He watched her but she stared blankly at the floor. Her lids seemed heavy and she swayed slightly. “What is the matter, Svetiessa? Are you ill?” He wound long fingers like iron rivets around her upper arm to hold her steady.
She wiped at an eye that had a purple shadow under it. “I’m fine.”
“No she isn’t, Sire,” Mara stated firmly. “She insisted on cleaning this entire place and has worn herself out being still in recovery from the hell she went through.”
Dev turned Sveti to face him. She looked so weary, about to drop. He asked the maid, “Why was she cleaning?”
The forty-something Mara tucked brown hair up in a chignon and straightened her black bodysuit with lacey collar over her plump figure. “She said she did not want someone having to clean up after her. I argued, but,” she lifted her palms, shrugged, “she did it anyway.”
She added with a whisper, “Plus, her nights are punctuated with nightmares of the Amphicyonids, the torment, what she endured. Between that and her fear of going home, well, she hasn’t gotten a lot of sleep.”
Sveti’s lids were rolling down over her tired eyes, she looked thoroughly done in.
He could understand the nightmares. He had taken her out of hell that day. Dev started to ask her why she was afraid to go home to her brother, but shook himself, it was none of his concern. He didn’t care what she was afraid of. Right now, she needed to go to bed. “Come,” he said and drew her from the door.
“Where-”
“You’re going to bed for the rest of the day.” He walked her across the carpet to the hallway.
She tried to pull her arm from his grasp but his hand was like a thick steel clamp. “I am fine, please, I haven’t finished tidying, I need to-”
He ignored her, dragging her to the bedroom. Inside, he let her go and pulled the lavender blanket and white sheet down then stood aside.
She tried to glare at him but was too tired to make it look stern. Instead, she turned from him and started for the door, saying, “Don’t be ridiculous, it is early, there is so much more work to do, the floor still needs mopping. I am not going to bed now.”
His gaze fell to the butt cheeks showing under the shorts and remembered how he’d thought to toss her over his knees, lift her gown and smack her behind until she screamed, for the con she’d pulled. He could jerk those little shorts off that curvy ass with no effort- He shook his head.
“Svetiessa,” his voice a chilled warning, “you get back here, right now. You do not want me to come and get you. Get in the bed and lie down.”
She halted. Sighed. “I need to undo my hair, and,” hearing his deep rumbling growl, she turned and moved gingerly back to where he stood by the bed. Keeping her eyes off the hulking warrior, she sat down on the mattress with a vexed sigh.
He hovered over her staring down at the top of her head. Speaking in cold even spurts, he snarled, “I said, get in the bed and lie down. Now. All the doctor’s hard work, and I am not returning an ill woman to her bráthair.”
Again, her features paled, her head lowered and there was a faint trembling in her hands. Her fear made no sense, before he left her with Krystian Ritrova, he would get out of her why she feared him so much.
But for now, he waited while she slid thin bare legs in the bed and lay on her back with her head on the pillow.
Looking up at him under lowered lashes, she mumbled through a yawn, “Your hair is unbraided.”
His long black hair hung down his chest and shoulders making him look more like a medieval warrior instead of his normal demon warrior. His smile crooked, he said softly, “Aye, it is.”
“Hmm.” She rolled over partially on her side and closed her eyes, murmured, “You’re kind of bossy you know.”
He smiled, said quietly, “Because I am the boss.” Dev watched her for a minute. When she didn’t move, he bent and pulled the pins from her hair and set them on the nightstand. Then he combed his long fingers through the curly locks, spreading them over the pillow.
Exhaling a soft sigh, Sveti rolled and lay on her back, the blanket fell to the side. Her hands moved up beside her head like she was surrendering. She was asleep.
Dev’s gaze fell to the tiny tight shirt that cradled her breasts like they were round pillows. Her beaded nipples had relaxed into soft nubs.
His eyes drifted down to the tiny shorts that outlined her young womanhood. His pants grew so tight he had to tug at them for relief. He pulled the sheet and blanket up to cover her. Then quickly left the room.
