Kiss of a Demon King

12

" You still look unsullied," Lanthe said when she and Sabine met upstairs, Sabine hated that word. She hated that it was never used to describe males and that she couldn't get herself sullied quickly enough. "Yes, Lanthe, I'm still pure"

"Round two went that well?"

For the first time since she was a young woman, Sabine experienced total bewilderment. "I've waited all this time to have a purpose, to gain power, my life on hold for centuries." She remembered wanting nothing, aspiring to nothing. I care about nothing very much . . . Now was the time to act, yet she couldn't. "I never thought he would resist me."

She shivered to recall the way his green eyes flick­ered black when he'd looked at her with utter lust. And still he'd denied her. He'd resisted not only the call of a female to a male but the call of his mate.

"What if I'm not his? What if the prophecy was wrong?" Oracles didn't usually make mistakes, but those

interpreting their words did. "I don't get it. I'm sexually attractive to a remarkable degree-"

"And humble."

"It's not bragging if it's true. And I'm his-which means, this is in the bag. Or should be." Though most of his kind searched their entire lives for their other half, Rydstrom hadn't. Once he'd lost Tornin, he'd been obsessed in his quest to reclaim his crown.

Now that the worst of her pique had passed, she reflected on all she'd learned. To please him as he truly needed, she would have to surrender the reins-or appear to.

Sabine was so strong on the outside, always having to be on her game, never revealing any vulnerability. There'd been times that she'd actually wondered what it would be like to lie back and just surrender to a man.

If she trusted him. I/he was worthy. The demon would never seek to steal my powers....

"I knew he was complicated." But she'd never guessed to what degree. "The levelheaded, upstanding king has a wicked side." And one he'd obviously long denied.

Lanthe's eyes went wide. "Do tell!"

"He craves total control, but he doesn't want me to give it to him. He wants to win it."

"That sounds kind of exciting."

It was. Gods, that demon's masculine heat was addic­tive ...

"When you were with him, did you feel more drawn to him? " When Sabine frowned, Lanthe said, "Just tell me-if this was another place and time, and you were just two ordinary beings, would you see him again?"

He wants to kiss my neck and tell me that I'm beauti­ful. .. . "Our kind considers demons hardly better than animals."

"That's not what I asked."

"I... maybe," she muttered.

Lanthe's face brightened. "Oh, Sabine! This is won­derful. You could fall in love-"

"Always with your talk of love! Do you know what I love? Life. And romantic love is a distraction that makes staying alive more difficult. Besides, we're not in another time or place."

And still Sabine glanced over her shoulder toward the dungeon and felt a tinge of... something.

When she turned back, she found Lanthe preoccu­pied, gazing up at the sky.

"A karat for your thoughts," she said. "It's Thronos, isn't it?"

"What?" Lanthe cried.

"You're worried he will find a way to this plane. But, Lanthe, he can't. And even if he could, we're not the same scared girls we used to be. We'd hang him by his own entrails."

"Yes, by his entrails," Lanthe repeated in a weird tone.

"How about we go watch some of your DVDs?"

Lanthe had quite the collection of films. Every month, she opened a portal from her room directly to a Best Buy, and then they ordered their Inferi to make like an ant line to the movie section. "We'll watch a horror movie and drink wine every time a blonde trips on her own feet."

"Sounds good," she said without enthusiasm.

"It'll he great. We'll get merry and raise hell."

Suddenly Sabine felt the tiny hairs on her nape rise. Great, Lanthe had gotten her spooked. She glanced up, but found no Vrekener.

Instead, she spied Lothaire atop the rampart, his trench blowing in the sea breeze, his thick white-blond hair stirring. The general of the Fallen Vampires within the Pravus army was watching them.

Lothaire was one of the most complicated males Sabine had ever encountered. His eyes were pink-not clear of blood, but not red with it either. He was consid­ered fallen, and yet he prevented himself from making those last few kills that would send him over the brink.

Whenever Sabine made herself invisible and moved about the castle, she would catch Lothaire spying on others, an analytical, cunning look on his face.

His interest in her and Lanthe boded ill.

Without breaking his watchful gaze, Lothaire disap-peared.

Thoughts growing darker. . . .

Rydstrom twisted in the chains, chafing against the heavy metal collar around his neck. Darker with each hour.

At the end of this night, he'd still resisted the sorcer­ess, even with his fantasies projected in a vision. But the pain was becoming too much to withstand. His cock throbbed to be inside her, aching so much that Rydstrom was unable to reason. Unable to just think clearly.

He had to escape. Play along. Let her think she's seduced you to do what she wants. A dangerous ploy, because he feared she could. He was greedy for her, would give almost anything to have her.

But he wouldn't give up his kingdom.

Before, he'd burned to get free so that he could bring Cadeon in line and trade the Vessel to claim Groot's sword. Now he burned to get revenge against Sabine.

He imagined all the ways he'd make her pay once he was free. He'd make her beg for him between her thighs. He'd make her plead as she writhed in the chains he bound her with.

The visions she'd shown him tonight had shocked him in more ways than one. Until Rydstrom had seen them, plain and hare, he never would have admitted that was exactly what he would like sexually.

Knowing that was true meant recognizing that he had spent his entire existence since his thirteenth birthday, merely attempting. He'd been careful choosing each woman he'd been with. Every sexual encounter had been an investigation to find his mate-or rather, to rule out that the demoness of that encounter was not his mate.

Again and again, he'd experienced meaningless, noncommittal nights, where he expected disappoint­ment and was glad to be done with it.

With Sabine-he wanted to keep her beneath him for days.

Deny it all I want. He'd never hungered for another female a fraction as much as he did her. Though these encounters with her ran contrary to his desires-she

should be chained in his bed-they were still hotter than any reality he'd ever experienced.

And soon she would be in his power. She'd given her vow that he was to be left free the next time she came to him. Now that he was more familiar with her ability, he could predict it, could withstand it, and capture her.

Once free of the castle, he could take Sabine into the forests surrounding Tornin and remain hidden there for some time. But to get back to his brother, Rydstrom would have to escape this plane.

The fact that Omort monitored all teleportation off Rothkalina was well known. Yet so long as beings didn't enter the plane, Omort hadn't cared overly much about them leaving.

Rydstrom had long heard rumors of secret smuggling portals in Grave Realm, the most perilous area in the entire kingdom. If they reached a portal, they could escape completely. Omort was rumored to be weak away from the well, and he wouldn't likely give chase him­self. Rydstrom could easily handle anyone else he sent after them.

But whenever Rydstrom planned how the night of his escape would unfold, he feared his own will, was disturbed by his fantasies. Because he didn't see himself capturing her and escaping.

He saw himself throwing her to the bed and covering her, fucking her with all the strength in his body.