Claimed by a Demon King

by Felicity Heaton

  There were smaller kingdoms beyond it and the elven one, none of them labelled. Olivia had told her that gods and goddesses had realms in Hell, and so did other species such as fallen angels and creatures that sounded more myth than reality.

  Familiar heat burned through her, but cold swept close to its heels. She looked across to her right, towards where Thorne had been, and was now gone. Fargus stood there talking to two demon males. His dark crimson gaze shifted to her.

  Her wrist burned.

  Sable rubbed it, trying to relieve the fierce ache. She needed to get Olivia to look at it. It had played up several times since her arrival in the Third Realm. She had a naturally fast healing ability, much quicker than all the other hunters at Archangel. If she had knocked it or injured it in a fight, it should have healed by now.

  The other two demons glanced her way. The burning sensation in her wrist increased and this time her gift triggered. A prickling sensation spread through her limbs. A warning. She palmed the blade strapped to her thigh and obeyed her instincts. She turned away from the demons and exited through the door the werewolves had used.

  Sable marched at double time along the long hallway and then took the steps down to the first floor two at a time, not slowing until she had placed a good distance between her and the library.

  Her head ached and she rubbed her temples, hoping to alleviate it. She hadn’t caught much sleep and the clarity that Thorne’s gift of coffee had given her was beginning to wear off. Maybe she had been imagining the threat in the library. She had no doubt that Fargus knew she was Thorne’s fated female and that meant the male wouldn’t dare try anything with her.

  She scrubbed a hand over her face, trying to shake her bad feeling, and turned down the hallway that led to her room.

  Olivia and Loren were about to enter their quarters.

  “Liv,” Sable hollered and her friend paused at the threshold and smiled at her. “Wait up.”

  She hurried over to them and Loren looked disappointed.

  “Not interrupting some afternoon delight, am I?” Sable grinned when he blushed, cleared his throat and placed his hands on Olivia’s waist.

  Olivia looked over her shoulder at him.

  He gently squeezed her and dropped a kiss on her lips. “I will go with Bleu to see to my men.”

  “Wait,” Sable blurted before he could turn away and then wasn’t sure what to say when he looked expectantly at her. She blew out her breath and her shoulders sagged. “Tell Bleu I’m sorry.”

  Loren arched a single black eyebrow. “You do not need to apologise to him, Sable.”

  “I do. I just feel that maybe I sent out the wrong signals or something… I just don’t want this to escalate. I don’t want two grown men acting like idiots because of me.”

  Loren smiled. “Understood. I will relay your apology to him and will try to adjust his behaviour before this evening’s gathering.”

  “Just… at least convince him to start speaking to me again. I feel like I’ve lost a friend… and I don’t like it.”

  Olivia frowned and touched Sable’s arm, and she was grateful for her friend’s concern and comfort.

  Loren heaved a sigh. “Bleu can be a handful. I will speak with him.”

  The dark glint in his eyes warned Sable that it wouldn’t be a nice heart to heart between him and Bleu. She didn’t want to get Bleu into trouble with Loren or put a strain on their relationship too.

  “Go easy on him, Big Guy. Just tell him I’m sorry and that it hurts when he doesn’t speak to me and acts like I don’t exist.” Sable held his gaze, hoping he would see in her eyes that she didn’t want him to berate Bleu or force him to be nice to her.

  Loren nodded. “Understood.”

  He pressed another kiss to Olivia’s lips and then walked along the corridor towards the stairs down to the great hall.

  The moment he was out of sight, Sable turned to Olivia. “I totally interrupted his afternoon delight, didn’t I?”

  Olivia giggled. “He can wait… I would rather hear about you and Thorne. What’s happening there?”

  Sable wasn’t convinced her friend preferred gossip over hot sex with her mate but she followed Olivia into her room anyway. “Nothing. Nothing at all… and that’s how it’s going to stay.”

