The Demon King's Destiny

by C. A. Worley

  With his other hand, he held her face, forbidding her to look away. Delirious, drunk on the experience, he pounded into her unyielding heat. Her nails scored down his ribs, inciting him into a full-blown frenzy.

  He watched in amazement as Evelyn’s skin reddened, her heart hammering as fast as his. Her lips parted. He was tempted to take her mouth but he didn’t want to miss seeing her like this. Mindless in lust. Totally at his mercy. Completely his.

  Her sharp intake of air was the only sign she gave before her walls contracted, squeezing him forcefully. The rapture upon her face was the most erotic vision he’d ever beheld. Evelyn’s wide eyes and silent scream, coupled with her body’s spasms, yanked his own seed from his body, as though it was hers to control, hers to command.

  A fissure opened in the hardened shell he’d built around his heart. The pain of it making the moment all the more devastating.

  He collapsed on top of her, lying in a stupor. His demon purred so loud she could probably hear it. Finally sated, the spirit retreated fully into its rightful place deep inside Marrok.

  He didn’t know if he could live without the witch who could so easily touch his soul. Whatever the future held, there was no going back now.

  Chapter 16

  His vision clearing, Marrok shifted his weight and rolled until his hip hit the bed. Still semi-erect inside his mate, he kept her close, not quite ready to break their union.

  He nuzzled Evelyn’s cheek, feeling her grin against his skin. Marrok’s nose drifted to just below her ear and he inhaled. The air was thick with the smell of sex. Their lovemaking created a unique scent, heady and dizzying.

  Like a drug, he wanted more of it. More of her. “How do you feel?” he asked instead of attempting her again.

  “I feel wonderful. That was … more than I could have imagined.”

  “I’m glad. I wasn’t sure, being where we are, if it would be uncomfortable for you. I only ever want to bring you pleasure, moj draga.”

  Evelyn’s face flushed, unused to speaking so frankly about anything sexual. Marrok obviously had no such reservations. She found herself liking the fact he spoke this way, as lovers did.

  “Maybe a little at first, though I’ve nothing to compare it to. I suppose I’ll have to let you know once we’re together. Truly together.”

  Her fingers traced the thin scar on his face, down the side of his throat. They grazed his collarbone, then stroked the skin between his pectorals. Every inch helped her gather the courage to make her heart’s inquiry.

  “Any idea of when that may be?” she asked, trying to be nonchalant about it.

  “Within the year. Two at most.”

  Evelyn’s face fell and Marrok nudged her chin upward with his hand.

  “When I say at most, I mean it. I’ll build us a home on sacred ground, if necessary.”

  “You’ll house me away at the Temple of Sanctus Femina?”

  “If I must. I also need a plan to approach your father. That will take time, especially if he is resistant. I assume I’ll need quite a few months to pursue diplomacy with him.”

  Sensing her disappointment, he kissed her soundly, then told her, “Though, I’ll not be deterred. If necessary, we’ll come clean about the dreamwalking.”

  Evelyn’s mouth popped open and he lifted her jaw to close it. “As a last resort. But mark my words, Evelyn, I intend to have you. No one, not even your father, is going to get in the way of that.”

  Her eyes lit up. Marrok was committing to their future. One or two years was nothing for a being who lived forever. If her life was going to be prolonged by being his mate, she would not make things more difficult by pouting.

  The subject of her father was another matter altogether. He’d dealt with demons many times and encouraged trade with Sundari. She didn’t think he would take issue with a betrothal to Marrok, but trading with a demon was far different than arranging a marriage to one. Evelyn decided to remain optimistic.

  “I’m going to have to test the success of our system’s new security measures,” Marrok continued. “We have to start over with the introduction stations. A large group of rogues, who have apparently been banding together and hiding out in remote areas, decided to destroy them. They were so far gone, they couldn’t understand they could be saved.”

  “Did you … what happened to the rogues?”

  “Rounded them up and took them to the peninsula. It took this entire time.”

