Claimed by a Demon King

by Felicity Heaton

  Vail’s face twisted into a vicious, cruel visage, his fangs long between his lips and his eyes darkening by degrees.

  He continued to bash the unconscious male’s head into the earth, smashing it until Thorne could no longer recognise him as the demon foe who had loomed behind Olivia.

  “Vail,” Olivia whispered, slowly pushing herself onto her side, her face a picture of horror. “Please stop.”

  Vail snarled at her, shoved the demon’s head into the ground with the one that clasped the back of it and yanked forwards with the other that gripped one of the demon’s horns. It cracked and he ripped it free.

  “Vail!” The deep male voice rang out over the battle and Vail lifted his head, his gaze narrowing on a point beyond Thorne.

  Thorne turned to see Loren fighting to reach them, Bleu battling at his side. Loren threw his left hand forwards, sending a blast of telekinesis at the foes blocking his path. They flew in all directions and Loren surged forwards, using his blade to take down the next group of enemies and then teleporting closer to his brother. Bleu followed, assisting his prince and taking down any foe the male left untouched, slashing and stabbing at them with his spear. Loren held his side, growled as blood pumped from between his fingers, and gritted his teeth. He teleported again but only made it a short distance before reappearing.

  Thorne had to detain Vail. Loren wouldn’t reach his brother in time if he didn’t.

  Thorne teleported, appearing directly behind Vail. He slid his arms beneath Vail’s, tightly locked his forearms against the elf’s shoulders, and hauled him off the dead demon. Vail snarled and flailed, lashing out with his claws and catching Thorne’s arms, leaving long gashes in his vambraces.

  The male pressed his feet into the ground and launched upwards. The back of his helmet connected hard with Thorne’s nose. Blood burst from it, streaming over his lips. Thorne growled at him and Vail twisted free, landing in a crouch before Olivia. The elf held his hand out behind him, towards her, and bared his fangs at Thorne.

  “Vail,” Loren whispered as he reached them and halted a short distance away, breathing hard. Fear flickered across his bloodstained face and he held his hand out to his brother. “Vail?”

  Vail turned on him, rising to his feet at the same time, and cast him a pained and fearful look.

  Olivia whimpered as she tried to move her arm and Vail’s expression shifted, darkening once more, becoming savage and cruel.

  He snarled something at Loren in the elf language.

  Loren’s purple eyes shone with something akin to guilt and he reached for Vail.

  Vail hesitated.

  Thorne held his breath. Would the younger elf allow his brother to help him now?

  The war faded around them, the tension in the air rising by degrees as Thorne waited to see what Vail would do.

  He took a step towards Loren and swallowed hard, his hands twitching at his sides, as if he wanted to reach for Loren too.

  “Son of a bitch! Take this you bitches,” a familiar female voice yelled from behind Thorne and a dazzling blast of purple and blue light erupted off to his left.

  Vail’s demeanour instantly changed. He bared his fangs and his eyes went wild, crazed as he swung to face Thorne, looking beyond him to the source of the magical attack.

  Light flickered over his body.

  “Vail!” Loren rushed forwards.

  Vail disappeared.

  Loren snarled and glared beyond Thorne, towards Rosalind where she fought behind him. And what in the gods’ names was she doing out here too?

  “I was so close,” Loren said in a low tight voice and ground his teeth, his nostrils flaring as he narrowed his gaze on Rosalind. “If it was not for that sorceress!”

  Thorne stepped into his line of sight and pressed a hand against his chest, a silent warning not to dare to attack her.

  “She is not to be harmed. She has helped me twice now and I owe her much.”

  Loren drew in a deep breath and blew it out, and then shoved away from him. He stooped to help Olivia onto her feet and Bleu joined them.

  “What did he say?” Olivia asked and Loren’s expression flickered with guilt again.

  He sent his armour away from his hands and gently held her face, inspecting the cut on her forehead and then the gash on her arm.

  “He berated me for leaving your side,” Loren said and shook his head. “I told you to stay inside, Olivia. Why did you come out here?”

  “Rosalind was coming out and I have to be here, I have to help our people.”

  Loren growled. “Rosalind is nothing but a pain to me. She has placed you in danger, and she has driven my brother away. I wish her ill fortune.”

  “Don’t speak like that. She protected me more than once and she’s out here fighting when she’s never taken a life before. She wanted to help. I wanted to help.” Olivia placed her hands over Loren’s, holding them to her face, and looked up into his eyes. “You’re hurt. I can feel it. I hate feeling it.”

  “Do not worry about me, my love. I will heal.”

  She didn’t look as if she believed him. She swept the tangled mess of her dark hair away from the left side of her throat, baring it to Loren.

  “Drink. You need your strength. You need to heal. Don’t give me any bullshit about being fine. I can feel you, Loren.” She dropped her gaze to his side and her eyebrows furrowed as she reached out and touched the deep wound there. Tears lined her lashes and she lifted her eyes back to Loren’s. “Drink. Heal. And then you can be mad at me all you want.”

  Loren’s expression softened and he sighed, gently stroked her cheek and nodded. He lowered his head towards her neck and Thorne looked away, giving them some privacy and making sure no one attacked them while they were vulnerable. He would thank Olivia later. He needed her mate strong and capable, and her observations had been right. He had been weakening because of the wound. Bleu kept his back to them, his spear at the ready and his purple eyes locked on the battle raging around them.