“Mara,” he said to the maid, “I do not want her out of that bed until morning. She argues with you, you tell her you will be punished if she does. I have a feeling that would have more impact on her than if I threatened her harm.”
Seeing Mara’s smile that he was correct, he nodded. “All right. No one comes in, and she does not leave the suite. In the morning you may leave to take care of your own needs. Right?”
She bent her head respectfully. “Aye, Sire.”
Closing the door, Dev said to the guard, “No one, except Mara, not even you, goes into her room. Clear?”
Keldon nodded sharply. The guard with short wheat colored hair combed to the side, kept his hawk nose level, he knew the Dravidian had seen him ogling the sexy little miss and was very displeased about it. His light blue eyes unblinking, he stared straight ahead
Dev strode down the corridor to another, and another, up some stairs, more corridors before he reached his own suite. Dragging a hand through his long locks as he entered the room, his majordomo presented himself.
“Sire,” he bowed his head. Then smiled. “You were with the human woman?” He had been with Dev for hundreds of years, long enough he was almost like a father to him.
“Aye.” His expression impassive, Dev went to a counter containing bottles of liquor. He grasped a bottle, pulled the stopper off, and poured the blue-tinted liquid into a glass.
“Is it true, they say she is extraordinarily beautiful, even beaten and emaciated?” Brahms followed behind Dev with his hands behind his back. He always wore black tails and a starched white shirt, his silver hair combed straight back.
One shoulder rose in casual disinterest. “Aye.” Dev tipped the glass to his mouth.
“And, they say she’s as sweet as the morning dove. True?”
Dev frowned at his glass, said nothing. He left to go to his office, knowing Brahms was smiling amused at his back.
********
Very early the following morning, Brahms had just finished braiding the dozens of Dev’s war braids when there was a rap at the door. Brahms went to open it.
Dev stood up starting to button his shirt, then stopped when he saw Keldon at the door.
Dev moved quickly to him, his brows down. “What are you doing here?”
Keldon looked confused. “Ah, you sent for me, Sire.”
His forehead furrowed, the ridge of brow hardened. “I did not. Explain yourself.”
Color crept up Keldon’s thick neck. Over the hawk nose his pale blue eyes darted to Brahms who always remained cool and composed with a slightly satirical smile. “Uh,” Keldon said to Dev, “Rianna Malone told me you said to come to you immediately. I uh, said I wasn’t to leave the prințesă’s door, not leave her alone, as the maid Mara had gone to-”
Grabbing the keycard from the guard’s hand, Dev shoved Keldon out of the way and sprinted down the hall.
Outside of Sveti’s door he heard a woman’s strident voice; it was not the young prințesă’s soft lilting tones. He threw the door open.
Sveti was on the floor holding her palm to her face where a bright red splotch marred her fair skin. Rianna stood in front of her in body clinging tights and a thin sweater that cut down the front almost to her navel.
A sharp move and he would know the color of her nipples. Not that he cared to. She clutched a knife in her hand.
“What the hell is going on?” Dev strode to Sveti, bent and grasped her arm pulling her to her feet. He moved her h
and to see her face. Tilting her chin, he could see the mark was clearly a handprint.
He turned to Rianna who was nonchalantly studying her nails. “Rianna, what the fuck are you doing here?”
The voluptuous woman took a menacing step towards Sveti, she had a good ten inches on the petite prințesă. “That bitch, Devilos, she is a criminal, she belongs in the brig with the other crooked convicts.”
She took another step towards Sveti, her arm raised with the knife in her hand ready to slash at her.
Dev moved in front of Sveti, his big body blocking her, tough hands planted on sinewy hips. His voice gruff disbelief, “You fucking hit her?”
Seeing his harsh face harden into sharp planes, the dark eyes flickering white, wisps of flames flashed around him, Rianna backed up, but said with a sneer, “Yes, she needs to know she can’t get away with her illicit behavior on our journey to her home. She puts the rest of us, you especially, my handsome prince, in danger.”
Holding the knife in one hand, she lifted the other to stroke his bare chest through the unbuttoned shirt.