  “You didn’t kill them?”

  “I knew you didn’t want me to. I also knew if I’d turned, I would want the chance to heal. Or, at the very least, to atone for whatever I’d done without my full knowledge while I was crazed.”

  Evelyn’s heart filled. The more she knew of him, the further she fell. How could she not? His promise to come for her, to build a life with her, had her lips stretching so far across her face she thought she might crack.

  “You’re happy then?” he questioned.

  “Very.”

  She traced his brow with her finger, then his squared jaw, now covered in a thin beard. Having dreamt of his parents, Evelyn knew he strongly resembled his father, but the shape of his eyes, accented by those thick, dark lashes, came from his mother.

  She wondered what their children would look like.

  Evelyn froze. Her hand tremored slightly and she quickly balled it into a fist.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I didn’t think. It’s so obvious and I didn’t think of it,” she murmured, her face becoming pained.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Is it possible to impregnate me? I know we’re in the dreamworld, but I found your medallion and you woke with my panties, so obviously things can be transferred. I can still feel what you transferred inside me. It seems like it was a lot. Is that normal? Well, I suppose that’s irrelevant. But what about the rest?”

  Marrok barked out a laugh, then laughed even harder when her upper lip curled and she slapped his shoulder.

  “Do not laugh at me!”

  “I’m sorry,” he got out in between her smacks against his arm. His entire body was shaking, and it was only getting him more turned on.

  “It’s not funny, Marrok. What, pray tell, could I possibly tell my father? It’s not the sort of thing I could keep secret for two years!”

  “Shh, calm yourself,” he cajoled, pulling her into an even tighter embrace.

  Marrok was still inside Evelyn. Her slick warmth tested his control mercilessly. Fighting his own needs, he merely held her, waiting for his mate’s ire to cool.

  “I don’t know if conception is possible while dreamwalking. From the evidence you so shrewdly presented, it’s a distinct possibility.”

  “Oh, Goddess above,” she whispered.

  “Evelyn, hush. Now is not a time in your cycle where you are likely to be fertile.”

  Her entire body stiffened. “Excuse me?”

  “There are only certain times when a female can conceive. This holds true for she-demons, vampires, she-wolves, as well as female elementals.”

  “How do you know I’m not fertile right now?”

  “By your scent.”

  Her stunned expression was adorable. “All beings, of every faction aside from Gwydion, can tell by scent. It’s not a secret.”

  Evelyn remained frozen in place, not so much as blinking.

  “Evelyn?”

  Her head swiveled slowly, side to side. “I knew others had impeccable senses. I never … it’s just … so invasive.”

  The corner of his mouth twitched. “No one calls attention to it. To do so would be beyond rude. It’s simply an ability we’re born with. So don’t look so forlorn. This is a benefit for couples who want to wait for children. Besides, if you ever suspected you were with young before I had a chance to get your father to agree to our marriage, I’d ride to your doorstep with an army to collect you.”

  “You would?”

  “I vow it.”

  Marrok would never allow h
er to be alone in such a state, especially not in Gwydion. In his people's eyes, marriage was a formality. The saatus bond was eternally binding. As such, he and Evelyn were already committed. The King of Gwydion, however, would want Marrok and Evelyn to exchange vows.

  There was a time where the chance of marrying again would make him physically ill. Now, he could easily picture it with Evelyn. Unable to stop himself, he visualized his saatus heavy with child. Picturing her round belly did something to Marrok.

  Melena hadn’t wanted young. She’d insisted her visions had shown she would never bear him a child. The future was never set, so he’d assumed she would change her mind after a lengthy period of time.

  She’d taken her own life before they’d been able to discuss it further. He’d tried every day since to forgive her for it. Part of him hadn’t. He couldn’t even bring himself to tell Evelyn how Melena had died.

  “Marrok?”

  His vision focused on Evelyn’s worried eyes. “Yes?”

  “Where did your mind wander to just now?”

  “Nowhere.” He shook his head, upset with himself for allowing Melena into this space, into this intimate moment.

