“They probably thought me Wrath. I would carry the same blood signature as him. It’s why they vanished. My sire’s work has many layers. Wrath’s reckoning on the damned, once given, reoccurs daily for eternity. Yeah, they definitely wouldn’t want to be in his sight again.”
Her gaze a little wary now, she studied him. “One day you’ll be Wrath, you’ll have to go to Hell and do the same, right?”
“Yeah.”
“You really are the big bad, aren’t you?”
“Scared?”
She clutched the ends of the sliding bath sheet. “No.”
He had to crush the smile that would surface. Gods, he doubted Saia was ever afraid of him. Unable to hold out any longer as the need to touch her grew, he pushed back her wet hair and trailed his lips along her jaw. “I must present you later this evening—a sort of introduction to Wrath’s legions, so they will all know who you are.” She stiffened, tried to pull back, but he tightened his hold on her waist. “I’ll be with you.”
He slid his lips over hers, not pushing, waiting… Then, a soft sigh escaped her, and her mouth parted. Relief, along with a groan of pure need escaping him, he deepened the kiss...
A knock sounded, breaking the sensual spell. Forcing himself to leave her luscious mouth, he scanned. The trackers were back.
“Why don’t you rest for a while? I have something that needs my attention.”
“No.” She grabbed his shirt, her features paling. He released her grip on him and pressed his lips to her knuckles. “I need to talk to those scouts. And I have more guards posted here, you won't be alone.”
“It’s just…” Her chest rose and fell. “I don’t mean to be clingy, I…I guess I'm still a little shaken.”
Tenderness for his mate overwhelmed him. “You aren’t clingy, baby. You are one of the bravest people I know.” He cupped her face, everything inside him morphing to absolute resolve. “When it comes to you, Saia, I’ll flatten realms, let the blood of men and demon flow to keep you safe because you are all that matters. All will know this.”
Those beautiful dark eyes blinked at his oath. When she finally nodded, Riley pressed his lips to hers once more then left the bathroom.
Out in the corridor, the demon scouts waiting for him nodded. “We have her.”
Riley glanced at the two older, hard-eyed guards who stood near the door. He sent a message for Ikaria with one of them. Then waited.
When she appeared a few minutes later, he told her what he required. “Don’t leave her, not for anything—I don’t care who’s dying.”
Color streaked her face, and she nodded. She had also been a pawn in Saia’s abduction.
He headed for the ground floor. Once in the courtyard, he flashed to the outer fringes of the citadel and the holding cells.
He strode into the dank basement, thick with wet sulfuric air, and down several winding passages. His anger morphed into a deadly chill when he spotted the female. Young and unassuming in her drab dress, her expression remained unreadable. He had no idea who she was, and in that moment, he realized he would stop at nothing; he would do anything to keep his mate safe. Even become like his sire.
No emotions, just a need to do what he was born for. No pleasure came with the realization, no disgust either. Just truth, an acceptance that settled into his soul as easily as Saia’s light had.
“Your name?”
She scowled. Her pale skin took on splodges of red, her dark eyes defiant. She didn't show the fear usually found when judged guilty in this echelon. “You would choose a weak mortal?”
His gaze trapped hers. “You forget what I am. Your name?”
“It’s Ali Cruda, my lord,” the scout answered.
“You dare strike at my mate. Leave her in a place no demon, let alone a living being would risk entering?” His words had ice coating the dungeon bars. Warily, she stepped back.
He probed her mind and found her mental shields locked tight. Obviously, she’d been well versed about him and his ability to read minds. He willed her mind to his, applied pressure, and her shields cracked like glass, splintering into tiny pieces. Her eyes widened as he waded through the murky recesses in search of the truth.
Denali. Damn bloody female! He should have known. She wanted Saia out of the way, and this female went a step further.
Nicor needed to keep his sibling in line. Or he’d do it for him.
“With intent to kill my mate, your life is forfeited,” he said coldly. His gaze still on hers, he said to the guards, “Bind her abilities and take her to the place she left my mate. In the morning, torch her remains. There will be no rebirth for you.”