His eyes blazed blinding white and narrowed, he grasped her wrist and twisted it, the knife fell to the carpet. He threw her hand in disgust.
Stunned, now nervous at his painful aggression, the tall brunette backed several feet away from him.
The furious warlord hissed, “Leave. Now. You touch her again and I will forget you are a female,” his lip curved in a snarl, the fangs descended and glistened in threat.
Rianna’s olive skin paled. She pulled in her wide lips and left the suite with a huff, slamming the door behind her.
Dev turned to Sveti, flames leaped at his feet.
The pastel ceiling lights gleamed off the wetness in her big blues. “I- I’m so sorry, uh, Sire. I didn’t mean to cause any more trouble, I swear.” She stepped away from him, her hand still over the red stain on her cheek trying to hide it in her embarrassment.
In frightened awe, she gawked at his fangs, the horns had also grown bigger, claws curled from his fingertips, his face seethed dark and fearsome.
Her gaze dropped, he had only buttoned one button on the bottom of his shirt. His massive chest covered with dark hair was partially visible. His torso so powerful she looked with vivid fear at it, yet, enthralled.
The flames disappeared. Murmuring, “Svetiessa,” he clasped his hands behind his back to move his claws from her sight, and willed his fangs and horns to retreat. “You did nothing wrong. She should never have come here much less strike you, or brandish a knife at you. She is lucky her cousin is a friend of má bráthair or she would cease to exist for that offense. I will, however, see to her discipline.”
Sveti’s mouth dropped, she paled. “No, please, you wouldn’t,” seeing his stoic expression, it was clear he would. “I- it is not worth a person’s wellbeing, I am not worth it.”
She moved to him and without thinking set her palm on his chest like Rianna had and appealed, “Please, Sire, don’t hurt her, please. I’m sure she didn’t mean anything, she probably…uh, already regrets it.”
Dev didn’t move, not even to look down at the small warm hand on his bare chest. His skin tingled under her innocent touch, and the tingle rifled down his chest, through his abdomen, straight to his shaft. Feeling it harden, he knew he needed to get away from her.
Rianna’s hands on him repulsed him, disgusted him. A trivial, light touch of Sveti’s and his body burned raging out of control.
Wide pure blue eyes studied him, she bit her bottom lip as if discerning was he going to hurt her and should she try to run now. But she didn’t move and the heat kept radiating across his chest from her small palm.
As his manhood continued to swell, his heavily hooded dark eyes flared at her. Devilos Dravidian wasn’t a nice being; he could, and possibly would, take her against her will. He has never raped a female before, he’d never had to, they throw themselves at him.
But, he knew this little human would deny him, and for some reason he couldn’t fathom, she turned him on like no other ever had. His demon’s lust razed his brain, whipping him into an uncontrollable fury that normally fed him in warring.
He could feel his eyes burning white, fangs descending again, and his horns along with his dick, enlarging. He had to get the hell out of there. The overwhelming desire to take her was consuming him, shredding his control, he felt the beast rising.
She was small, delicate, still fragile in her injuries; he could do irreparable damage to her in the frenzied sexual onslaught he would besiege on her, especially if she fought him.
He broke from her; his heavy boots clomped over the carpet to the door. Flinging it open, he said over his shoulder, “I will send one of my lieutenants, Bowie, to collect you for travel,” he sure as hell didn’t trust himself at the moment to be alone with her.
“He is blond with blue eyes, and has an annoying sense of humor. Allow no one else in but him. Keldon will be back at your door. I will see you on board the ship.” Before she could say a word he left.
Chapter Eight
At the knock on her door, Sveti went straight to it but Mara was already there looking through the peephole. The Sire had instructed her to keep the prințesă away from the door. He didn’t want a repeat of yesterday.
Mara’s stomach roiled at what happened to the young woman. That whore Rianna had waited until Mara was gone and tricked Keldon into leaving then actually struck the girl!
And she had a knife! What more would she have done if the Master hadn’t come? She let out her held breath and opened the door. The charming Bowie was there with the usual twinkle in his eye and grin on his handsome mouth.
