The Demon Master's Wife (Fantasy, Space Opera, Science Fiction Romance) (FORCED TO SERVE)

by McDonald, Donna

  “You will still be hurt, and I think you will find your feelings a mirror of your mate’s. To your good, the demon will be liberated by the merging—as will you.” Dorian stopped, squeezing her shoulders hard. “You will lose the peace you trained yourself to feel, and most of your spiritual training will be sacrificed. There is something more, something you might consider much worse. Are you able to hear it?”

  Ania nodded, keeping her head down. “Tell me all you see this time. I need to know.”

  “You will become a warrior again. The demon will see to it. It is the only part of you he understands. When you are changed, that part of your nature will rule. It might be possible to retrain yourself to peaceful living. I would certainly try to help you do so,” Dorian promised.

  “Will I—will I still remember everything? You cannot know the misery it has been to know only a part of myself,” Ania said.

  Dorian breathed deeply and looked further within her.

  “Aye. I think you will retain it all, but you will feel differently about it. Ania, there is a symbol in you. It is the mark of the creators. I cannot tell if it is for the demon or you.”

  He lifted his hands from her and stepped back, reeling from the reading that he took much deeper than he had intended. It was not easy to look at a person as old and wise as Ania, even harder to look at the demon in her.

  Ania met Dorian’s weary gaze.

  “The mark of the creators is for us both I believe. Without Malachi I do not live. With him, I live as him—but also myself. I don’t think I have a choice, Dorian. Just like Synar when he put Malachi in me and left, I see only one solution,” Ania said.

  “If you make that decision, you need not fear I will shun you for it. I respect that you are on a path that is your destiny,” Dorian said. “Though others you encounter may not feel the same. Demon hosts are viewed negatively in general.”

  “Do you think I care about how I am perceived? My purpose is greater than just to improve my own circumstances or Malachi’s. My merging would ensure that Conor Synar would never have all of the control over the demon and his power,” Ania said.

  “A confrontation with Liam’s brother is inevitable for all of us. That has been coming since Liam’s father passed Malachi to him. Fortunately, it is very difficult to kill a Khalsa warrior, so you should live a long time no matter what happens between Liam and Conor,” Dorian said.

  “A part of me thinks this is all happening because I tried to hide from my past, not reconcile it with the rest of me. Whatever becomes of me next, I will seek balance in the future. I am learning that our pasts can never truly be put away. This applies to all of us,” Ania said, crossing her arms.

  “Did Liam tell you about his family?” Dorian asked.

  “No, he would never speak to me about them. I researched some of it. Malachi told me the rest. I found a way to communicate with the demon and have been talking to him almost daily. Please do not tell Liam until I make my final decision about the healing merger,” she requested, lifting her chin.

  “As I said before, your decisions are yours alone to make. Liam will remain the demon’s master until his death. It is your fate, not his, that will change by your decision about whether or not to merge with the demon more,” Dorian said.

  Ania nodded and walked to the door to leave, but stopped just before she opened it.

  “Just pray I do not lose all my enlightenment if I do the merger. You didn’t know me in that first century of life, Dorian, but I had little mercy. I was chosen to train for service as a Khalsa warrior specifically because like many born during that time among the Pleiadians, I felt almost nothing for any creature save myself.”

  Her gaze drifted away from his, remembering the past.

  “One day shortly after I had finished my advanced training, I killed a Siren child. It wasn’t even an honorable death done in battle. The child was sick. To me, it seemed struggling and pathetic in its healing pain as it fought for its life. I had no compassion for such struggles. When the mother left the child alone for a moment to do a task, I used my skills to quietly take its life, feeling righteous as I did so because I was returning the child to the source of all of us. And Dorian—it was not even the only time I committed such an act.”

  Ania studied the changing expressions of Dorian’s face, not surprised at all by the revulsion she saw there. Dorian had never harmed an innocent on purpose. No naturally compassionate Siren, regardless of his or her warrior training, could without suffering for it for the rest of their extremely long life span.

