King Of Shadows: The Shadowcrown Duet

by Kay Elle Parker

  Her eyes dropped to his crotch, her eyebrow flicked up, and the faintest sneer nudged her luscious mouth. Mockery danced alongside the blue flames when she met his gaze. “Yes, I have no problem believing that at all.”

  Impudent wench, Kian thought as the barb hit home and stung. No matter. When she was beneath him, writhing and pleading to come, he would deny her. Over and over again, she would rise to the pinnacle and be slapped back to earth without her wings taking flight.

  Only when she submitted, completely and finally, to his dominance, would she be permitted to experience the high of orgasm.

  Wouldn’t that be fun?

  “Your punishment isn’t over, Allianna. Back into position.” Temper at the forefront, he barely had the patience to wait until her ass was raised before he cracked the belt down, eliciting a satisfying squeal and clench of buttocks. He spread another four blows up over the curve of her ass, saving the sixth and final strike for the hit that would drive the lesson home. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Allianna. I will touch you where I want, when I want, one way or another.”

  “Go to hell, Kian.”

  The leather landed precisely where he intended, with enough force to rip an honest scream from her throat. Kian dropped the belt and yanked her upright, spinning her into him, covering her mouth with his as shocked tears streamed down her cheeks and hard sobs shook her. He kissed her passionately, as though he hadn’t just stripped her bare with one savage lash down the length of her tender pussy.

  Kissed her with all the hunger, all the love he had for her.

  Kissed her as though—well, fuck.

  Kian pulled away from her, her teeth still biting deep into his bottom lip, then ran his thumb over the bleeding wound. Such a hellion for one born from angelic ancestry. Prepared to add a few hard spanks to the tally he’d just rained down on her, he paused when she broke all contact and dived for her clothes. “Allianna.”

  The hand she held up in his direction trembled, but she refused to look at him. Her breaths were strangled whines as she abandoned her bra and scrambled into her shirt and hoody. Whines became distressed whimpers as she tried to wriggle into her baggy pants.

  “Allianna, wait.” Kian growled, deep enough to make her pause. He crossed to her, just a couple of short steps, but she was wary enough to take a swift and pointed one away from him. He caught her hand, didn’t miss the way it fisted. “Let me check you over.”

  “Fuck you. You want to let the demon out for a frolic, Kian, you go find one of your whores.” Allianna yanked her hand free, winced as she managed to dress herself. When she switched the lamp on beside the chair, she still avoided his gaze and Kian didn’t like it. She hobbled out of his reach and toward the bag of groceries, as though the menial task might provide some comfort. “I’d appreciate it if you would leave, my Lord. I’d prefer it if you didn’t come back.”

  “Allianna,” Kian said softly. “I’m not leaving here without you.”

  Her fist slammed down on the table, making the bag jump and the rickety piece of shit furniture almost crumbled to dust. “I don’t want you here, Kian. Knowing both sides of you, I could live with the man. Love the man. Spend eternity with the man as his queen while he sits on the Shadow throne. But this? The way you let the demon treat me is beyond contempt, Kian, and I deserve more. I’m more than a punching bag, more than a fucking incubator for your fucking prophecy! If you wanted me to be your queen, you’d treat me as such. I won’t be your goddamned whore.”

  He clenched his jaw. “Will you please look at me?”

  The bag rustled and he narrowly caught the apple that would have beaned him clean between the eyes. He wasn’t quite so lucky with the cheap can of tuna that followed a second later. It clocked him on the bridge of his nose like a missile.

  Enough was enough. Kian stalked forward and snatched the bag of food from her grasp before she could throw anything else at him, tossed it aside with a clatter. They grappled, his hands firm on her face as she clawed and raked at his with short, broken nails.

  She was strong, even more so when she felt she was being overpowered. But he was the Lord of Shadows, powerful in his own right without having to invoke the additional magic of his bloodline. The crappy table splintered as he rapped her into it, falling into pieces around their feet. He kicked them aside, shoving her against the wall, shushing her when she yelped.