“Hey, Mara, what’s doing?” the blond man greeted her cheerfully as he entered the room.
“All is well, at least at the moment, Lieutenant Busoni.” Mara smiled her welcome. Both looked over as Sveti came in. She trod warily to the lieutenant.
Shyly she asked in a hushed voice, “Lieutenant, are you Mr. Bowie? I remember you from the infirmary.”
He grinned at her and bowed. “At your service milady. I’ve come to escort you to the Sennseen.” At Sveti’s perplexed look he said, “The airship we’re to travel on. Dev will of course be captaining it.” More perplexity. He clarified, “Devilos Dravidian. His friends and brothers call him Dev.”
“We commoners call him, Sire,” Mara said with a short grin.
“Uh huh.” Sveti smiled absently, she called him Beast, and went to pick up her small case of clothes and toiletries. But Bowie was quicker and snatched it out from under her hand.
“I’ve got it, honey. You ready?” His lips pursed at the stricken look on her pretty face. Dev had told him there was something up with her and her half-brother. He’d seen for himself the asshole was inappropriately all over her.
Dev had intimated the prințesă was terrified of going home.
“Prințesă,” he started to ask her but she turned her back and made for the door. He followed her out and they walked side-by-side down the hall.
“Um,” he said, “that’s Bowie, Prințesă, not Mr. Bowie,” and grinned broadly at her.
Her own smile was bleak and forced. “Oh, okay. Please call me Sveti.” She chanced a quick glance at him.
He was quite handsome with thick blond hair and dark blue eyes, and a mischievous smile. He seemed friendly.
Mara appeared comfortable with him, so maybe he was safe, no, she shook her head. He was one of the beast’s lieutenants and therefore likely just as lethal and dangerous. Just not as scary looking. All of the lieutenants looked human, but Mara had told her they were from Resh so they were tons more powerful than humans, and they were immortal.
The beast was from Nasitar. Mara said they are a very private species. Not that much is known about them other than most of the men born there, and some females, train almost from birth as gaiscíoch, warriors.
They are a league of vicious hunters. Sort of waratorio bounty hunters. They were sought out by differing planets t
o retrieve the worst of the worst nefarious miscreants.
The ones that were too monstrous, too powerful, too deadly, for the regular policing agencies to capture, or kill.
Sveti thought to herself, that creature, Devilos Dravidian, looked to be the kind that would be savage enough, contain the raw strength and ruthless violence necessary to bring in the most dangerous, depraved felons in the universe.
His eyes, she shivered, enigmatic obsidian under hooded lids, like a predatory croc’s. All she saw in them was merciless aggression.
He looked almost human, except he had an exceptionally powerful build; his lieutenants were near his muscular size. But he had horns, and claws, and fangs.
Recalling the flames that flounced around him when he was disturbed, a shiver of alarm rippled through her. And, again, those formidable black eyes that had blazed blinding white.
She’d seen it twice now. Once that time she was transporting out of his hands on the ship, and the second time was when they were aimed in fury at Rianna. He must be concerned about bringing Sveti in one piece to Krystian.
Keeping pace with Bowie, Sveti wondered, hoped, she would not be anywhere near the beast on the ship. Besides scaring the life out of her, he confused her. She touched her lips. He had kissed her that day she was on board his ship with Miles, for the life of her she could not figure out why.
He had caught her when she fell off the chair, he insisted she go to bed when she was so weary yesterday, and he’d been furious with Rianna for attacking her. And, she took a deep breath; he had rescued her from torture and certain death at the hands of Illyios Gha’auvin and the Amphicyonids.
Though not actually a rescue, he had taken her prisoner for the believed deception he thought she’d played on him.
Why he would storm a fortress and wipe out the entire evil occupants just to take her prisoner made no sense to Sveti. If he’d left her there, Dr. Jamez said she would have been dead by day’s end, and he would have been avenged by her death without all the trouble.
Devil's Prince (Satan's Brood Book 1) Page 6