“No.” The first sign of fear crossed cross her face. “Nooo!”
He strode out from the cell, her curses resonating around him, wanting her chance at rebirth. Yeah, all wished for rebirth and a better life, but unfortunately, most stayed the same. Such was the way of a dark soul.
Chapter 16
After Riley had left, Saia sat on the wooden bench near the towel shelf for a long while and stared at her healed hands, the claw marks no longer there…Christ, now she had to go down and be presented as Riley’s mate to an army of demons.
Her stomach heaved. Bile rushed up her throat. She shot up and vomited into the basin, feeling as if her chest would split apart. Breathing hard, she opened the faucet and splashed cool water on her face. With shaky hands, she retrieved another towel, dried her face, and finally rubbed her wet hair.
A rough sigh rolling out of her, she realized she couldn’t hide in here forever.
A knock sounded. Hastily, she shoved back the tousled strands, her heart thudding like a trapped animal.
Ikaria hurried inside, carrying a black wooden box, and over her arm, she’d draped a silky red fabric.
It took Saia a moment for her breathing to settle into an easy rhythm again.
“Saia, I'm really grateful you are safe. We were so worried.”
Perhaps she and Riley were, because Saia doubted anyone else was concerned by her disappearance.
“She, the servant, said my mi’jan, my mother, had been hurt by blood-demons…” Shame tightened Ikaria’s attractive features. “I live here, I know about most demons’ proclivity for duplicity. I should never have left you.”
“You couldn’t have known, I didn't either…” She tried to ease the girl’s remorse, realizing that heifer, Denali, had used them both. Saia explained what had happened. “She told me you were with Riley and didn't want me to worry because he was growing worse…I couldn’t sit by and do nothing.”
“Denali should be dragged naked by hellhounds through the wastelands.” Ikaria’s aqua eyes burned with fury. She left the clothes and the box on the bench, then said, “I can see how you would believe what the servant said. But Saia, as demons, we have quick healing abilities so don’t fear for us. Except with iron weapons. As long as it’s not in the heart, we will still heal. It simply takes longer.” Then she smiled, her light aquamarine eyes dancing in excitement. “Lord Réomer requested I help get you ready to attend last meal.”
Last meal? Panic choked her. She thought it was just a presentation, an introduction.
Images of demons sucking blood from each other flooded her mind. After the ghouls who’d tried to steal her soul—
Saia shut off her thoughts and closed her mind to that horror. The only way she could deal with it and not start screaming. “Er, no thanks. I’ll pass. I'm not hungry.”
Ikaria’s smile morphed into dismay. “You cannot refuse this request.”
“Yes, I can. Besides, I can't eat with someone sucking on blood in the same place.”
The girl’s face paled. “I know your recent ordeal doesn't make this place, our way of life any easier to understand—”
“No-no!” Saia hastily backtracked. “I didn't mean that you—”
“It’s not your fault to think we drink blood, too,” Ikaria said quietly. “Those demons dwell in another region. However, they do stop in at the
citadel because there are those who live here and agree to be blood-givers. But in Wrath’s halls, no plasma is consumed. It messes with the mind, and Wrath doesn't care for that.”
Something about the girl’s impassive tone drew Saia’s notice. “Did something happen to you—your mother?”
Anguished aqua eyes met hers. “Not my mi'jan. They—the blood-demons stole my sister.”
“Did no one search for her?” Saia asked in dismay. If one of her brothers had been taken, she wouldn’t rest until she’d found whoever was responsible.
“We did. It was too late.”
At the girl’s sorrow, Saia hugged her. “I'm so sorry.”
Her body stiff, Ikaria accepted the embrace then stepped back and nodded to the bench. “The clothes are for you.”
Saia eyed the outfit in confusion. “Red? What happened to the white ones? I quite like the gray pants and top you gave me.”
“You cannot wear those or the white.” She smiled now. “This is the claiming color many of the newly mated females wear.”
