by Nora Ash
She heard a grunt on his end, and then the call disconnected, leaving her alone on the side of the darkened road. Now that the reassurance of Kesh’s voice was gone, the darkness seemed to press in on her again, making every hair on her body stand on end. Somewhere out there, demons were undoubtedly hunting for her.
Just then, the phone in her hand lit up with a text message, and she sighed with relief. The directions from Kesh.
However, before she managed to read the text, a scraping sound from the other side of the car cut through the darkness, chilling her blood.
What the hell was that?
“Hello?” she called stupidly, before biting down hard on her tongue. Yeah, if whatever made that sound was capable of responding, she didn’t exactly want it to!
Moving faster than she’d thought possible Selma lunged at the driver side door. The sooner she got out of here, the better!
Her heart drummed hard in her throat as adrenaline spiked in her system for the second time that evening, but when her fingers pulled frantically at the handle, it didn’t budge.
How is it locked? She had made sure to leave it unlocked when she got out, and the keys were still in the ignition. Frantically, she pulled on the door again, but it still didn’t move.
“Even when you reek of fear you are the most delicious thing I’ve ever seen,” a deep voice purred from the darkness.
Cold shock froze her to the spot, fingers still curled around the handle. No.
Movement in her peripheral vision made her snap her head around just in time to see a large shadow move around the back of the car. It was too dark to see his features in the faint light from the stars above the tree line, but she didn’t need a visual to know who it was.
“Hello, sweetheart.”
“Marathín.” She whispered the name of her enemy into the night, hoping against all hope that she was mistaken. That the demon who’d promised to bend her to his will wasn’t here, about to take her away and break her. “No.”
“Now now, don’t say it like that, my sweet. You’ll just hurt my feelings.” There was a distinct smirk in his voice—the sound of a man who knew he’d won. “After everything I’ve done to ensure we could meet, without the interference of that big brute who thought he could claim you after you’d given yourself to me.”
Oh, god. Sick realization nestled in the pit of her stomach. “You are behind this? You captured Kain?”
“Oh, no. Only another Lord could do such a thing. I may have been the one to suggest to the Prince that he should take care of your unworthy mate. No royal can ignore a direct threat to their power, and His Highness was more than willing to listen to my suggestion of how to get rid of the Lord who challenged and beat him. You see, once Kain,” He spit the name out, as if the touch of it on his tongue disgusted him, “got out of his mating high for long enough, he may have decided to lay claim to Naharan’s position. It’s his right, after all, since he defeated a royal in an equal fight. So as you can imagine, Naharan didn’t need much persuasion. I mainly provided the contacts.”
Contacts? Those females … “What is going to happen to him?” Despite her fear of the dark creature slithering around the car, she needed to know her mate’s fate. Somehow, she would make it through this nightmare, and she would find him again. As long as he was alive, this monster could not break her.
“Oh, the Queen was most receptive when I approached her. You see, while Naharan worried he could not take your mate on by himself, he couldn’t very well involve other Lords in this. Killing one of their own without provocation? It is treason, even for a Prince of Demons. So I came up with a simple solution. The females are struggling because our Lords are so much stronger than them—the males they can kidnap and breed with do not produce sufficiently powerful daughters. But if we were to offer them a Lord? Let’s just say that it’s very beneficial to me that the Queen of Demons owes me big.”
The chill in her blood reached her heart. “You’re going to … breed him! He’ll never stand for that!”
Marathín chuckled softly and finally stepped close enough that she could make out his face in the darkness. “I care nothing for the Lord’s fate—what happens to him will be in the hands of the Queen. I only care about you. The Prince thinks he’s procured my services on the promise that I get to mount you for a night, along with a sum of money, before he hides you away as his secret mate, so no one will discover what he did. You and I know better.”
“You’re betraying him too.” At this point, the fact that Dr. Hershey would double cross even the Prince of Demons didn’t shock her—it was merely a statement as she watched him slide a gloved hand over the side of the car in a light caress. “You are going to give up everything just so you can claim me.”
He smiled, and she saw the faint starlight reflect in his white teeth. “That is how much I love you, yes.”
Love. The word seemed to mock her as the face of the man who had truly given her his scarred heart flashed in her mind.
“You are sick,” she spat, anger suddenly welling up to mix with the fear. “You know nothing of love—you only want to posses me, like I am some trinket to own! And you ripped my mate from me, thinking you could ever replace him. I will never be yours, you sick bastard!”
The smile turned into a sneer on his face. “You are mine! And no Lord can take you from me!”
Before she managed to react he took the final few steps to reach her, and his hands came down on each side of her, clamping on to her shoulders. This close up she could see his face clearly, and the rage marring his handsome features was terrifying. “Mine, you hear?”
Selma squirmed in his grip to get away. Though she knew it was pointless, instincts of self-preservation took over, and she fought and kicked at him in her desperation. There was nothing left of her previous attraction to him—it was as if Kain’s claim to her had erased other demons’ ability to influence her hormones by their mere presence, and she had no desire to give in to the furious male, despite his hot touch against her struggling body.