  “For some reason, I lingered that day and watched the child’s mother return to see the result of my deed. The grief that assailed her ripped through me with enough force to shatter the stoicism I had been so proud of all that time. The creators of all did not spare me. I shared her pain that day. And then forever after I shared the pain of every troubled creature I met, every victim of violence that I hurt,” Ania said.

  “I understand better now why I am typically inclined to follow your judgment. You have suffered more than I imagined,” Dorian said gently.

  “It took me two centuries to accept my correction had come from the highest source. That’s why when you met me some three or four centuries after that I was training warriors to be spiritual as well as to be killers. Without compassion, creatures will kill each other for their own reasons until there are none left to kill,” Ania said sadly. “This is why I understand the demon I carry. His wrongs can never be greater than mine. To kill one innocent fighting for its life is as bad as killing a thousand armed soldiers in honorable battle.”

  And this is no doubt why the creators of all chose you for this great task, Dorian thought, realizing neither he nor Liam really knew all of Ania’s secrets—or the depth of the pain she carried.

  “Thank you for honoring me with your truth. I accept the teaching it brings,” Dorian said quietly, bowing his head to his teacher and friend. “Maybe your destiny is to teach compassion to the demon in you. Perhaps his is to be redeemed by what you have learned.”

  Ania laughed at the thought, which admittedly mirrored ones she had been having. Could it really be that she was to try to redeem a demon?

  “Redemption is lofty, but I will settle for Malachi’s cooperation in not using me to harm. He vowed to take nothing from my past away from me again, so I expect to be able to restrain him when necessary. I find Malachi is honorable in his own way, but I am a realist. For some evil entities, honorable is as good as they ever get.”

  “Before you go, wouldn’t you like to know how you looked—after the change?” Dorian asked.

  Of all the things Dorian had told her, changes in her appearances were the least of her concerns, so Ania actually laughed at his look of concern.

  “Dorian, how I appear to you at this very moment is just an illusion I created over several centuries. I chose to have alterations done in order to soften my appearance to one that seemed peaceful and calm to most creatures. I know the demon intends to take all those away,” she said ruefully. “Malachi warned me I would look a bit more like him afterwards than I would like. He will return me to how I was created.”

  “You look now as you always have to me. What did you look like before?” Dorian asked.

  “I looked like myself,” Ania answered, saying no more but smiling at his chastising look for not explaining. She was female after all. “Try to talk with Gwen before the blocks I put in you come undone later today. She prefers the peaceful version of you, even though she desires the restless, ruthless one. We will not be able to help her without her consent much longer. I don’t know even know if we can do it today or not.”

  “Aye—I agree the time of sparing her is over,” Dorian said. “It is time Gwen made her own choices as well. I will go to her and make her hear me.”

  Ania shrugged. “I don’t mind easing your burdens or hers. Helping the two of you may be the last truly compassionate act I get to do.”

  Dorian shook his head. “I ref
use to believe that. We are the sum total of our choices. Both the good and the bad make us who we are. Do you wish me to help you bear your healing change?”

  “No. I fear for your life—for any witness to it,” Ania said. “I am sealing myself into my room. If it works, Malachi can come out of me and care for my needs. If it doesn’t, make sure Synar puts him into a male next time. I promised him that.”

  “Do not joke again of dying. You will survive. I saw it just moments ago and I am almost never wrong. Go in peace and focus on living,” Dorian admonished.

  Ania nodded with a smile, opened the door, and walked out.

  Chapter 11

  Gwen’s body was drenched with sweat and her mind was clouded in a fog of tiredness too large to ignore. Yet she had only one resounding thought echoing through her over and over.

  Zade.

  Every cell in her was screaming for her to go to him, be with him, bond with him. Fighting the urge was the hardest trial of restraint Gwen had ever taken on. When Zade walked into the training room shortly after her admission to herself, the inevitability of his presence there sent a ripple of rightness through her.