Curious, Saia picked up the length of fabric only to discover it was a long flowing skirt. The top, a barely there thing, looked far too small to cover her essential bits.
She didn't want to disappoint Ikaria, and Riley would be waiting for her. Seemed she was going to dinner, after all.
Saia pulled on the top and draped the towel around her waist. Narrow straps settled on her shoulders, and the soft fabric followed her curves to end just below her breasts, revealing a hand-span of skin. Well, at least it covers my nipples, she thought wryly.
She yanked the skirt over her head and tugged it to her waist, dropping the towel. The exquisite fabric glided over her body like she’d been dipped in silk. It hugged her hips and flowed to her ankles in a shimmer of flames.
Oh, wow, the outfit was beautiful.
As she reached behind her to fasten it, Ikaria took over and secured the clasp.
Right, underwear. She frowned when she saw none. About to ask Ikaria, the girl caught the skirt’s waist and tugged it lower, revealing Saia’s hipbones.
Oh, no, no, no! Not with her tummy. “Wait-wait!” She stopped Ikaria, glancing down at herself. “I don’t like it so low.” The thought of her stomach out there for all to see—really not what she wanted.
“Why not?” Ikaria asked, puzzled. “To be claimed by one such as Lord Réomer, any female would be proud to bear his mark.”
“Tell me about it,” she muttered, thinking of the witch who’d left her to die in Hell. She slipped on the soft, satin footwear with slight heels that matched her outfit. Then Ikaria’s words registered. “Wait, what mark?”
“On your lower back,” Ikaria said. “Come see. It really is quite striking.”
Frowning, Saia followed her across the black floors to the mirror on the wall. She stopped, distracted by her reflection. Her jaw hit the floor. That woman was her?
The rich red color flattered her skin, which had taken on a deeper tan. She looked…sexy.
She’d always felt too curvy in front of her slender friends. Saia pinched her stomach, but she couldn’t get a grip like she usually did. A week here and her abdomen appeared flat. Toned. It must be the heat in this place that shifted the extra padding, hopefully into oblivion and not to her backside or thighs.
That’s it! She was moving to some desert country once she got back home.
Saia ran her hands over the skirt riding low on her hips like some belly dancers’ and frowned at the henna-like patterns just above her hipbones. Delicate scrawls coiled toward her back. She twisted, then peered over her shoulder into the mirror and went motionless in shock.
“What the—?”
“It’s the claiming mark. Our males can imprint any symbol they like, most usually go for their names, since names are binding in our world. Yours will soon darken.”
She really didn't expect it to be real. She recalled the intense heat followed by pain right where Riley had held her when they’d made love. She scrutinized the design. The swirly coils from her hipbones flowed to her back and took on the shape of an ambigram on her lower spine. Unable to read it, she turned first one way then another, trying to decipher it.
“Can you read this?”
Ikaria nodded, studying the tattoo. “It says ‘Réomer.’”
Saia snorted. But a warm glow invaded her. She found she liked his name on her. Angling her body, she peered closer at the word and snarled when she saw what he’d done with his name.
The diabolical fiend!
“Let me do your hair for you,” Ikaria said, fetching the black wooden box and setting it on a little table near the mirror. She obviously saw nothing wrong with the marking.
In the swirls of his name, the first R was in the form of a pitchfork.
A damn pitchfork!
She couldn’t believe he’d done that. Fuming, Saia flopped on a stool while Ikaria brushed the tangles from her drying hair and started to curl them into some ropey style.
Her mind drifted to the dinner that was probably well underway, and nerves took hold. At the thought of being surrounded by so many demons, her belly heaved.
Inhaling deeply, Saia forced her clenched fists to relax. Christ, she refused to hide, no matter what that witch thought to do to her. And besides, she would not embarrass Riley in front of his father, showing him what a scaredy cat his son had chosen as his mate.
“There, all done,” Ikaria said, distracting her. She picked up the box and removed something covered in a soft gray cloth.
