Possessed by a Dark Warrior

by Felicity Heaton

  It was a sign of aggression in demons.

  Bleu stood his ground.

  The demon was taller than him by a few inches, and broader too, but that didn’t mean he was stronger. If the male tried to fight him, he would find that out for himself.

  “What you want?” the big male grumbled in broken English.

  Bleu snorted. As if he couldn’t speak demon.

  “I request an audience with King Thorne. I have news for him from the elf kingdom, so if you would be so kind as to stop stomping around acting like you own the place and take me to the male who actually does, I would most appreciate it,” he said in the demon tongue, skipping the usual greeting that was often in the form of an insult and earning a deadly glare from the male, one that said he was intelligent enough to recognise he had just been patronised and didn’t like it.

  The male had started it. Bleu had only given him a taste of his own medicine.

  The male’s meaty fingers flexed around the hilt of his broadsword.

  Bleu’s twitched at his side, ready to call his blade to them if the demon attacked.

  Another demon strolled over, burgundy leathers creaking as they struggled to remain in one piece over his thick thighs. Bleu recognised this one as a commander, a male he had met during the recent war between the Third and Fifth Realm, one he had fought in on the side of the Third. The demon had put on even more muscle in the few months since he had been here, but apparently hadn’t thought to purchase larger trousers.

  “King Thorne will see you.” The dark-haired male beckoned him and Bleu followed him across the courtyard, keeping one eye on the other demon so he couldn’t get the jump on him.

  Thorne’s castle was nothing like Loren’s. It lacked the grandeur of the elf palace, with no conical towers to spear the dark sky. To Bleu’s eyes, it resembled a stumpy heavily fortified grey garrison. Stout curved walls enclosed the inner courtyard, with one arched gate off to his left. At intervals along the wall, square three-storey buildings intersected it, the final level at the same height as the battlements. The demons patrolling the walls walked through those levels and appeared out the other side, huge swords and spears resting on their bare shoulders. Another difference from his own home, where no one roamed the walls unless an alarm was sounded. Here, the demons seemed to actively await war, almost as if they were wishing it would come to them.

  They probably never had to wait long. A century at most. Often less. The seven demon realms were always at war with each other over something, playing a constant tug-of-war for the lands they shared.

  Bleu turned his focus back to the squat three-storey building ahead of him. This one had a huge arched entrance, and arched windows on the second and third levels glowed with amber light. It wasn’t square like the others. It curved with the wall, with what looked like an addition to his right, where the windows were smaller. They were the quarters of the officers and the king, a place where he had stayed during the war with the Fifth Realm.

  The second level extended on the left too, but only to form a balcony, with an elegant stone balustrade that seemed out of place in such a roughly hewn castle.

  Small fire pits burned around the walls of the courtyard with larger ones dotted around the centre, chasing back the darkness that passed as evening light this far from the elf kingdom. Hell would be a black place indeed without the light his kin brought into it. That light bled over into the demon realms and the free realm, giving them a sort of day.

  For some damned reason, the demons called it night.

  He never had figured out why.

  His demon escort led him through the arched entrance of the main building. Torches protruded from the carved columns and illuminated the vaulted hallway and the corridors that extended off from it to his left and his right.

  He followed the male through the second archway and into the grand hall of the castle. Two rows of three thick stone columns rose up on either side of the aisle, supporting the vaulted ceiling. The torches slotted into black metal brackets struggled to illuminate the huge space, their warm light catching on the twelve stone columns and casting shadows in all directions around the windowless room.

  Another marked difference to the elf castle. This was more of a war room than a ceremonial one. Defensive. Not decorative.

  Dull, if you asked him.

  He preferred the brightness and beauty of the grand hall in his own castle.

  There weren’t even any pews in this one. Nowhere for visiting parties to rest. Everyone had to stand to speak with the demon in charge.

  The king that lounged on the elaborate black throne at the end of the aisle on a raised platform, two braziers on the back corners of it illuminating the huge tapestry that hung on the rear wall, a depiction of war. Typical of a demon to think war was beautiful enough to hang it on his wall.

  Thorne lowered his right leg, removing it from his left knee, and the sound of his boot striking the black stone of the platform rang around the room.

  Oaf.

  Demons lacked finesse and grace. They stomped around, growled and roared, and lost their temper over the slightest thing.

  The Third King sat up, his broad bare chest rippling with muscle and power as he straightened on his black throne and eyed Bleu with dark red eyes that rapidly began to burn crimson.

  Case in point.

  He had barely been in the demon’s presence for three seconds, hadn’t even opened his mouth to tell the brute why he was here, and the male was already on the verge of attacking him.

  Movement to the king’s left drew Bleu’s focus there. A slender black-haired mortal female dressed in obsidian leather trousers, knee-high boots and a tight black t-shirt emerged from the shadows and patted Thorne’s shoulder in a soothing manner, her amber eyes fixed on her mate.

  Sable.

  The expected ache in his heart didn’t come. It no longer hurt when he looked at her, because it was aching to see Taryn again, and that yearning was far stronger than any he had ever felt for Sable.

