by Gaja J. Kos
“Yes, amāyō, I’m coming,” he rasped.
As was I.
Our screams entwined as we both reached our peaks. My arms failed to hold my weight, and when I collapsed, Breccan clutched me to him as if giving up even an inch of our proximity was something unthinkable.
I really didn’t complain.
With him still inside me, I lay my head on his chest, breathing in his intoxicating scent, and savored the comforting thrum of his power.
Breccan’s absence struck me as almost tangible when I finally crawled out of the shower with prunes instead of fingers. I chucked the towel on a handy rack and padded over to the sprawling dresser to examine the bundle and box that hadn’t been there before.
As my fingers skimmed the elegant pink packaging I’d recognize anywhere, Breccan’s residual energy fluttered across my skin. I opened the box and shifted aside the paper.
Whoa.
The lacy black lingerie set was even more gorgeous in person than in the promo email I’d seen just a little over a week ago—my favorite from the entire new collection. While I rarely splurged on undergarments not exactly suited for my line of work, I did treat myself occasionally.
Something close to a purr left my lips when, after a quick disinfectant sweep of my power, I severed the tags and shimmied into the set.
Perfect.
With a smile I couldn’t wipe from my face, I moved on to the clothes. The sturdy material slid across my fingertips like silk. I had no idea what the T-shirt was made of, but I liked it. The pants, likewise, screamed combat-appropriate, but when I put them on, there was nothing but comfort.
Breccan had even left black socks to go with the ensemble.
I thrust my hair back and studied my reflection. Bad-fucking-ass.
Even more than how amazing the end result looked, I was astonished by how everything was just my size. Not an easy feat to accomplish with my strong-thighs-narrow-waist ratio. After all, most of my leather goods had to be custom-made.
But these—they fit like a dream.
While I wasn’t the kind of demon to swoon over gifts, I couldn’t deny this one was not only handy given my previous tattered state, but thoroughly enjoyable. Most of all, however, I was relieved to find that it wasn’t weird as presents after sex had the tendency to be. Sex that continued to suffuse the bedroom like a lover’s perfume.
I ran my hands down my new clothes one last time, then walked through the open door into the tastefully decorated living room, searching for any sign of Breccan.
I found it in the open plan kitchen and dining area. Though not in the way I’d expected.
My laugh curled through the idyllic scene.
Illuminated by the same imitation of sunlight I’d woken up to, the table brimming with food really seemed like something straight out of a movie scene. The only hint I hadn’t walked into some surreal dream came in the form of what I loved best.
Irish fucking coffee.
My hands wrapped around the steaming cup before I even sat down. Breccan had really outdone himself.
I nearly drank the entire damn thing when my growling stomach alerted me I needed more than just liquid sustenance. After all the fun I’d had with Breccan last night and this morning, I probably shouldn’t have been surprised.
As I stuffed myself with several croissants and sampled the marmalade spreads stored in adorable miniature jars, the events of the previous day—or two, since I had no idea how long I’d actually been out—invaded my mind.
I eased the rush of information, sifting through it in a state of detachment I didn’t particularly like, but came like second nature to me. Though Vuyasin’s death persisted to be a phantom weight in my chest. I chewed another bite of the buttery croissant.
My father was usually more trouble than he was worth—and certainly harbored no warm feelings towards me—but he had been a constant presence in my life. The one who’d taken me in, and, yes, handed me over to Yelena. But while the memories were decidedly on the darker side, everything he’d done had nonetheless made me into who I was now.
And for that, I was grateful.
I secreted away that light, then turned to the bare facts.
Yelena had gone back on her word.
Reiner killed my father, Hieraven, and the rest of their cronies, then booked it with the amulet.
I was a demon on the run, fucking a lord who should have by all means been my enemy.
That last brought a grin to my face, so I locked the thought away and focused on the first two bullet points.
I propped myself against the high-backed leather chair, cradling my mug, and stared absentmindedly at the simple, yet elegant room bathed in the glow so similar to the late-morning light of the mortal realm I would have considered it authentic if it weren’t coming from within the high walls.
My thoughts, however, veered in the direction that, sadly, was all too real.
Yelena.
I presumed the only reason I’d made it out of that damn house alive was thanks to the years I’d spend away from the Shadow World. Yelena had trained me, supervised my progress when others had taken over. But I learned a few more tricks once I was on my own.
Her lack of insight into the true scope of my skills and depths of power saved me back there. Because she’d certainly sent enough demons after me to finish the job—had they been dealing with the old me.
My luck aside, her actions could only mean Yelena had taken a turn for the worse. Or was threatened by my existence.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t claim to be surprised if it were the latter.
Before, when Tevan, her second-in-command, had still been alive and I was just a teenager, she had no difficulties controlling her pet assassin. I might have been powerful in my own right, but if Yelena had chosen to, she could have crushed me like a meager ant. After Tevan had been murdered, however, things became…different.
Yelena maintained a tight leash while keeping me at arm’s length at the same time. I could tell she was shielding herself. Through metaphysical and physical means alike.