“Let go of me!” She screamed it at him as he lifted her up, only to press her against the side of the car a moment later. “I am his, and nothing you do will change that!”
Marathín’s eyes glowed dangerously above her as he bent over her, blocking off her view of the night sky. “We’ll just have to see about that. Once I remind you of how perfectly we fit together you will change your tune, Breeder. At least your experience with him means I won’t have to touch your mark first—you will be fully conscious through every moment while I reclaim your sweet little cunt, and you will remember how good it feels to belong to me.”
Oh, god. No.
Cold realization set in just as he started ripping at her clothes. He was going to rape her, and this time there would be no blessed escape to the demonic magic caused by her Mark.
Before, even when he had fisted her, she’d yearned for it, but now the mere thought of letting him take her body repulsed her. Never mind the pain of being forced to take his ridged mass while her body was unwilling, and the doctor too caught up in his twisted fantasy to understand what he was doing to her. No, someone other than her mate would demand access to the very core of her being, would take what only belonged to Kain.
She couldn’t live through that.
“No! Let me go! Stop!” Selma clawed at his face and kicked frantically at anything she could make impact with, but he was much too strong.
Snarling at her resistance he ripped open her shirt so her breasts spilled into the cold air, and then yanked her pants down so hard the zipper broke.
“Yield!” he growled. “Or by the stars, I will force you to!”
So much for swearing that he’d never be able to harm her. Of course, he didn’t see the attack as causing her harm. As she fought and struggled against his strong grip she felt his hands stroke and caress her, and it was clear to her that he believed she simply needed to know the feel of his cock to once again fall under his spell.
In the end, it
didn’t matter how much she resisted. He was much too strong, and despite fighting and screaming as best she could, nothing she did made him stop.
When his hand brushed between her legs, separating her nether lips to test her readiness, there was nothing she could do to resist it.
Marathín grunted irritably at her low sob at his touch, clearly unhappy with the lack of moisture coating his fingers.
“I’ll make you want me—you know I can make you want me, even without the mark.” It was a low hiss, immediately followed by the pad of his thumb pushing firmly against her clit.
“Please, no!” Selma jolted at the contact. Unwanted tendrils shocked through her system, but the usual warmth of pleasure failed to replace the sharp sensation of unwanted attention to her most delicate area. It was uncomfortable, to say the least, but amid her squirming and involuntary begging for mercy, something new rose up from the very depth of her being.
For each stroke over her unwilling flesh she felt white hot fire burn within her veins. It seemed to grow as anger overrode her fear.
This creature had ruined her life and pursued her through half the country, hell-bent on bending her to his will. He’d forced her to feel pleasure from acts she didn’t want, had manipulated and used her at every turn, and now he was not only trying to take what belonged to her mate—he was trying to make her enjoy the violation, too.
“I said no!” This time, her voice was not a pleading whimper. She screamed her fury at him as her hand connected with the side of his face, landing an echoing slap across his flesh.
White light exploded from where she struck, ripping his head to the side. She didn’t see any more, because the sudden release of his grip on her sent her tumbling to the ground as he spun backwards from the force of the blow.
Selma hit the tarmac with a startled shriek, bumping her shoulder painfully into the wheel of the car. Startled, she struggled to get back up, scared to lose sight of her attacker long enough for him to get the jump on her again.
She was completely unprepared for the sight that met her when she got to her knees.
Marathín lay stretched out on the ground in front of her, unmoving. When she crawled closer, she saw blood dripping from the temple she’d struck, lit up by a faint, white shimmer. He wasn’t breathing.
Had she had killed him?
Selma stared at her hand, where the white light had come from. She could still feel the odd power surging within, but as her breathing gradually slowed, it seemed to simmer and disappear, leaving her shaking in the darkness.
Reluctantly, she prodded his shoulder. He didn’t move.
Marathín might be... dead? And if he was, she had been the one to kill him. How was that even possible?
Slowly, she got up, too terrified to take her eyes off of his body for several long seconds. Despite the oddly numb sensation spreading through her mind and body, some part of her understood that what had just happened changed everything.
Faint motor sounds finally ripped her out of the shock several moments later.
However much things had suddenly changed, she was still being hunted. Mysterious white light or not, she needed to get to safety before the Prince found her, or both she and Kain were doomed.
* * *
The cafe Kesh had directed her to turned out to be more of a pit stop for truckers, with only a few patrons at the tables thanks to the late hour.
Selma paused at the entrance to let her gaze sweep the shop in hopes of spotting the man she was here to meet.
At the farthest table facing the door an obscenely handsome man looked up the moment she entered, his eyes widening in outrage at the state of her.
Selma tugged self consciously at her ruined coat. Underneath it her clothes were even more ripped from Dr. Hershey’s attack, but she hadn’t exactly had time to do anything about it.
The stranger got up from his chair, his movements carefully measured in a way that more than hinted at inhuman strength, and made his way towards her.
She swallowed automatically, fighting an instinct to flee. He was most definitely a Demon Lord, the way invisible power radiated from his huge form.