  He could tell Evelyn wanted to argue so he kissed her quiet. So easily she softened under his touch.

  “Now, tell me all the right things to say to your father before I send him a missive.”

  Evelyn’s lips twisted. “I’d rather not talk about my father while we’re still … joined.”

  Marrok smirked. “Fair point, moj draga.”

  He flexed his cock and her channel tightened in return. He rolled to his back, pulling her with him. His hands settled firmly on her hips as he thrust upward.

  Evelyn inhaled, rocking with him. Her knees tightened against his sides.

  “So tell me, shall I continue with this,” he thrust again, “or shall we talk?”

  She replied by kissing him breathless.

  * * *

  “Wake up!” Nora panicked, shaking Evelyn by her shoulders.

  Her older sister’s skin was flushed, covered in a thin sheen of sweat. She should probably go and wake Mara or Eden. Her instincts told her to stay put.

  “Stop shaking me,” Evelyn griped sleepily.

  Nora released Evie’s shoulders, waiting for her to fully come to. She scooted a little further down the bed, making sure she wasn’t in striking range from one of her sister’s slaps.

  A series of rapid blinks and Evelyn shed the remnants of slumber. Nora was chewing the inside of her cheek. Her hands fidgeted in her lap.

  Evelyn pushed herself upright. “What’s happened? Are you unwell?”

  “Am I unwell? Really? You’re the one moaning and fussing about.”

  “What?”

  “I got up to get a drink from the kitchen. When I passed back by your room you were thrashing around so much I could hear it. Then you cried out so I came in to check on you.”

  Evelyn covered her face. She could still feel traces of Marrok’s powers, like electric currents running up and down her limbs. She knew exactly what Nora had heard. She’d still been in his arms when she’d been pulled away from the dream.

  Anxious to return, she told Nora, “Just a weird dream. I’m fine.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yes. Go back to bed.”

  Nora didn’t move.

  “Really, I promise I’m fine.”

  “Okay. Yell for me if you need me, though, alright?”

  Evelyn’s embarrassment disappeared, filled with appreciation for her little sister. She heaved Nora into a tight embrace.

  “I will,” she said into Nora’s blonde hair.

  “Can I get you anything before I go?” Nora asked, rising and stepping towards the door.

  “No. Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight, Evie.”

  When the door clicked, Evelyn got out of bed and entered the bathroom. She filled the basin and splashed her face, trying to cool down.

  As she dried herself with the hand towel, a cool dampness tickled between her legs. She lifted her gown and gasped.

  Small smears of red lined the creases where her inner thighs met her trunk. Despite Marrok being a kingdom away, he had most assuredly taken her virginity while they slept. Dreamworld or not, what they’d done was real.

  Evelyn smiled to herself, finished cleaning up, and returned to bed. When next they met, she’d need to tell him how best to approach the King of Gwydion.

  Chapter 17

  Six Months Later …

  Quietly as she could, Evelyn hovered just outside her father’s study. Today, a missive from Marrok had arrived. It was the third one he’d sent, the first of which arrived three months ago.

  Father had yet to mention any of them to Evelyn. Nor had he told Eden, the daughter he trusted most with matters of diplomacy. Since Eden’s broken engagement, he’d been grooming her to be his successor. Keeping this from Eden wasn’t a good sign.

  “Will you not even consider it, Edward?” her grandfather, Flynn, asked.

  “You think I should?”

  Evelyn’s stomach tightened. From Marrok, she’d learned her father had delayed his response to the first inquiry of a possible engagement. When he finally replied, it had been a polite declination.

  The second message from Marrok was more pragmatic, offering to visit and court Evelyn, to see if they were compatible. Edward wrote back, citing some nonsense he felt his middle daughter was not mature enough to consider marriage at this point in time.

  Evelyn had been furious. She was only two short seasons away from turning twenty-two—less than half a year. Soon after Evelyn’s coming birthday, her younger sister would turn twenty and be married off to the King of Burghard.