At the slight weight on her head, Saia glanced in the mirror and stared.
A narrow black and gold filigree circlet lay over her hair. Three exquisite blood-red stones were set two inches apart between two narrow bars. Orangey-red sparks danced inside the rubies to cast a faint glow over her. Her eyes widened. Cautiously, she stroked them, but they remained cool to her touch. “What is this?”
“It’s Réomer’s mating gift to you.”
Her heart swelled at the romantic gesture.
Ikaria studied Saia through the mirror and nodded in approval. “You look lovely. Come. Let us go, it grows late. Lord Réomer awaits you in the hall.”
Saia froze. “But he was supposed to be with me when we went there.”
“No, Saia, for this, he will wait in the great hall. You need to go to him.”
Oh, shit!
Okay…okay, she could do this.
Taking a deep breath, Saia followed Ikaria out of the room. Two new, older, grim-faced demon guards followed them down the narrow stairs lit by several torches. “What happened to the other guard?”
“He’s been dismissed. You shouldn’t have been taken from the fortress. He’s lucky he wasn’t beheaded. She cast a spell over him; it’s why he did nothing when she flashed with you. Worse, he went into hiding once he recovered, instead of going to Lord Réomer and telling him the truth. He’s been banished to the Forsaken Lands. There are no second chances in the Citadel of Wra.”
Saia bit her lip, her anxiety growing in leaps. She’d never understand the laws in this harsh world.
***
Saia was sure they were deep inside the mountains when Ikaria finally stopped at the entrance to an enormous hall, lit by a million torches. Well, that’s how it all appeared.
She glanced at Ikaria as nerves took hold again. “This is not the main hall.”
“No. Here is where the mating ceremony takes place.”
“The what?” Her eyes rounded in shock. “As in the physical claiming?”
Ikaria bit her lip as if struggling not to smile. “No. It’s a formality where you are presented to all the dignitaries of this realm. Wait here. Réomer will escort you.” She hurried inside, vanishing into a sea of demons.
The massive hall looked like it could house the entire city of New Orleans with space to spare. Laid out for the celebration, the lavishly decked black-draped tables groaned with food. Enormous tapestry-like artwork of brutal, bloody battles—ugh, now that didn'
t surprise her—was mounted on the walls between the deep red and charcoal-gray drapes. The colors of Wrath, she realized.
Alone, with just her guards flanking her, heads turned in her direction. Saia bit back the urge to run to her room.
Where was Riley?
Her gaze skated across the crowd, and there, at the far wall, she found him seated at what could only be the head table. Reclined in a high-back chair on the left side, his arms crossed loosely over his chest, he watched her.
Even with the distance between them, those impossibly green eyes blazed a trail across her skin. His hooded stare took her back to the time in their room with her on her knees, and with his mouth alone, he’d taken her to the height of indescribable pleasure.
Heat rushed to her face and her panic faded.
What now? Did she walk over to him?
He shook his head, stopping her. Rising to his feet, he sauntered over through the sea of ebony tables. Dressed in black leather-like pants tucked into knee-high boots with a thin, linen shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, he was breathtakingly gorgeous.
A hush fell over the room. The denizens of Stygia followed her every move. They would have heard about the woman who’d tried to get rid of her. And now, they waited as Wrath’s heir staked his claim. Eager, watchful, their curious gazes swept over her, no doubt judging whether she was a suitable mate for Réomer.
Riley stopped in front of her, picked up both of her hands, and kissed the backs of her fingers. His gaze flickered to the circlet he’d given her.
“Thank you.” She pointed to her head. “It’s beautiful. But I don’t have anything for you.”
“I don’t need anything, I have the best thing ever. You,” he said quietly. “Saia, I didn't come back for you because this has to be done this way. You came out here alone, showed them your strength, despite what you went through yesterday. They know mortals fear demon-kind. They see it as a weakness and would use it. You are strong. I'm incredibly proud of you.”
Tangled Sin (A Dark Realm Novel) Page 20
