The Demon Prince

by Ann Aguirre

  If she accepts, her family can’t refuse me. We’ve come too far.

  This time, his arrival was much different than before. Many of the Exiles who had come with him to Ash Valley were dead, and now he was a lone petitioner, ringing the gate bell in the dark. It took a little while for someone to answer.

  “I don’t recognize you,” a guard said.

  “Prince Alastor Vega of Golgerra. I’ve come to collect my mate, Sheyla Halek.” There, that was firm.

  A startled exclamation, quickly cut off. “Come to the postern door right fucking now. We don’t open these gates anymore.”

  That sounded ominous, and when he was dragged inside the hold, he understood the reaction. Alastor recognized this angry cat as one of Sheyla’s brothers. Zaran, I think.

  “Explain yourself.”

  Calmly he broke the young man’s hold. No fighting. He’ll be my kin soon enough. “I’d rather do that once the whole family is gathered.”

  “And I’d rather kill you than let you take one step closer to my sister.”

  “She’ll know if you do, and she’ll never forgive you.”

  The Animari sagged, bracing himself against the wall. “You’re mated. Is that true?”

  There was only one way to convince Zaran, even if Sheyla would hate the revelation. Hell, she’d probably hate that Alastor could feel it, but her sadness was a weight that barely let him breathe. “Your sister… she’s weeping. Ask how I know.”

  Zaran swore. “Come with me, asshole.”

  30.

  Sheyla had never doubted her own eyes before. True, they were red and swollen, but her vision remained unimpaired. Nonetheless, her mother was still standing in the doorway in a nightgown, Alastor and Zaran behind her.

  Alastor.

  And Zaran.

  None of this made any sense. It was three in the morning, and… this must be a dream. Since that was the case, it did no harm to come into the living room. No harm in devouring his face with her eyes and admiring the intricate braids whose significance she was barely beginning to understand.

  “I made tea,” Mum said.

  Sheyla nodded. “The obvious response.”

  Her parents seemed strangely cowed for a dream like this one. Usually, they shouted just as they did in real life, but now they were stealing glances at Alastor like he was made of shadows and moonlight. When Avi and Darvid crept out of their rooms, things felt a little more real, especially when she noticed Avi’s ragged cuticles. That wasn’t the sort of thing her subconscious usually showed her.

  “I apologize for my poor timing,” Alastor was saying. “But I couldn’t wait a moment longer to speak with you. I’m aware you have certain expectations of Sheyla, and that I don’t fit your criteria. Even knowing this, I’m still asking for your daughter. If you entrust her to me, she will not only become a queen in my lands, I will also treat her as one, for she’s the ruler of my heart, and there can be no joy for me without her.”

  “Sheyla,” her father repeated. “Our Sheyla.” As if Alastor might’ve stumbled into the wrong house and asked for someone else’s daughter.

  Slowly it dawned on her that she was having what appeared to be a formal marriage meeting in Zaran’s old shirt. She pinched her inner arm, closed her eyes and waited, but when she opened them, all the players were still in place.

  “Sheyla can’t be queen of the Golgoth,” her mother said. ‘She doesn’t even like most of her pride mates, let alone—”

  “Does no one care what Shey wants?” Avi cut in softly.

  It was hard to say if Avi realized he’d spared Alastor’s feelings when he prevented Mum from spouting the slur. She mouthed a silent thank-you and her youngest brother smiled. Of them all, she liked him best. His quiet mirrored hers, though it concealed a passion for art, not science. She’d already convinced her parents several times not to drag him off to the seer because he could spend hours staring at clouds moving across the sky.

  “I do,” Alastor said. “If she rejects me, then your blessing becomes a moot point.”

  Frowning, her father worried at his knuckles, then glanced at her. “Is this the life you’d choose?”

  “Yes.” She said it before she even knew the answer consciously.

  Whatever accepting Alastor meant, she would bear it. Once she would’ve said she didn’t have the capacity to bond with anyone. Now that it had happened, she wanted to nurture the connection.