  Her friend looked disappointed now. “A wise woman once told me that I was crazy for trying to let a wonderful man walk out of my life.”

  “I think that woman might have been certifiably crazy herself.” Sable crossed the room to the threadbare armchairs beside the large stone fireplace to her right and sat down on one. “Besides, it’s a little different.”

  “How?” Olivia sat opposite her.

  “Thorne is a demon… and then there’s Bleu.” She stood again, unable to keep still while she was talking about the two definitely certifiable males.

  She paced the room, striding back and forth between the foot of the large four-poster bed and the armchairs.

  “Ah, so you’ve finally noticed that Bleu has the hots for a little Sable action.”

  Sable tossed her a glare. “I was blind not to notice it… thinking back on it… the guy followed me around like I was a bitch in heat.”

  “He just likes you. He’s been like it since he set eyes on you.”

  She froze. “He’s not…”

  She couldn’t bring herself to say it.

  Olivia shook her head and relief beat sweet and swift through Sable.

  “Loren doesn’t think that he’s your mate. He thinks Bleu is just horny and wants more than fighting with you.”

  Sable groaned and flopped onto the four-poster bed on her back. She didn’t want to acknowledge that Loren and Olivia had been discussing her and Bleu in that way. It was wrong on so many levels.

  She stretched her arms out across the silky furs beneath her and a vision of Thorne laying her down on her bed like this, covering her body with his big muscular one, and kissing her left her aching for some afternoon delight of her own.

  She really needed to get her thoughts off both men.

  She tilted her head and looked at her right wrist and the tattoo on it. The ache had dulled to a throb now. She flexed her fingers and rotated her hand, trying to detect if it was still injured.

  “You okay?” Olivia said and crossed the room to her.

  “My wrist is bothering me. It aches from time to time.” Sable sat up and rubbed it. “I probably knocked it.”

  Olivia sat sideways on the bed beside her and took hold of her wrist, bringing it to her. “Let me see.”

  Sable kept still while Olivia checked her wrist over, watching her friend carefully rotate it and feel her bones.

  “No bruising and your tendons seem fine.” Olivia looked up at her. “Does it hurt when I do this?”

  She pressed into the delicate flesh on the inside of Sable’s wrist and Sable shook her head.

  “Press, prod, poke… no problem. It just aches sometimes… like a burning.” Sable took her wrist back and rubbed it. “It’s not so bad now, but it really hurt earlier in the meeting room.”

  “I’ll strap it up. Could be you just banged it. I can’t feel any problems with it… but keep an eye on it, okay?” Olivia rose, went to one of her black holdalls and opened it. She took out a roll of crepe bandage and came back to Sable.

  Sable held her arm out and Olivia strapped it up, wrapping the cream bandage around her hand and then up her wrist and back again. She tried to keep her thoughts away from Bleu and Thorne, but it was impossible. She wanted Bleu as her friend but knew that he couldn’t just let go of his desire for her and extinguish it. The way he had looked at her during the meeting warned her that he wasn’t going to give up, not even if she asked him to, or begged him.

  He was going to pursue her.

  He was going to come to blows with Thorne again and her gut said it would be sooner rather than later, and nothing she did would stop it.

  And Thorne?

  Sable picked at the bandage around her
wrist.

  She wanted Thorne as more than a friend but she wasn’t Olivia. She lived her life on the frontline and death chased her every night she went out on patrol, waiting for the moment she slipped up or took on more than she could handle. She didn’t have a quiet position within Archangel as Olivia did and she didn’t want one either. She didn’t want to give up her career, a calling that she relished and loved, and Thorne would demand that of her if she ever consented to be his mate.

  “You okay?” Olivia’s soft voice broke into her dire thoughts and she shook her head and pressed her hand to it.

  “Tired… having man trouble from Hell.” Sable tried to smile. “Hung over.”

  “Get some rest.” Olivia squeezed her shoulder.