  “No more of this. We are supposed to be as one, Allianna. A force to be reckoned with, to be revered throughout the realm, worshipped for eternity. A united front where you love me as much as I love you. And love you I do, my little rose.” Kian sighed, ran his hand down her side to her hip while his other wiped at the tears on her ashen face. “Punishment is never easy, my sweet. It hurts for a reason. Running from me should never be easy, because that hurts for a reason.” His fingers trailed around the slack waistband of her pants, delved down. “Be still, little rose. This will only take a moment.”

  Allianna pressed herself into the wall, her hands braced against his chest. Her breath hitched, choked out when his fingertips ran along the heated seam between her thighs. He pressed gently, discovered the slickness she hid so well, and smiled as her forehead dropped onto his chest with a plaintive moan.

  The demon cackled, urging Kian to push just a little more, cross the line another inch. Let the silky moisture coat their fingers, and those fingers plunder the sinful delights she didn’t want to share.

  He could imagine doing it. Had done so for years. Tugging those offensive pants down over welted flesh to her ankles, kneeling in front of her and spreading her thighs. Gripping her hips in his hands, tilting her for easier access as his tongue and teeth and lips went on a wild discovery of virgin territory while Allianna clung to his hair and keened.

  Instead he felt the bite of her nails in his chest, heard the panic in her voice as she said simply, “Please don’t, Kian. Please don’t.”

  Torn between appeasing his future bride or keeping his demon happy, Kian found himself in a corner. It was a matter of balance—if he let the demon have its way now and take a little piece of Allianna, Kian would not have a pleasant night fighting her for what was his.

  Giving her this reprieve, however brief, might be enough to shore up the gaps in their unstable trust and offer him firm standing when he took her on the altar later that evening. At the very least, it might mean he could get her to the chamber before she started a war.

  With one last stroke along her slit, he let his fingertips brush over the small bump of her clit as he drew his hand free. Her hips jerked toward him and the scent of her arousal wafted briefly, turning his blood into a testosterone inferno.

  Everything would be so much easier once she was claimed, bound, and his love for her became clear through the fog of her fear. Three months away from him had weakened their connection; he would strengthen it, and his queen would not be left to flail blindly in the uncertainty of her emotions.

  That’s all this rebellion was about—fear.

  “Come, Allianna,” he murmured, coaxing her to wrap her arms around his neck while he stepped on the crotch of her pants and boosted her legs around his waist, leaving the material in a pool on the floor. Glancing at the room, he saw nothing he considered of importance, and thought little of the clothing scattered on the floor. He had all he needed from this plane of existence in his arms, and it was time to take her home.

  Carrying her back into the cramped living room, Kian switched the lamp off and plunged the room back into darkness and shadows. The portal he’d used to enter her abode was still open but needed redirecting. It wouldn’t do to have the queen of the Shadow realm exposed to the mortal world with her beautifully-marked derriere hanging in the wind.

  He couldn’t wait to get out of this hellhole. The mortal plane was a humdrum of activity and emotion; it hummed in the air, through the ground, humanity polluting what should have been a peaceful, tranquil environment.

  The Shadow realm might be chaos, but it was balanced.


  The portal shimmered like a blacklight on water, the faintest purple sheen masking its location. Kian passed his hand over the surface, closing his eyes and concentrating on rerouting the portal’s outward destination. It sang with his command, the shadows within purring as they sensed their master.

  Arms tight around Allianna, he stepped into the portal and let the ethereal caresses wrap around him as he reached out and closed the doorway to the mortal world. No sense in letting some foolish human get lost in the vast landscape of a realm they didn’t belong in...they’d be played with, tortured, devoured.

  Kian’s lips twitched. That might make for fascinating entertainment. But he had more important issues to deal with, and he whispered to the shadows rubbing against him, worshipping Allianna’s trembling form, to take them back to his chambers safely and with haste.

  Their song became a chant, spiraling into a chorus of sound to match the speed at which they ushered their Lord through the realm. Well used to the cacophony, the motion of travelling in such a manner, Kian soothed Allianna as he felt her try to retch. His voice was lost in the maelstrom of shadows, but his touch was not.