I poured myself some water from the carafe and let it glide down my throat, cooling the heat within that always surfaced on the wings of the past.
Especially recent past.
Regardless of how I felt now, there had been a time when I craved Yelena’s praise. Her approval.
Naturally, the shift in her attitude had stung. Though only briefly.
Her loyal demons became a permanent fixture whenever she summoned me, the secrets of her court I had always been privy to suddenly off-limits. Nothing obvious, though. Yelena was far too smart for that. But it didn’t escape my notice that any information she divulged merely scratched the surface.
I brushed my thumb along the rim, my reflection in the water-filled glass distorted.
Fitting, since that was a dead ringer for how I felt until my misguided priorities shifted and I realized Yelena was actually doing me a favor.
By closing off her inner circle, she granted me the opportunity to slip into the mortal world after the War and create a life for myself there.
Now that I thought about it, Yelena would more than likely have lashed out sooner if it weren’t for my decision to leave. As it was, I barely ever crossed into her domain. Even when dragging Vuyasin’s ass out of trouble, I made sure I was in and out as fast as possible.
A low growl rose in my chest, blue embers of demon fire flickering at my fingertips and licking at the glass.
Vuyasin.
The bastard just had to go and fall on her radar, bringing me to her attention as well.
I doused the flames, then reached for the remnants of my coffee. It was lukewarm at best, but it helped mask the bitterness in my mouth.
There was nothing more to dissect when it came to my lovely liege, so I moved on to the second subject. Which was basically no more than a jumble of individual threads intersecting at so many points that it formed a knot I’d much rather slice through than try to unravel. Actual
ly, that didn’t sound like a bad plan at all.
It didn’t really matter that Hieraven, my father, and the rest of the company had wanted the amulet. Power was power to them, whatever its form. The only thing I had to focus on now was tracking it through Reiner or Sacred Skies.
But first I had a lord to talk to.
After a quick search of the rooms proved Breccan was, indeed, nowhere in sight, I crossed from his private residence into the “public” area of what I could only call a palace. Power lingered in the air, the presence of wards seeping through the outer walls. But contrary to what I expected, there were almost no people here. Clearly Breccan didn’t appreciate a constant audience eyeing his every move.
Another point in my book.
A statuesque demon who introduced herself as Arista found me wandering the many abandoned, but pristine chambers. Her posture and form-fitting leather marked her for a warrior, and the longer I trailed a step behind as she led me to Breccan, the more I suspected she was his second-in-command.
While I had done a job or two in this territory, there had been no real need to study the hierarchy. Something I regretted in hindsight.
We continued down another empty hallway, our boots resonating like twin drums on the stone tiles.
If Arista was surprised that her liege was temporarily housing one of Yelena’s demons, she didn’t show it, though her magic continued to monitor mine. Unobtrusive, but definitely there. I respected her professionalism.
“He’s inside,” she said when we reached a pair of double-winged ornate doors that were almost twice as tall as I was.
“Thank you.”
Arista inclined her head, her long fiery red braid catching the light, then let me pass with a parting sweep of her power.
Breccan’s presence wrapped around me the instant I crossed the threshold, just as intoxicating as it had been this morning. But with my resolve anchored in my core, it wasn’t too hard to resist the temptation.
Though the fact that we were both clothed definitely helped.
I entered the vintage study. Breccan looked up from the documents spread across the massive desk he’d been studying, his long white-blond hair draped neatly over his shoulders. Okay, so the temptation might have still been there. But I managed to keep my hands to myself.
His mismatched eyes softened as he took me in. He gestured to the sitting area set around an unlit fireplace in the right-hand corner of the space. I claimed one of the brocade armchairs, Breccan the other.
“Was the breakfast to your liking?” he asked, just a touch of amusement underlining his tone.
“You know well it was.”
With the Irish coffee he’d made, how couldn’t it be?
A single corner of his lips curled up in a brief smile before he turned his gaze to the window overlooking a shadow-and-tree-filled inner courtyard.
“I apologize for slipping away, but I had matters to take care of.”
I swatted his apology away. “I know you have a court to run, Breccan. Honestly, you’ve spent more time with me than I expected.”
“Any regrets?”
“No.” I laughed, snorted, then laughed some more. “Fuck no. And thank you,” I added quietly, “for everything.”
Breccan leaned back, casual yet royal as his powerful frame dominated the armchair, and studied me. More interest than desire, though the latter was undoubtedly there.
His deep voice rolled against me. “What do you intend to do now, Crina?”
An expectant silence stretched between us as I sampled the words on my tongue. I wasn’t about to change my mind, but given this was a monumental fucking decision, simply blurting it out felt wrong somehow.
Gently, Breccan prompted me with an arched eyebrow.
Right.
I sucked in a breath and laced my fingers together. “I want to pledge allegiance to your court.”
Chapter 22
Silence was not the answer I expected.