  The huntress had been right all those months ago.

  What he had felt for her hadn’t really been love, because although it had hurt him when she had chosen Thorne over him, the pain he had experienced then would be nothing compared with how he would feel if he lost Taryn. If she rejected him, he wouldn’t be able to bounce back from it.

  He would die.

  The demon Sable petted growled low, a rumbling sound of warning that Bleu heeded.

  As much as he enjoyed fighting Thorne, he wasn’t here to do battle. Nor was he here to fight over Sable. He was here to deliver a message. Two messages, one on behalf of his kingdom and the other on behalf of himself. He would deal with that one first.

  And quickly, because that damned pool was probably almost full and he meant to keep his promise to Taryn.

  “An angel has been sighted in the dragon realm,” he said and Sable’s golden eyes widened.

  Thorne growled again, eyes blazing like fire as he leaned forwards, his dark claws emerging as he curled his fingers over the ends of the armrests of his throne.

  “An angel?” The big male bared his fangs on a snarl. “What business does an angel have in Hell?”

  What indeed. Angels never entered Hell. It stripped them of most of their strength and crippled them with pain if the rumours were anything to go by.

  “The Echelon,” Sable whispered, a frown pinching her fine black eyebrows as she stared at the floor, gaze fixed but distant.

  Thorne looked up at her. “The one from Archangel?”

  She swallowed hard, glanced at her mate with fear in her eyes and then at Bleu. “He said something to Emelia when he came for me… something about tracking down the dragon who had hurt her and slaying it.”

  “Well, he is wreaking havoc in the dragon realm, so I would suggest you remain away from that place.” Bleu ran his hand over his hair, blew out his breath and held her gaze, not hiding his concern from her.

  “Sable will be safe here.” Thorne
rose onto his feet, towering over Bleu on the raised platform. “But we thank you for the information. You may leave now.”

  The russet-haired male was a good few inches taller than him without the added height of the platform, and while such a tactic would have worked on him once, intimidating him and making him itch to fight the bastard for thinking he could look down on him, it didn’t bother him at all this time.

  Sable’s golden gaze questioned him. He knew he was acting differently. Before, he would have been curt and would have left straight after delivering his message to spare himself the pain of seeing her with Thorne. Now, he wanted to leave so he could return to Taryn.

  “I am not done,” he said and Sable spoke over him.

  “You seem well.”

  Bleu frowned, thought about what she had said, and then rolled his shoulders beneath his dark jacket when he realised that he was. “I am well. I am very well indeed.”

  She smiled slightly. “I’m glad to hear that.”

  Thorne grumbled something in the demon tongue and looked close to snagging his mate’s arm and pulling her nearer to him. Sable tossed her mate a chiding look.

  The big demon king folded his meaty arms across his chest, narrowed his red gaze on Bleu, and drew down a deep breath. Stilled. Grinned in a manner Bleu didn’t like.

  “Does your improved mood have anything to do with the dragon I can smell all over you?” Thorne’s grin stretched wider as he preened the dark horns that curled from behind his ears with the air of a male satisfied with himself.

  Bleu shot him down with a black glare.

  “Thorne,” Sable snapped and cuffed him across his left shoulder, earning a glare from her mate. She turned her gaze on Bleu. “I’m sorry. He’s been horribly bored and he’s taking it out on everyone. Not a day goes by when he doesn’t get himself into some sort of trouble.”

  “You will not be bored soon,” Bleu said and the demon’s eyes lit up. “The reason I came here was because a dragon has the elven sword and Taryn saw a vision—”

  “Taryn?” Sable interjected and smiled again. “Pretty name. Is she pretty, Bleu?”

  He ignored her. Taryn wasn’t pretty. She was beautiful.

  “The dragon will battle us in the elf kingdom,” he continued in a gruff tone, blanking the way Sable’s smile widened, a knowing edge to her expression. He was growing tired of being teased by everyone. His relationship with Taryn was none of their business.

  “Us?” Thorne growled, but Bleu could see he was secretly relishing the thought of going to war again.

  He nodded. “The fastest route for the dragon is through your realm, followed by the First or Second. I have sent men to those realms to warn them to evacuate villages in the possible path of the dragon, or shore them up with more warriors… but I recommend the former. The sword this dragon wields is powerful.”

  “I have heard the legends,” Thorne said, his deep voice little more than a rumble as his rough features turned pensive. He rubbed his right thumb across his lower lip and frowned. “I will evacuate the villages along the border with the dragon realm and send a legion of my warriors there.”

  His red eyes flicked up to meet Bleu’s, a touch of warning in his narrowed gaze.

  “I must go and see to it.” The demon male meant to leave him alone with his mate, but he didn’t have to worry. He had no intention of delaying his return to the elf kingdom.

  The damned pool was probably close to overflowing now and he couldn’t stay away from Taryn any longer. The ache behind his breast had grown too fierce, a mad throb that demanded he return to his female and make sure that she was safe, and then kiss her until she was breathless but panting for more.