  He stepped out of the opposite doorway like he’d simply crossed a threshold between one room and another. The shadows purred sadly as he closed the portal down, unwilling to give his little rose an easy escape if she decided one lesson on running wasn’t enough.

  Islador stood guard in the chamber’s doorway, eyebrow quirked and approval in his gray eyes. He was once considered a pretty demon in his younger years, his human façade appealing to every mortal female he came in contact with, and not a few males. But he’d gone to war for Kian, come back victorious and bearing the scars of a warrior.

  Pretty became dangerous, and Islador’s chambers were a constant revolving door of eager bodies lining up for a chance at the promised land while well-satisfied, well-fucked individuals tumbled back out.

  He was as dark as Kian, both favoring the short cut, but he was slowly becoming what mortals termed a silver fox. Liberal silver laced his temples and worked through the full head of sleek black hair. When he was aroused, by sex or by battle, his eyes gleamed the same color.

  Kian had witnessed females swoon at the sight of Islador at the height of his arousal. Not an easy feat as most women of the realm would fuck anything and anyone without taking notice of their lover’s face or attributes.

  “By the way the shadows whispered, I thought you must have been successful,” his Second-in-command said with a grin. He stepped forward, sniffing, then curled his lip. “The mortal plane leaves a goddamn stench on a person. Did she give you much trouble?”

  Kian carried her to his bed. The massive four-poster could have slept ten with ease. The oak headboard was carved with intricate designs, the insignia of the Lord of Shadows, and was kept polished to a gleam. The mattress was ridiculously soft and seemed to suck Allianna down when he laid her on it.

  This would be their bed. They would share this space every night, and he would fall asleep with her in his arms, wake with his cock inside her every morning. But not tonight. Tonight was for ceremony and tradition.

  “Some. She’ll be sore when she wakes.” Kian brushed the hair away from her face. She was indeed asleep, no doubt exhausted by her punishment and the stress of returning home by portal. “There are some things I need to deal with, Islador.”

  Steely eyes didn’t blink but Islador stood a little straighter. “What do you need me to do, my Lord? I am at your beck.”

  Such a loyal soldier, Kian thought in appreciation. Not just a loyal warrior, but his most trusted advisor and best friend. That was why what came next could only be left to Islador, and whomever Islador trusted in turn. “I want the altar room preparing while she sleeps. Full restraints, Islador. She is stronger than she looks. If she wakes, all work must cease. Allianna does not find out what is happening until the last possible moment, do you understand?”

  “Protecting your bride from what she already knows is coming, Kian?”

  “Knowing and understanding are two different concepts. She thinks she knows what goes on in there, but the reality is far from anything she can imagine. I do not want her to worry.”

  Islador nodded. “I will get a team on it right away. When she wakes?”

  Kian ran his thumb along her cheekbone. Such delicate bone structure. “She is to be bathed. Get that shit out of her hair. I won’t accept anything less than gleaming, angelic white. Make sure the washerwomen give her that concoction. She is to be kept warm, dry, until...”

  “Clothing?”

  Kian lost himself in thoughts. His little rose, freshly washed and pampered, that white-blonde hair flowing around her breasts, her shoulders. “No, no gown, no robe. Braid her hair as the washerwomen see fit, I want it out of the way.”

  “Allianna is not stupid, Kian. Once all this fussing starts, she’ll know something is afoot. Are you sure you want to press ahead with this tonight? You might find she’s more receptive if you give her chance to settle back into routine here,” Islador said nonchalantly. “The shadows talk on all planes, my Lord, and your bride is most disillusioned with you.”

  “I’m aware,” Kian replied bluntly. “I’m not giving her another chance to run. Three months of living in squalor among the humans is enough, thank you. She will settle into a routine as my wife, and we will build upon that.”

  Wisely, Islador said no more on the matter.

  “When she’s prepared, bind her. The tonic should keep her malleable while you situate her but use a team as backup. I want no mistakes. I’ll require you to be here for the reading of the runes,” Kian added. “Whether you choose to stay for the rest falls to you, brother.”