  “You’ll really be a queen?” Mum asked in a marveling tone.

  Alastor inclined his head. “When I take Golgerra. For the time being, we’ll remain in Hallowell. There’s much to be done.”

  Darvid poked her. “I’m not calling you Your Majesty. Not ever. Unless… does this mean we’re princes now?” His dark eyes sparkled.

  “We don’t acknowledge royalty,” Zaran growled. “Or did you already forget you’re Animari?”

  “It’s as he said,” Alastor told Darvid gently. “I could convey a title on you, though, if you like, such as Grand Duke Darvid.”

  He’s already charming them.

  “Your Grace, you’re already up way past your bedtime. Take Avi and go to sleep.” Her father turned to Zaran. “Aren’t you supposed to be on watch?”

  He swore, but he didn’t argue. With a pointed look at Alastor, he stomped out. Her mother had stars in her eyes, so Sheyla could well imagine that she was entertaining the possible bragging rights.

  Pap didn’t seem nearly so taken with this proposal. “You speak very prettily, but Sheyla isn’t like other girls. She’s neither given her heart nor seen it broken. If we send her away with you, I’m afraid she’ll be lonely, or that you’ll tire of her. She’s not made for a concubine’s life.”

  “With all due respect, sir, your daughter is no mere girl. She’s a remarkable woman. I could not have aided Hallowell without her support, and I do not say that lightly. I would sooner carve out my own heart than set her aside. Why do you think I disregarded all obligations and chased her as soon as she left me?”

  “You love me,” Sheyla said. “Not just in wartime.”

  He wasn’t simply convincing her parents, she saw. These words were for her too, dispelling any doubts she might have.

  “It will be you or no one, shalai. If you refuse me, I’ll join the Order of St. Casimir, drink myself sick with that enormous bear, and sob nightly over how you broke my heart.”

  “I think you have to take him,” Mum said. “He’s too pretty to be a monk.”

  Her lips twitched. “Stop. Too many people need you for you ever to behave so selfishly.”

  He offered a faint smile that revealed little. As ever, his eyes did the talking. They said, You know me well.

  “I’m caught. True, I’m needed by many, but you’re the one I need.”

  Since her parents were no longer objecting vigorously, she had only one question more. “Can a Golgoth Queen research rare illnesses? I won’t give up my work, and I’ve already decided that I don’t want to continue as a practitioner.”

  “My Queen can do whatever the hell she likes,” he answered with the assurance she’d come to love. “But what prompted the decision?”

  In telling him about the boy who died in the bunker, Sheyla barely noticed when her parents slipped away. Their withdrawal indicated approval, and it was nearly four, so she took Alastor’s hand and tugged him toward her bedroom.

  “Am I allowed to stay?”

  “You’re family now. Our home is yours.” Such a simple thing, and it was the Animari way; she wasn’t prepared for how tears welled up, for how urgently he pulled her into the dark room and pressed her against the door. His mouth came down on hers with a desperate sweetness, and he kissed her as if it was the first time.

  “I was prepared to come back,” he said between roving kisses. “Again and again. To beg. To camp in the hallway.”

  She muffled a sound as he found the spot on her neck, dug her nails into his back. “Let’s not talk about my parents.”

  �
�Agreed.”

  His entire body was hot and quivering. Maybe it was because she’d actually left him, but she’d never seen him so needy. As he walked her back to the bed, he skimmed his fingers into her panties, stroking with each step they took toward her bed.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Before, I said I need you. If you ever leave me again, I’ll shave my head.”

  That’s their deepest symbol of mourning.

  Touched, Sheyla wrapped her arms around him and kissed him, all melting delight. Alastor’s hands roved her back, her hips, cupping her ass to pull her against him. There was nothing of the playful lover about him now. Sheyla loved all of him, all angles, all sides, because he didn’t make her feel that she needed to change a single thing. I am perfection in his eyes.

  “I don’t think I can be elegant,” he gasped into her neck. “Or patient.”

