better be the coming of the
apocalypse
—”

“Yep, fairly much. We’re kind of under attack.”

“Acutely or chronically?”

Lanthe answered, “Nothing at this
exact
moment. Of course, something could have come up since I came to the dungeon. In any case, Omort summoned you—I figured you wouldn’t want him coming to search for you.”

Sabine turned to one of her Inferi. “You. Come here.” She’d promised the demon that he could be free to move about the cell and clothed. And she was feeling just guilty enough to allow him a pair of pants and some limited freedom.

As the attendant ran off with her instructions, Sabine and Lanthe hastened to court.

“Your eyes are still glowing, Abie. You might want to camouflage that before you see Omort.”

Sabine wove a new illusion over her face. “It was…nice with Rydstrom. Unexpected.”
A demon lover with eyes like night—who looked at her as if nothing else existed for him.

“Are you falling for him?”

“Could there be a more doomed relationship? It is ridiculous even to contemplate.”
His husky voice…the way his smooth skin tasted
. “He’s just so…so
good
.”

“I think that intrigues you,” Lanthe said. “He’s a male as strong as you, and one you can’t defeat.”

“Can we talk about this later? Perhaps after you tell me what’s happening here?”

“Pravus patrols are returning with reports of small uprisings, increasing in number and intensity. Some of the rage demons even attacked the patrols.”

“They’ve never dared before.”

“They know we have their king. And evidently they also know Cadeon has undertaken the quest for the sword. Just like you’d said, it’s become a rallying point.”

“Can there be anything else?”

“Absolutely! I also heard that Omort has dispatched four fire demons to acquire not just a soothsayer, but the most powerful one in existence.”

Sabine said, “Nïx.”

The notorious Valkyrie oracle called Nïx the Ever-Knowing, or Nucking Futs Nïx, was rumored to be three thousand years old and exceedingly insane.

But her foretellings, when she deigned to give them, were always accurate.

“It seems she keeps eluding the fire demons,” Lanthe said. “Oh! Almost forgot—we’ve heard word that vampires are converging in the forest outside the castle to take Tornin.”

“Lothaire’s?” Was that why he’d been studying everyone, because he planned some kind of treachery?

“We don’t think so. His covenant is still intact.”

When they reached the grand double doors of the court, a snickering group passed the sisters on their way inside. “What in the hell is going on?”

“They know you haven’t been able to seduce him.”

Her face fell. “The covenant.” Actual evidence that she was still a virgin was available for all the world to see.

Now everybody would be waiting for the tablet to break. The Sorceri males she’d been sexual with—the ones who could never talk her out of her virginity—would think it great fun that she couldn’t even give her virtue away to the one she’d supposedly saved it for.

“There are betting pools,” Lanthe muttered.

“Betting pools. And what are the odds?”

“You don’t want to know. But we could make a mint if you can put a lock on this.”

Everyone in the castle knew she was failing in her bid for power. And she was about to enter court—a ruthless jungle of backbiting and betrayals. Not only would this be damaging for her ego, but if she lost face badly enough in the power-worshipping Pravus, her very life could be in jeopardy.

Sabine heard more snickers. Hettiah and her coterie of worthless Sorceri friends strolled past the sisters on their way into court. Their mocking glances made it easy for Sabine to see she would have to strike out.

Lose face, lose life.
This was her world. She hadn’t gone through the effort of surviving in it this long just to be killed when she was on the cusp of something more. “I’m going to have to fight in there if challenged.”

Though she and Lanthe had no battle sorcery, they both were scrappy and had become fair swordswomen. In battle, Sabine used her illusions to make them invisible, allowing them to run around the field, decapitating merrily.

It wasn’t very valorous, but then, only stupid people held valor over life.

“I know you’ll have to,” Lanthe said quietly. “And I can’t be there with you.”

“Hey, don’t worry.” Sabine held up her gauntlets. “I just had my claws sharpened.” She rapped the metal together, and the smooth ringing tone was pleasing to the ear—

Without warning, Lothaire traced in front of them, peering down at them from his towering height.

Sabine raised her hands up to him, ready to draw his nightmares. “I’ve heard friends of yours plan to visit?”

“I’ll trace away before you madden me, sorceress,” he said, his words laced with a thick accent. Some said he hailed from Dacia, and had been a true Transylvanian.

Sabine’s lips thinned, but she lowered her hands. He hadn’t threatened her, and she wasn’t
supposed
to attack Lothaire. Technically, he was part of the New Pravus. One of the inner circle. His blood was in that tablet that hung on the east wall.

He said, “Just to be clear, I have no friends. And
my
soldiers are in the bailey downstairs.”

“Then who lurks in our forest?” she asked.

“One of the splinter factions breaking away from the Horde since the old vampire king died. My spies indicate they’ll attack tomorrow night.”

Tornin had protections in place—basically a mystickal moat—so the vampires wouldn’t be able to trace directly inside. At least,
not for long
. “What do they want?”

“The well.”

The Well of Souls. Armies always sought to control it, because each faction of the Lore had its own legends surrounding it.

The Lykae believed it cured the madness that accompanied the transformation to werewolf. The vampires believed it allowed them to be daywalkers and to turn human females into vampires for their potential Brides. The House of Witches believed it gave them the abilities of all five of their castes.

In truth, Sabine didn’t know what the hell it did. Even Omort vowed he didn’t. All they knew was that the well’s power would be unimaginable—and unlocked only by Sabine’s son.

“Who leads the vampires?” Lanthe asked.

“They have no true ruler, because they won’t accept a commoner like myself.”