  Islador’s eyebrow flicked up. “I didn’t think you’d want an audience. Allianna certainly won’t.”

  “Once it begins, she won’t know much of what goes on around her. The choice is yours, Islador. As you’ll be the one reading the runes that bind us, you’ll be the witness to our joining if you wish.” Kian pushed to his feet and away from temptation. The next few hours were going to be hell, knowing his little rose was being buffed and polished so he could ravish her. “I’m leaving her in your care, brother. Should anything happen to her, it will be on your head.”

  “It always is, my Lord.” Islador studied the sleeping girl with sympathetic eyes. “If you put her through this trial, Kian, there’s a chance you’ll break her. She was raised with you as her father, her brother, her disciplinarian.”

  He loved that word. Disciplinarian. It rolled off the tongue as efficiently as his belt bounced off her upturned ass. But that’s where Islador was wrong—Allianna’s infractions had been so few and far between, she hadn’t needed someone in place to discipline her.

  “She was. Now she’ll see me as her husband, her lover, her king.” And, fuck yes, her disciplinarian. Because that attitude of hers was only going to act out more over the next few days, and his temper would only accept so much before he demanded obedience despite the circumstances. “Once she’s over the shock of losing her virginities, she’ll be fine. That’s what the tonic is for.”

  “You’d rely on the magic of necromancers and demonic midwives to offer comfort in a time when the only thing she’ll need is you?” Islador shook his head in disgust. “The tonic doesn’t work on all, my Lord. There are exceptions, females who do not respond to the spells. You’d risk Allianna that way?”

  Scowling, Kian resisted punching his friend for his defiance. “Tradition will be followed, Islador. By morning, Allianna will be mated, she will be bred, and she will sit by my side as my queen. The tonic will work as it has done so for centuries, and the last three months will be written off as a fucking nightmare. Are we clear on this?”

  Islador lifted his hands in surrender. “She is yours, my Lord, as she has been from the first. I won’t question you again.”

  Something in the other man’s tone rankled Kian. It carried an edge of you’ll regret this and don’t say
I didn’t warn you. With a sharp nod to indicate his displeasure, Kian strode out of his chambers with his temper barely under control and Islador’s words burning through his chest.

  She is yours, my Lord, as she has been from the first.

  Damn straight, Kian snarled as he stomped toward his office. She was his, and by the end of the night, she would know just who she belonged to.

  Chapter Three

  Her skin crawled.

  That was what woke her, the first nudge towards awakening. The sense of being watched, of hands on her. That eerie sensation of every hair on her body standing to attention, alerting her to something not right in her world.

  Hushed voices, just two, both female. But she could smell the hard, earthy scent of males. Not Kian’s scent, she knew, but the scent of warriors from the lower rankings of the realm. Guards on duty to keep her from, what? Killing the two helpless females whispering over her? She wasn’t a murderer, at least not of innocents.

  “She’s waking,” one of the females hissed. “Get the bottle.”

  Alli moaned softly, feeling comfortable and warm in whatever bed she was in. Knowing she was back in the realm didn’t scare her, she’d known it was coming. One day soon, it would all be hers to rule anyway. Her fingers twitched, her foot jerked as her body woke as slowly as her mind.

  Someone cupped her head, lifted it, while fingers pried open her lips, her jaw. This, she didn’t know what to do with. Her eyes popped open, blurred and still mostly asleep, but she managed to pick out four unfocused faces within eyesight. Flailing a little, she tried to smack the hands away, but the womens’ scent drew closer and scaled hands pinned hers down to cool sheets.

  “Shush, Allianna.” A familiar voice crooned. “Shush, my treasure.”

  The smell of something bittersweet hit her nose, bringing forth a savage memory as liquid dribbled into her mouth. Coughing, spluttering, retching the damn stuff back up, Alli remembered the last time she’d smelled that sickly sweet odor. Just a whiff, a fleeting shock to her system when she was a child, sneaking around in Kian’s bedroom wanting to hide so he would seek her.