  Normally Gwen didn’t believe in the existence of divine will or destiny, but if she had believed it in, the male occupying the same space with her at last would have been some damn convincing proof. Zade seemed electrical to her as she watched him walk in, and she definitely needed to use him to charge her batteries.

  Wary of his intentions, Gwen noticed him veering to punch buttons on the wall panel before he walked to where she stood on the training mat. His now even closer proximity triggered more need, clouding her vision and her judgment with a furious haze of longing that made Gwen angry with both of them.

  She swirled her fighting stick in a defensive maneuver to keep Zade away while she glared.

  “The longing you have will not go away on its own,” Dorian informed Gwen, watching her darkening glare for signs of intent to attack him.

  He could feel her anger, could feel her resistance—but under those her body was calling him—loudly in fact. Too late Dorian realized he should have sought her out earlier. Now she was angry and guarded in her reactions, which triggered an answering anger in him.

  And his control was slipping too. Ania’s blocks were just about gone.

  “Very sneaky of you to lock us in here, Zade. I don’t have my weapon to stun you, but I will stop you any way I can. If you come any nearer, I’m not going to hold back. You will just get hurt again if you try anything,” Gwen promised roughly.

  “It is a risk I must take. You need my help, Gwen Shenu Jet. The Siren’s call is not typical bonding lust. It is a serious mating madness, and we are both caught in its grip,” Dorian said, still not moving, hoping he could reason with her.

  “I can’t even begin to tell you how much I hate feeling like I have to do anything with you at all. I don’t deserve this fight. This is all your fault,” Gwen accused, the words hissing through tightly gritted teeth.

  “I deeply regret my actions and agree it wasn’t fair to claim you without explaining my motivations first. But I cannot undo the past. I can only attend to your needs to relieve us both,” Dorian said, circling her slowly. “My mother is sending organics from my home planet which will help you shed the worst of the urges once you ingest them. Until they get here, you’re going to have to accept my help in other ways.”

  “No—I don’t want your help—not in any way. I don’t want to constantly feel your energy inside me either,” Gwen said, letting her resentment show completely. “Nothing I do banishes it. Desire for you is an unsolvable problem that I keep dwelling on over and freaking over, Zade. I will find my own way to survive this. I always find a way.”

  “Not without me you won’t—not this time, Gwen. At best, what I am offering is itself only a temporary reprieve until the Rylen supplies arrive. Either you can take my help gracefully or I will force you to take it. Our suffering is affecting everyone on the Liberator,” Dorian said.

  “Ask me if I care,” Gwen demanded.

  “That’s a very bad attitude, Commander Jet. You studied vibrational addictions at the academy. You well know that left unaddressed they can lead to mental problems, especially in volatile creatures like Earthlings,” Dorian told her, grinning at her fury. “I can’t let you kill a crew member on the Liberator just because you’re sexually frustrated. Nor will I see you drugged and confined to quarters when the matter can be resolved without those extreme measures.”

  “I know what sexual frustration feels like, Zade. This is a hell of a lot more complex than that. But okay, let’s say I let you help me,” Gwen said, sarcasm dripping off the polite term they were using to describe him satisfying the insane urge she was feeling. “What happens after I bond with you? I’ll tell you what, you’ll talk Synar into quarantining me in your room as your sex toy while you step right into my role as first mate. I read about this shit. Siren males aren’t affected nearly as badly as the females they choose.”

  Dorian swore and studied the walls for a moment trying to calm down from his reaction to her insult. He told himself Gwen was just being more unreasonable than usual because of her longing for him. It appeased the mating male in him, but it didn’t offer him any real option other than engaging in the fight he could tell was coming.

  “Shades of Kellnor, I wish I had sought you out earlier today,” Dorian said harshly. “I underestimated you again. You are seriously in error if you think what I want from you has anything to do with your role on this blasted ship. This is about your role in my life and mine in yours. Now come kiss me and we’ll both feel much better. We might even be able to talk rationally afterwards.”