  Just as well, she didn’t need any of those things. She pulled him on top of her, and he pushed inside as soon as they hit the bed. He panted into her ear, thrusting in strokes so wild that she had to bite him. That only drove him harder, and she wrapped her legs around his hips. He was racing toward the finish, eyes clenched shut. He kept whispering, “Fuck, Sheyla. Fuck. Just… mmm.” Sexy little gasp.

  He felt good, but the pleasure she swam in wasn’t enough to make her come, so she focused on him, watching how he reacted to each minute movement. The way his throat worked, the sweat trickling down his jaw… she licked it and whispered, “I love you.”

  Too much.

  Her hot breath against his ear, his cock working inside her slick cunt. Alastor pushed deep, held, and came. Long, urgent pulses. He moved just a little through the aftershocks.

  It was impossible to deny that he’d just behaved like a pig, but he couldn’t stop smiling. “You. Love me.”

  “Definitely,” she said.

  “And I adore you, as I’m sure you’ve gathered.”

  She tugged at his braids. “Prove it.”

  Alastor required no prompting, though it did remind him of that first time when she’d ordered him to his knees. His mouth watered as he kissed a path south.

  “I’ll make it up to you. Since I had one without you, I’ll give you two.”

  “Promises,” she breathed.

  He could already see that her clit was stiff, but he didn’t go straight for it. Now that he’d fucked the fear of losing her out of his system, he could focus on her pleasure. She took the reins almost as soon as he started licking, positioning his head with demanding hands.

  “Here. Harder.”

  Alastor wasn’t about to argue; Sheyla fucked his face to a quick, intense clitoral orgasm that left her groaning. At first, he tried to shush her and wondered why she was laughing.

  “Animari construction. Good sound proofing. Otherwise, we couldn’t live with each other.”

  “Ah. So, I can make you scream as much as I wish this next time.”

  She caught his head before he could resume the delicious work. “That’s not how I want my second orgasm.”

  By now he should be used to the way she took charge, but the thrill still went straight to his cock. Since he had to take charge regarding the rest of the world, he fucking loved doing as she wished in private. Controlling his erection was impossible as she rolled over and whispered the filthiest demand in his ear.

  “Play with your cock for me. Oil it up. I want to watch your face. But you can’t come. If you hold it long enough, I’ll let you have my ass.” Her voice dropped low, teasing him. “I’ve seen how you look at it, the way you touch me. You want it there.”

  Fuck yes, he did. His head felt like it might explode.

  “Have you, before?” he asked hoarsely.

  “Toys. I liked them. Suspect I’ll like this more.”

  If she wanted a show, he would strive to be entertaining. His knees would hardly hold him. “Where’s the oil?”

  She got a small bottle from the bedside table and he poured some, warmed it in his palm.

  “Get comfortable, love,” she said, patting the pillows.

  The endearment reacted on him like a tug on his cock, and it was all he could do not to reach for her instead of settling back to wank like she wanted. His entire body flushed beneath the warmth of her gaze; she took in everything, until he wanted to show her more. Eyes on hers, he worked his cock just as he would on his own. He liked it quick and vicious, and he took himself to the edge before stopping. His cock was leaking, and he couldn’t control his quivering stomach.

  “Again,” she whispered.

  He could hardly speak. “Give me a moment, love. If I go on, I’ll spill all over myself. I can, if that’s what you want.”

  She kissed the sweat off his forehead. “Then take two minutes. Rest.”

  In these precious moments, it didn’t matter what was going on in Hallowell or that he still needed to liberate Golgerra. Sheyla, taking control of him, felt like flying. When his breathing steadied, he jerked his cock for her again. This time it was even harder to stop.

  He shuddered and moaned, wordlessly begging her, and she was all fire, all beauty, when she finally came to him. She’d already prepared herself while he worked, and when she rolled over and raised her ass for him, he almost came all over her back.

  I’m not a king. I’m a fucking animal.

  “Have me,” she said.