  Sable nodded. Maybe a nap would help clear her head and give her the strength to face the gathering tonight. Evan could handle the training sessions without her. She hated giving him any opportunity to prove himself better commander material, but she needed some rest. Just an hour would do. She would catch up with him and the others later, after her nap.

  She stood, bent and hugged her friend, and then made her way back to her room. She closed the door behind her, strode to the bed and flopped onto her front, exhaling hard the moment she hit the soft furs.

  Sable stared at her bandaged wrist.

  Tonight was going to be a challenge and she would sooner face a legion of demons than stand in a room filled with people staring at her, and with two men who both wanted her and were willing to kill the other to possess her.

  Sable groaned and closed her eyes.

  She blanked her mind and waited for sleep to take her.

  When it did, Thorne was waiting for her.

  CHAPTER 7

  Thorne was dreaming, but it was more than a dream. It was vivid. Real.

  Sable lay stretched out on the huge four-poster bed before him, dressed only in the tiny black shorts she had worn when he had visited her and a matching black cotton bra. The simple underwear was erotic on her, arousing him to the point of pain. She writhed on the tawny furs, shifting sensually, a wicked dance designed to tempt him.

  He stood at the foot of the bed and had been for the past five minutes or longer, watching her as she wriggled, drawing deep lungfuls of the sweet scent of her desire, drinking in the way she was looking at him as if she was on fire and only he could quench the flames.

  She wanted him.

  Here in this vision, she was his.

  Her golden eyes implored him and her fingers tangled in the long silken black threads of her hair. She brought her knees together and swayed them side-to-side, rubbing her thighs together and entrancing him until he couldn’t tear his gaze from them. She parted her legs then, slowly revealing the black cotton hiding her feminine core from his hungry eyes. His chest heaved and his horns curled, desire getting the better of him, driving him to bring his knee up onto the bed to mount it and cover her delicious, soft body with his.

  Sable closed her legs, shutting them tight, stealing Heaven from view.

  His heart pounded a tribal beat against his chest, a rhythm that grew in pace as she swayed her knees and gradually parted them to reveal herself again.

  He growled.

  Her eyes flashed with hunger in response and she licked her lips.

  Wicked female.

  She had never been like this in his dreams and he knew why.

  She had never slept at the same time as him before. They had never shared the same vision. He had only been able to imagine what his fated one would be like, and what he had envisaged hadn’t come close to reality.

  She was everything he had dreamed and so much more.

  Sable crooked her finger at him and he was a slave at her command.

  Thorne unlaced his white shirt and pulled it over his head. Sable sucked in a sharp breath and he looked at her, catching the dark edge of desire in her gaze as it roamed his body, heating him wherever it caressed and lingered.

  He drew in his own deep breath to steady himself and dropped his shirt. He stood before her, giving her time to rake her eyes over him, to study his body as he studied hers, enjoying the way desire flickered in her fiery gaze. She wanted him.

  He wanted her.

  Never more so than this time.

  He had dreamed of her every night without fail over the past lunar cycle, and what he lacked in experience in reality, he had in abundance here in his dreams.

  He would possess her, would bend his strong, beautiful female to his will, and he would claim her, and she would know that she belonged to him, body and soul.

  His forever.

  She would want no other.

  He would see to it.

  Thorne tugged the laces on his leather trousers and Sable’s hungry gaze fell to his hands. She followed every move he made, her absorbed look bringing his nerves to the fore. He squashed them, reminding himself that this was a vision, not reality. Here in this dream, he was master, he was king, and his little vixen would know it.

  He shoved his leathers down and her moan made his heart hitch and slam against his chest, and his length pulse with want.

  Sable moved onto her knees before him and he groaned this time, the sight of her petite behind hugged by black cotton too much for him to bear.

  She crawled towards him, reached out and stroked a single finger down the length of his engorged shaft. Thorne hissed through his teeth and tilted his head back, every muscle tensing as her caress scalded him.