  Marrok had talked her down and promised to continue his endeavor to broker the marriage. He also made Evelyn promise not to confront her father.

  “I think it’s something to think about,” Flynn replied, breaking Evelyn out of her memory. “This letter is different. He has no reason to lie about his reasons. He’s given you cause to consider his offer. Besides, your argument over her maturity was quite weak, my son.”

  “It was all I could come up with at the time.”

  “Why are you so opposed?”

  “Have you met Marrok?”

  “I have.”

  “Do you know how he came to be on the throne of Sundari?”

  “Brennen passed away and left no heirs. Marrok was the only surviving royal, so he inherited his title by birthright.”

  “He didn’t simply pass away. Demons are immortal and, thus, notoriously difficult to kill. Brennen, who was not someone I looked upon favorably, mind you, did not die of natural causes. Everyone in Imperium knows he lost his heart. What we don’t know is how.”

  “You think Marrok did it.”

  “Who else would have been strong enough?”

  A chair creaked. Evelyn could picture her grandfather shifting in his rickety old seat, the one he refused to get rid of.

  “Brennen was a blight on Sundari, Edward. You know it. If Marrok had the courage to eliminate his uncle from further damaging the Southland, I would think that would be a testament to his character. Sometimes we must do things we detest to protect that which we hold dear.”

  “You mean, greater good and all that?” Edward complained.

  “Yes. Don’t hold Evelyn back from her future because you are dreading Nora’s move to Burghard.”

  Evelyn’s pulse quickened. Finally, someone was being the voice of reason.

  “That’s not what I’m doing.”

  “Aren’t you?”

  Edward sighed. “Not purposefully.”

  The silence stretched. Evelyn thought she might have heard drawers opening and papers shuffling.

  “I will hear him out, but I want to see him face to face. Reply back. Tell him, the first new moon after the summer solstice, I’ll expect his arrival. We’ll discuss it then, not before. I’m inclined to worry about only one daughter at a time.”


  “I assume you don’t want me to write that last part?” Flynn jibed.

  “Just send the damn message.”

  Flynn laughed again and Evelyn tiptoed away.

  * * *

  “How many this month?” Marrok asked, pen and paper in hand to add to the tallies.

  “Five, Sire.”

  He set down his pen. “Only five?”

  “Yes.”

  “Any new saatus discoveries?”

  “Yes.”

  Marrok stared at Favin, waiting for him to elaborate. “Well, then? How many?” he prodded, only slightly exasperated.

  “Fifty-seven.”

  “Come again?”

  “He said, ‘fifty-seven!’” Danil shouted from the corner where he was currently helping himself to Marrok’s favorite whiskey. “Surely you’re not so old as to already be losing your hearing?”

  Favin snorted.

  “You,” Marrok pointed at his stocky, white-haired friend, mildly annoyed the male was pilfering his best spirits, “knock it off. You know demons don’t lose their hearing. Not from age, anyway.”

  Danil lifted his glass. Favin laughed outright this time. Marrok couldn’t help but give in to a smile. Things were going well. Better than well. Great. So great, it was difficult to trust it.

  Marrok knew the number of new rogues had been in steady decline these past months, heading to ever smaller sums. He hadn’t known there’d been a dramatic increase in newfound mates.

  Fifty-seven was more than all the previous months combined. It meant one hundred fourteen demons had been paired with their destined mates. It hardly made a dent in the rogue population, but it was nothing to scoff at.

  Marrok quickly entered the new tallies and closed the ledger. “It seems our plan is working, gentlemen.”

  “Indeed, Sire.”

  “Favin, it’s just us. You can stop with the formalities.”

  “Sorry. Habit.”

  “Anything else before I turn in for the night?”

  Tonight was his night with Evelyn. He hadn’t seen her in a week. Though they could meet more often now, he still refused to dreamwalk every night. He visited a different station each week to check in, and he never risked a deep sleep while on the road. Once a week was manageable.