“You swore,” I said softly, even when it took everything to keep my anger from leaking all over the damn place. “You swore that you would protect me from Yelena. That should I choose to, I could pledge my allegiance to you. I…” I exhaled, then tried again. “I counted on you.”
“You still can.”
I frowned. “Then what—”
“What was it like for you yesterday?” Breccan propped his elbow on the armrest and his chin against his knuckles. “This morning?”
I bristled. “Is this some sort of trick question? What’s sex got to do with anything?”
If he wanted confirmation that he was extraordinary, he could have it. Though I hadn’t pegged him for the petty type.
Breccan hooked his thumb beneath his chin, then slowly drew his index finger across his lips. He was sin incarnate, the bastard, but the shuttered expression on his face kept the words under lock and key.
“We’re compatible, Crina.”
I would have laughed if his tone wasn’t so grim. Still, I couldn’t help lifting one eyebrow as I crossed my arms. “And that’s a problem because…?”
“I’m not the kind of demon to take a mate. And I would hate to see you hurt.”
Oh. Ooooh. He meant that compatibility.
I went still like a deer in a rustling wood, wishing I had a cup of coffee to hide behind. But there was nothing in the room to fidget with. Nothing but the two facing armchairs, so fucking close Breccan probably had no difficulties seeing every fine hue of mortification whip across my face.
Gods, I was an ass.
I hadn’t even considered why the sex had been so good. I kind of figured someone with ages of experience and a cock to die for was reason enough.
But every demon, even a half breed like me, was in its nature a being of energy. And while our sacred mating bond could be established with one person only, there were a lot more…candidates…to choose from. Anyone with a compatible energy signature could become a mate if that was what the involved parties wanted.
It was a conscious decision to accept the bond. But one that grew infinitely harder with proximity.
One that, sometimes, could be made in the heat of the moment.
An orgasm is a prime example of the latter.
I shifted deeper back in the seat, my hands curled in my lap. Breccan’s gaze burned holes in my cold yet burning face, but I didn’t dare look at him.
Not when I felt every moment of my two decades and some change compared to his millennia.
“Crina…”
I shook my head, the thunderous cascade of thoughts overwhelming my mind.
Breccan and I already had sex. Several times.
More than likely it was only thanks to him being a demon lord that we hadn’t allowed ourselves to be swept away, accept the bond without truly thinking about the consequences. Talk about a close fucking call. Shit, I had no idea how compatible energy even felt until now.
No wonder he was so intoxicating.
I curled my fingers into fists, then slowly flattened them against my thighs and looked up. Despite my better judgment, the words nonetheless stung as I said, “I understand you have no wish for a mate, Breccan.”
“It will be difficult, amā—” His jaw clenched, scar stark against his hardened features. “It will be difficult, Crina, if you accept to be under my command. Even if it’s only a bond between liege and subject, the connection will still bring us closer. Do you believe you can withstand the longing?”
A part of me wanted to snarl that he shouldn’t be so full of himself to think I’d long for him, but deep down, I knew the question was just. I was drawn to him. While I didn’t crave a mating bond, exactly, I coveted the feel of his body, the sound of his laugh. The way he made me feel… I didn’t even know how to fucking describe it.
Happy seemed so disgustingly plain, and safe made me sound like a damsel in distress, which was a huge no-no. Even if Breccan had saved me when I’d materialized in his office, beaten raw.
Ah, crap.
Breccan’s gaze, while still piercing, came across softer, almost comforting as he studied me while I pulled myself together. Priorities. Priorities were all that mattered.
I could fight the attraction between us if it meant staying alive. At least for long enough to track down that godsdamned amulet and kill everyone responsible for the attack on Hieraven’s house.
Squaring my shoulders, I looked Breccan straight in the eye and nodded. “Do it.”
He didn’t press me again.
Instead, he unsheathed a silver dagger and sliced it across his corded arm. Blood welled from the wound—bright and laced with power.
I dropped to my knees before him.
Not a decision I actively made, but rather some ancient tug that awoke inside me and guided me through the proper steps of the ritual. I brought my lips to Breccan’s forearm, then pressed them gently against the wound.
Just as his blood filled my mouth, his energy swept through my body. My fingers wrapped around his arm as this ancient, primordial presence that was him yet something more ravaged my insides. The power erased every last trace of the hold Yelena had on me, and once I was an empty vessel with no allegiance, a free-flowing component of the Shadow World that had to be tethered, I replaced the cleared space with pure Breccan.
With my head bowed, I followed the bloom of the presence, felt it seep into my pores and settle there. But it wasn’t just Breccan who deposited his essence within me. A breath of who I was separated from myself and rose to the surface where the power consumed it.
I gasped as the bond between us sealed.
My mind spun in circles, and every nerve burned with the change.
Then nothing.
I probed and prodded around myself until I located that miniature core, tying me to my liege.
As I licked the trail of blood from my lips, I released Breccan’s arm, then lifted my gaze to his.
He straightened to his full height and rested his palm atop my head. “Rise, Crina. As a full member of my court.”
My legs propelled me of their own volition.