  Bleu nodded as Thorne passed him, bent his head to Sable, and willed his portal to open and whisk him back to his waiting mate.

  Sable stopped him by speaking. “You look happy… and I’ve never seen you happy before.”

  He paused, frowned and then realised that it was true.

  Bleu smiled at her. “That would be because I have not been happy in a very long time… since I gave up on finding my mate.”

  Her eyes widened and he teleported before she could say anything.

  Eager to return to that mate.

  CHAPTER 29

  Taryn paced her quarters, bare feet silent on the dark stone floor. It was surprisingly warm beneath them, smooth and silken. She could almost see the appeal of living in such a place over a cave. Almost. She turned when she reached the wall and the low cabinets that ran along it and paced back towards the other end of the large room, her eyes fixed unseeingly on the three dark wardrobes that lined it to the left of the opening to the bathing room.

  The sound of water thundering into the pool had grown quieter during the time she had been pacing, a sign that it was getting full.

  Where was Bleu?

  His scent lingered in the air, but it wasn’t enough to soothe her. The castle was quiet around her, but she could sense people moving around below her, and could occasionally hear them outside. She had found the courage to open the twin tall glass doors to the right of the bed early into her wait, and had been pleasantly surprised to find a balcony outside them that ran along the length of the room.

  The view from it was stunning.

  She had never seen anything so beautiful.

  It had held her transfixed for long minutes in which her eyes had delighted in watching the colours of the rolling landscape that stretched into the distance to meet with great cragged black mountains change as the light of the elf kingdom waned. The sky had changed colour, becoming a fiery glow.

  Was that what a sunset in the mortal world would look like?

  She had heard tales from Loke about the mortal realm, passed down to him from his parents before he had lost them in the dragon wars, but she hadn’t been able to imagine anything as beautiful as what she had seen from the balcony of her room.

  She could have passed the entire wait for Bleu on that balcony but a combination of fearing the pool would overflow, getting her into trouble with the elves, and the barked orders of a troop of soldiers in the courtyard below had driven her back inside. None of the soldiers marching around the quieter side of the castle grounds her balcony overlooked had noticed her, but she had promised Bleu she would remain safe inside and the thought that they might see her and report to him that she had been outside didn’t sit well with her.

  She had seen her elf male angry and she didn’t want to be on the receiving end of it.

  Gods, what had he done to her?

  She couldn’t believe the effect he had on her, how fiercely she needed him and desired to please him. No other male had affected her this way and she knew deep in her heart that it had nothing to do with the fact that he was her fated one.

  It had everything to do with her growing feelings for him.

  Taryn tried to push him out of her thoughts but the sound of running water kept him firmly in her mind.

  He had promised to return before the pool was full.

  She diverted course and checked on it, frowned when she saw that the level of the water was only inches from the brim of the low wall surrounding the deep rectangular pool now.

  He wasn’t going to make it.

  She clenched her fists and then flexed her fingers, splaying them wide open, before curling them back into fists again.

  Gods, she needed him back with her.

  Thinking about his offer had stirred her hunger, the need of him that seemed impossible to satisfy. She growled, the sound vibrating up her throat, and paced the bathing room instead. She caught her reflection in the mirrors above the basins to her left and frowned. Her eyes glowed brightly, on fire with her hunger.

  She needed Bleu.

  That need pounded in her blood, drumming in her veins, a fast rhythm that had her breathing accelerating as she studied her reflection. She skimmed her hands down her dirty white corset, over her curves and up to her breasts, cupping them before caressing up her chest to her
hair. She tangled her hands in it and lifted it away from her throat, tipped her head to one side. Would Bleu like to see her neck?

  Would it drive him mad as he drove her crazy with need?

  She wanted to push him to his limit. She wanted him to desire her as fiercely as she desired him.

  She searched the room, speeding from the wardrobes to the drawers in the cabinets on the opposite side of the room. There were items in both. She picked a beautiful dress similar to the one the prince’s mate had worn, but this one was cream.

  Taryn held it up and paused.

  What was she doing?

  She had never dressed to impress any male before. Dragon males cared little about fashion. If a female wanted them, they were happy to service her needs. Even dragon females rarely wore more than leather trousers.

  She had always chosen to cover her top half too.

  Perhaps she was more different to the females of her species than she had realised. She had never indulged in the free sex willingly offered by the males of her kind whenever a female was needing, had never even considered approaching a male in such a manner when she had felt an urge to mate. The dragons of her village had always whispered about her, the females wondering whether something was wrong with her because she didn’t pursue the males as they did, showed none of the passionate drive to mate that they had. They had started talking about her more when she had matured and had started to wear a corset to cover her breasts.

  Now she was standing in an elf castle, staring at a dress, considering wearing it in order to seduce a male.

  The females of her species viewed the correct attire for a seduction as nothing. If they desired the attention and cock of a male, they stripped bare and went to them.

  They definitely didn’t cover themselves up even more, and donning a dress was doing exactly that.

  Taryn eyed it, put her left hand behind the layers of sheer fabric, and lifted it, letting the soft material run over her palm.