  She ran her finger back up, slowly encircling his shaft with her hand as she moved, and rubbed her thumb over the blunt head.

  Thorne couldn’t take it.

  He dropped his head, grasped the back of her neck and dragged her up to him. She pressed against his chest, her naked flesh searing his, and moaned as he claimed her lips in a fierce, demanding kiss. Her hands settled against his pectorals and then slid upwards, coming to grasp his shoulders, fingers kneading and nails pressing in as he deepened the kiss. Their tongues tangled and he drove his into her mouth, unwilling to let her seize control.

  She would know that she belonged to him.

  Thorne pulled her closer. Instinct made him hold back even though he couldn’t hurt her in their dreams. Sable didn’t seem to care that his strength could so easily injure her.

  She clawed his shoulders and groaned into his mouth, her hot tongue probing his, teasing him to the brink of madness.

  Thorne growled, caught her shoulders and pushed her backwards. She fell onto the bed on her back. Her wide eyes slowly narrowed, heated desire colouring their golden depths, calling to him. His roughness had only increased her arousal. He groaned now, the thought that she wanted him to be rough with her, to be dominant, sparking every instinct he had. It was impossible to ignore them.

  Not when she was daring him to let go and unleash his desire.

  He shoved his trousers off and kicked them away, and she moaned as he mounted the bed. He crawled towards her and she wriggled backwards, a wicked smile curving her kiss-swollen lips. He made them his target, staring hard at them as he caught her ankle and yanked her down the bed to him. She squealed and he caught the rest of it in his kiss. Her lips played hard with his, goading him. She was trying to make him play rougher.

  Thorne groaned again and gave her what she desired, kissing her so hard that he forced her down against the bed. She moaned and nipped at his lower lip with her blunt teeth. He grunted as a spear of lightning bolted through him and growled as he lost himself in the kiss. He grasped her wrists and pinned her arms above her head, shoving them hard against the soft furs.

  Sable moaned low, the sound profoundly wanton. His length pulsed in response, jerking against his stomach. She arched into him and her body pressed into his, wrecking his concentration. He pulled back and stared down at her, lost in how she rocked against him, her slender body rubbing against his stomach.

  “Thorne,” she whispered and he was more than lost.

  The sound of her uttering his name in a passion-dre
nched plea drove every instinct he had as a demon male to the fore.

  His female needed him.

  She needed release and he would give it to her.

  Thorne released one of her hands and tore her black cotton bra from her, unleashing her breasts. They jiggled from the force of his actions and he swooped on one pebbled dusky nipple, pulling it hard into his mouth. Sable jerked against him and cried out, the sound of her pleasure filling the room and driving him on. He sucked hard on the pearly bud, tearing another cry of bliss from his female. She arched into him, hips rocking wildly, her actions seemingly beyond her control as she sought more pleasure to bring about her release.

  He groaned against her breast and kissed downwards, his instincts screaming at him to satisfy her and end her torment, to give her the ecstasy she craved and give it to himself at the same time.

  She wriggled and writhed, a frantic edge to her movements. “Thorne.”

  His horns curled, twisting over and flaring forwards. She moaned and he looked up to find her staring at him, or more specifically his horns.

  His female brought out the demon in him, and she liked it.

  He bared his fangs and growled as he shredded her panties with his claws, tearing the material from her flesh. She breathed harder, chest heaving, her breasts jutting upwards and calling him back to them. Gods, he needed her.

  “Sable,” he muttered and stared deep into her eyes, fighting the change as it came over him. She liked him in this state, driven wild by her, with his fangs, claws and horns on show and his eyes blazing scarlet, but she wouldn’t like it if he lost control and changed completely, his wings unfurling and his body growing in size.

  Sable grinned wickedly and the next few seconds were a blur as she got her legs between them, wrapped them around his neck and twisted at the middle, slamming him into his back.

  Thorne stared up at her, basking in her victorious smile and her strength, and then inched his gaze downwards. Heaven.