  She was relaxed and ready. The first thrust almost sent him. Shaking, Alastor held on as he pushed deep and reached around her hip to stroke her slick lips, her aching clit. Her need surged through him, nearly eclipsing his own.

  She’s so excited. Have to make her…

  That was all he knew or cared about. With each stroke of his cock, of his fingers, he willed it, losing himself, until his own satisfaction was secondary, elusive. Her orgasm came with a furious clench and scream, Sheyla scrabbling at the covers. She wanted to bite him, he could tell, and he kept moving, until she went again, her body going boneless beneath him.

  “Do it,” she mumbled.

  Alastor hadn’t even realized he was waiting for permission but when she said it, he let go, so deep and hard that his lower back ached.

  Trembling, he eased out of her and then reached for her, arms and legs clinging in a sticky tangle. He kissed her eyelids, her ears, her lips, her chin. “Don’t make me live without you. Don’t ever let me come home to an empty flat again.”

  “I won’t,” she said sleepily. “You’re mine. No going back now.”

  He’d never been happier. At some point, he must have slept because a tap on the head roused him. Sheyla, freshly showered and dressed. He took his turn in the lavatory without making eye contact with her parents. Soundproofing or no, by the dark look he was getting from her father, the older man had some idea what went on in her bedroom last night.

  Dammit. There was no way he was apologizing for something he didn’t remotely regret, but still. Awkward.

  While Sheyla was in the bedroom, packing, he sat down with her father in the living room. “Do you mind if I ask a question?”

  “You just asked one,” Mr. Halek pointed out.

  He could see where Sheyla got some of her literal tendencies. “Another then.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Why did you give us your blessing?”

  “I haven’t, exactly. But I’m not standing in your way, either.”

  “Because…?”

  “Last night I saw how you look at her. Like she’s the only star in the sky.”

  “She is,” Alastor said.

  “And I saw how she looks at you.”

  “Which is…?” He thought he knew, but it’d be good to confirm with her father.

  “Like she’s been speaking a different language her whole life and she’s finally found someone who understands it.”

  Since Sheyla had said nearly the same thing—in different words—he let the sweetness sink in. “I’ve never had a higher compliment.”

  “On the surface, that sounds like nonsense b
ut I want to believe you mean it. Last night, you asked her about her career decision, and she wanted to tell you. Really, that’s enough for me. I’ve never seen my girl willing to explain herself to anyone.”

  She is the lock and I am the key. That was a truth for the two of them alone; they were complementary in ways others would never understand. Nor did they need to.

  Sheyla soon came out with her luggage. The future might be uncertain, but if she was walking beside him, Alastor could face anything. There would be fences to mend with the wolves and Eldritch, more damned meetings at the ministry, but he had never felt more like royalty than the moment he decided she must be his queen.

  “We’ll visit you in Hallowell,” her mother said, sniffling.

  “Soon,” her father added.

  “And don’t forget to make me a Grand Duke.” Darvid offered a bright smile.

  Alastor’s was startled to receive hugs from everyone except Zaran, who looked as if he’d rather punch his princely face in. “Be good to her,” Zaran snapped.

  I’m part of a family again. And none—well, hardly any of them—want to kill me. Reflexively, he touched the names on his arm through his sleeve. In time, he might even tell these new brothers about the ones he’d lost.

  “She is the greatest gift I’ll receive in my lifetime,” he said softly. “There’s no way I can do anything but cherish her.”

  “What if I hate being a queen?” Sheyla teased.

  He kissed her nose. “Then I’ll abdicate and open Golgerra to free elections, if you find the role burdensome. Whatever you want of me, you shall have, my precious, clever love.”

  Her brothers made gagging noises and her mother pretended to stumble against the wall. “Please take him before I swoon.”

  Sheyla’s father only gave a nod, as if he’d expect no less. “Be happy, both of you.”

  Alastor locked eyes with Sheyla, who was so lovely that his heart flew to her all over again. Before meeting her, he’d never known that home could be a person instead of a place, but anywhere she was, he would be at peace.