The Horde was notorious for following only those born in the royal line. “Yet you lead the ones who’ve joined the Pravus.”

“I might have mentioned to them that the well will resurrect the old Horde king to rule them once more. As soon as the Pravus wins.”

Devious vampire. He rose another notch in Sabine’s opinion. “What about Kristoff?” He was the old king’s nephew and should be the true ruler, being of royal lineage, though not a drinker of living blood.

Lothaire shook his head. “They know he will make them abide by his laws. They have been lawless for so long, they won’t be brought to heel that easily. Plus, they like the taste of human flesh.” Had he licked his fang for a shot of blood? “This is a mere fraction of the army that will gather. In the next two nights, more will come. Many of them know this land from fighting the mighty demon king in ages past.”

Everyone knew the tales of Rydstrom riding out in his fearsome black helmet, beating the Horde back from Tornin. His battles were legendary. “One would think you’d be able to persuade them to leave.”

“Would one?”

“Sabine!” Omort yelled from inside. He was glassy-eyed, but when he saw her at the doorway, he seemed to rouse. Then he spied Lanthe beside her. “Be gone, Melanthe!” he ordered. “Back to your tower.”

“One day…”
Lanthe said telepathically, slinking off.
“Good luck.”

As Sabine sauntered inside toward the throne, all eyes were on her. When she separated from Lothaire—lest others suspect them of a secret alliance—the vampire murmured, “Noted, sorceress.”

Once she reached the dais, Omort was fiddling with his poison ring. Sabine would give anything for the antidote to his morsus. Each poison was individual, and since Omort’s was prepared by the Hag in the Basement, she was the only one who could cure Sabine.

But the Hag had entered into a covenant never to surrender the antidote to another….

“Cadeon the Kingmaker continues after the sword,” Omort said.

In as soothing a tone as she could manage, Sabine said, “Yes, brother, but it could take him years to find the Vessel.”

“Cadeon already has her!”

Sabine’s lips parted. “Are you saying the Vessel is on her way to Groot?” With a male like him, that female would bear another ultimate evil. The world couldn’t withstand another like Omort. “Send fire demons to assassinate her,” Sabine said coolly.

“You think I haven’t?” Omort yelled, spittle coating his bottom lip.

He disgusted her. Earlier, when Rydstrom had realized she was going to leave him, he’d inhaled deeply, visibly in pain. And then he’d gained control of himself. Who was more powerful, the quiet demon king she kept in chains or the mad sorcerer who could destroy the world but couldn’t keep a single castle in order?

Omort snatched up a goblet, dashing it against the wall. “Those demons continue to fail us.”

“We’ll think of something,” Sabine said. “I’ll go after her myself if I need to. And I never fail you.”

“You are failing me right now! You’ve been in the demon’s cell again and again!” He slammed his fist on the throne arm. “We’ve been waiting days for some kind of progress—why can’t you get him to do this?”

“Was there a time limit to my task?”

Hettiah said, “We’ve heard word that you go and do nothing but talk.”

Once! “Your pet’s making sniveling noises again, Omort. Shut—her—up!”

“I think you’re not committed to this cause!” Omort snapped. “Perhaps I should withhold the morsus to spur you on.”

Sabine’s eyes narrowed. The chamber appeared to rock. “You keep threatening me with that, and you will
not
like the outcome.”

“You dare—”

Four fire demons traced in front of the dais, just to her side. The court fell silent in shock.

The demons were beaten, bloody, and
handless
. Pinned to the shirt collar of one was a folded note stamped with an
N
in a black wax seal.

Nïx.
The Valkyrie had sent them back with their hands lopped off—rendering them powerless.

Omort stormed down the steps to them and ripped the parchment free, tearing it open. As he read, a vein bulged in his forehead. “That bitch! She’ll know my wrath and will learn to fear it!” he yelled, crumpling the letter and throwing it away. “I go for her myself!” In an instant, Omort raised his hands and smote the four to ash.

Stepping around the charred remains, Sabine scooped up the note, smoothing the paper to read:

Dear puss,

Is this all you’ve got? Why don’t you strap on your big girl panties and come face me yourself? Unless you fear that the Nïxanator will spank Omort’s wittle bottom.

By the way, you’ve taken one of the most respected leaders in our army. We’re going to want him back. Especially since Sabine can’t break him.

Bringing it,

Nïx the Ever-Knowing, Soothsayer Without Equal, General of the New Army of Vertas.

Sabine whistled out a surprised breath. The Valkyrie truly was crazed.

Then she frowned.
Can’t break him?
Again, was there a time limit? Style points?

And what was this Army of Vertas? Sabine had heard rumors that Nïx was placing factions together—the Lykae, the Forbearers, the noble fey, the House of Witches, a mix of Demonarchies, and many more. Had they all struck an alliance?

Perhaps they were using this letter to lure Omort into a trap. Sabine knew the other side had mystickal prisons, entire islands that were inescapable. Could
they
capture the deathless one?

Sabine stared at the script, her thoughts racing.

“Bring me the rage demon!” Omort commanded. “I’ll send Rydstrom’s arms back to the Valkyrie!”

“No!” Sabine cried, her heart in her throat. Omort would butcher him. Rydstrom would regenerate the limbs, but the pain…“You will not—”

The sudden hit took her across the face, blood spraying out from her mouth over the marble.

Hettiah
had attacked her? That cold, pure fury Sabine knew so well swept through her. Then came the bile, the nausea, that could only be allayed with violence.
Self-preservation, survival.

A red haze covered her vision; Sabine spat more blood as Hettiah’s friends surrounded her.