  “No,” Gwen said viciously. “I kiss who I want to kiss, not who I have to kiss. I will not kiss you.”

  “Gwen, I would lay my life down to save yours. I will have a simple kiss even if I have to incapacitate you like all the other times,” Dorian said, watching fury leap into her eyes. Shades of Kellnor—I didn’t mean to tell her about the other times. Now what?

  “What other times?” Gwen demanded, her voice rising as an angry flush took over. She watched Zade cringe at her demand and knew he wasn’t making it up.

  Since he’d already spoken the truth to her, there was no way he could take it back, Dorian decided. Sighing, he braced himself to receive her fury.

  “The other times I kissed you were when Ania and I rendered you unconscious. I did only the minimum necessary to give us both temporary peace,” Dorian said. “I am sparing your pride no more.”

  “You’re lying,” Gwen said fiercely. “I don’t believe Ania helped you seduce me.”

  “It was not seduction, nor was it bonding in any real sense. What we did was for the good of all, especially you, my stubborn one. Those weren’t just dreams of being with me,” Dorian replied. “They were real. You taste amazing, by the way. And yes, I can be a controlling bastard when it’s for a good enough reason. It is a relief to finally admit that to you. Now let us reach an accord and meet our needs like rational creatures.”

  A red haze descended over her vision and Gwen rushed Zade, her stick raised at the last minute because she intended to break it over his head.

  Sighing, Dorian grabbed the fighting stick, flipped Gwen up and into the air with the momentum, effectively landing her flat on the mat several feet in front of him.

  He calmly walked the few steps to where Gwen fought for breath. He looked down at her and smiled.

  “Warriors are so much trouble to mate, which is probably why I never wanted one before. Why couldn’t you have been a sweet medic or even an engineer?” he mused.

  Dorian was shocked to find his foot yanked hard out from under him. Being a giant male, he hit the mat hard because he had not been prepared to fall. Instead of making him angry, it brought a resigned smile to his face and tightness to his gut.

  Gwen Jet was not going to be an easy mate, but by the creators—she was definitely going to be an exciting one
. His life force was rushing erratically at the very thought of subduing her.

  “If you insist on being conquered, I can do that,” Dorian said from his prone position, turning his head to smile at her.

  “Oh no,” Gwen said, getting quickly to her feet. “I get my ass kicked regularly by a short blonde who looks more innocent than a sweet medic. She said you were even better than her. I know I can’t win against you in a fair fight. That leaves me very little choice.”

  “Maybe you’re smarter than I thought, Commander Jet,” Dorian said calmly, trying to see past his lust to what she was planning. “Ania is being modest. No one fights like she does. That female is practically invincible. She’s trained thousands of warriors like me.”

  He climbed to his feet and faced Gwen again.

  “Thanks to that workout you have ignited my lust for you even further. My body is now on fire with the need to share itself with you. I think I will pleasure you until you pass out in my arms and then I will carry you naked down the hallway to my room like a prize. If you kiss me willingly, I will consent to carry you clothed.”

  “Ha! You braggart. Unconscious men can’t carry anyone,” Gwen said fiercely, “and I’ve been practicing, Zade. There’s also this little Earthling trait called motivation, which I have lots of where you’re concerned. Stay the hell away from me.”

  Dorian laughed, struggling to rein in the amusement when he saw it angered her more. His body was as taut now as the metal beams of the ship. He would have to be careful not to hurt her.

  “Very well, mate—I am resigned to our physical struggle. Show me your training then,” he said, walking toward her, blood pounding in him for the fight as he advanced. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so invigorated. She might frustrate him for the next century, but by the creators, Gwen Jet always made him feel alive.

  “So tell me—are we always going to have to settle our arguments by physically fighting?” Dorian asked.