“Kesh?” Her voice cracked when he stopped in front of her and she had to tip her head back to look at his face.
He nodded as his black eyes narrowed to slits. “Naharan did this to you?”
Oh, great. As much as she appreciated his evident anger on her behalf, now was not the time to deal with primitive demon instincts, and Kesh looked an awful lot like Kain had when he’d sworn to kill Marathín for molesting her.
“No, but can we please get out of here? I don’t know if they’re still after me.” Even though she felt distinctly uneasy about being this close to a Demon Lord she didn’t know, Kain had trusted him with her safety. No matter his overwhelming presence, she much preferred to be alone in his company than out in public where the Prince could get to her.
Kesh growled low in his throat, but nevertheless placed an over-sized hand on her shoulder so he could steer her out the door.
“How many were there?” he asked when they made it to the parking lot.
“Seven. Prince Naharan and six females.” Selma turned around to look up at the demon accompanying her. “They made a deal—the females helped the Prince secure Kain, and in return he’ll be used for... for breeding. We need to save him.”
Kesh’s eyebrows rose on his forehead at her words, but instead of commenting, he simply guided her towards a black motorcycle.
Selma squirmed away from his light grip on her shoulder, annoyed with his silence. “Are you even listening to me? Kain’s in trouble. You need to help him!”
The demon let out a small sigh at her resistance, his dark eyes gleaming with impatience. “Trust me, he didn’t have you call me for his sake. You said it yourself a moment ago—they might still be hunting for you, so right now we need to get you to safety. We can talk about my brother once you’ve been secured.”
Brother? Selma stared at him as he took off his leather jacket, zipped it around her and then shoved a helmet over her head. Finally, he mounted the bike and lifted her up behind him. So this was the other son of the woman who’d killed herself to escape an eternity as a Breeder.
“Hold on tight. It’s a long drive,” he grunted, and she automatically wrapped her arms around his T-shirt clad midriff.
He seemed about as approachable as Kain had the morning after their first meeting.
Nevertheless, despite her instinctive wariness of a demon his size and less than talkative nature, she felt substantially safer on the back of his bike with his warm body in her tight grasp than she had on the car journey here. If he was Kain’s brother he would most definitely help get her mate back. And make Naharan pay.
* * *
They rode for hours.
When Kesh finally pulled up to a large estate, Selma’s entire body was stiff from the ride, and despite her worry for Kain and the traumatizing events with Marathín, she found it hard to stay awake. Yet despite her exhaustion she peeked up from behind Kesh’s wide back when he stopped in front of the large iron gates flanked by armed men. They were somewhere in the countryside, but the security seemed as vigorous as it had been at Kain’s casino. Apparently, all Demon Lords were anal about security.
“Alert Kirigan of my arrival,” Kesh said to the guard.
“Yes, sir,” the guard said as the gate swung open to allow them entry. He glanced curiously in her direction before Kesh kicked the bike back into gear and they roared up the long driveway to the manor house.
“Who’s Kirigan?” she asked once they’d stopped again. “Your second in command?”
“My father,” was the grunted answer, before she was unceremoniously lifted off the back of the bike.
Selma froze, staring up at the imposing house. Despite her fatigue and aching joints she suddenly felt rather hesitant at the prospect of walking inside. Kain’s father … what little she had heard had been enough to scare her, and meeting him like this,
without the protection of her mate? It was more than a little daunting.
“So Kain told you about him?”
She looked up at her companion. The slight vibration of his nostrils gave away what he’d picked up on—the smell of her fear.
“A little,” she croaked.
Kesh grimaced and placed a hand on her shoulder, gripping her gently through the much too large leather jacket. “He will not harm you, Breeder. And we need his help. Come—after you provide what details you can, you will be cared for.”
There wasn’t really anything else to do. Kain needed help, and this seemed the only way to get it. With the constant presence of Kesh’s large hand on her shoulder, as if he thought she needed the support, Selma climbed the stairs to the grand doorway, where yet another man stood guard.
“Does your dad expect an attack?” she asked over her shoulder when the armed male sent her a curious look.
“Who knows,” the Demon Lord behind her grumbled. “Most Lords keep their private domain well protected.”
The guard opened the door for them without comment, even though he looked like he was bursting to ask about the Breeder being hauled into the estate. Selma saw his nostrils twitch in her direction when they passed over the threshold, and managed to smother an eye roll. Smelling like catnip for demons was starting to lose its novelty.
Inside, the house was every bit as manor-like as the exterior.
Selma looked around the grand hall they’d stepped into with raised eyebrows. ”Did you and Kain grow up here?”
“Yeah.” Kesh gave the exquisite paintings on the far wall a disgusted look. “Grossly pompous, isn’t it?”
There wasn’t a lot she could say to that. She’d grown up in a lower middle class household, and the only things they’d had on the walls were her drawings and various art projects as she was growing up. This level of wealth was far beyond anything she could relate to.
Of course, the fact that Kain could pay 300 million dollars for her just by ‘shifting some assets around’ should really have warned her of the kind of home he’d grown up in.