  Thorne reached out with his senses, needing to feel Sable and feel that she was still alive out there, somewhere. He wanted her back in his arms, held close to him as Olivia was to Loren. He wanted to ask Bleu and Loren whether they had seen her but held his tongue.

  Something told him that if Bleu discovered that Sable was injured and he had lost track of her, that Loren wouldn’t be the only mated male receiving harsh words from an elf.

  Loren drew back from Olivia and Bleu turned to face them.

  “Bleu.” Loren didn’t take his eyes off Olivia’s, not even when Bleu halted at his side. “You are to take Olivia back to the castle. Understood?”

  “But—” Olivia started.

  “No!” Loren barked and frowned down at her. “This is no place for you, Olivia. I cannot fight knowing that you are out here. What if Vail had not been watching us? What then?”

  She paled and looked away, tears forming on her lashes. “I would be dead.”

  Loren closed his eyes and pressed his lips to her forehead. “Swear to me you will not leave the castle again.”

  “But Sable… we were separated. I have to find her.”

  “I will find her. I was searching for her when I found you,” Thorne put in and she looked across at him. “Men will be returning to the castle and will need your aid.”

  He knew better than to command her to return. She was like Sable in many respects. He needed to give her reason and a purpose, something to do to help, not order her as Loren did. Although Thorne knew the male only issued those orders to protect her and keep her safe from harm.

  Olivia nodded and Loren slowly released her. He dropped another kiss on her brow and lingered there. For a man who wished his female away from battle, he seemed reluctant to let her go.

  Loren took a step back and Bleu came forwards, took hold of Olivia’s good arm and disappeared with her.

  “I am sorry I could not stop your brother,” Thorne said and picked up his broadsword.

  Loren shook
his head.

  “I fear he is worse now than ever. I have never seen him so far gone, lost to the dark things that haunt him.” Loren stared into the distance, bright colourful flashes reflecting in his violet eyes as the war raged there, the battle intensifying as men fell and fresh soldiers replaced them, boosting the dwindling numbers on both sides.

  Thorne clapped a hand down on his shoulder. “One day you will reach him. I am sure of it.”

  Loren nodded.

  Thorne hoped it would be before Vail succumbed to the madness eating away at him and Loren lost his only kin forever.

  Bleu reappeared beside him, clutching his long double-bladed black spear. “I have left her at the infirmary. Many injured are returning to the castle.”

  Thorne knew what that meant. His already small army was growing ever smaller, weakening his chance to save his kingdom.

  He scanned the battle, picking out the wolves as they bravely fought the bears off to his right, and the elves as they battled the dragons, and Rosalind and a small army of demons as they took on the witches. He could end this fight. He only needed to reach the other side of the battle and the Fifth King, and claim his head.

  A slender female caught his gaze, cutting through the enemy with heart-stopping grace and beautiful determination.

  Sable.

  Thorne teleported in an instant, reappearing close to her side and taking down the demon she had been fighting.

  She turned on him, her blade raised to attack, and froze. “I thought you would be well ahead of me.”

  He huffed. “I felt your pain and came back to find you.”

  She rubbed her side. “Just a few bruises. Hurt like a bitch at the time but I’m good now.”

  “Liar,” Thorne said with a half-smile. He could feel her pain and still knew her fear, and it was unfounded. He wasn’t going to send her away. He was going to keep her pinned to his side throughout the rest of the battle.

  She shrugged and attacked another demon, ducking beneath his swing and slashing across his legs with her blade. Thorne thrust forwards with his broadsword, skewering the male on it, and then yanked his weapon free. The male dropped. Sable rose to her feet.

  “So, what’s the plan?” She casually loosed a dart at another demon and he roared in agony as it exploded on impact, sending him spinning through the air and landing hard on a group of demons.

  Thorne pointed towards the distance.

  “We go there.”

  He grabbed her and teleported before she could utter a word, landing them close to the point he had reached before turning back to find her. Several of his men and some of the elves teleported in beside him and fanned out, taking on the demons and dragons in their way.

  Loren appeared beside him with Bleu. Thorne exchanged a look with him, nodded, and the elves disappeared, reappearing further ahead, sweeping through their enemies with black claws and blades. Some of the elves branched off and followed their prince.

  Grave was already ahead of Thorne, the vampire savaging and brutally killing everything in his path, leaving a trail of bodies in his wake. His red eyes remained constantly pinned on something ahead of him. Thorne looked there and unleashed a growl when he spotted the jagged green helm of the Fifth King.

  Thorne was damned if he would let the vampire reach the Fifth King first.

  Two large tawny wolves rushed past Thorne, mauling the legs of their enemies with their fangs and claws. A pack followed them, streaming through their foes like shadows, moving with speed and agility that Thorne couldn’t contend with. Not without teleporting anyway.

  He grabbed Sable again and dropped into another portal, this one bringing them out in the battle only a few metres from the Fifth King.

  The large demon male lifted his head from the neck of a female hunter and dropped her lifeless body at his feet. Blood rolled down his chin, dripping onto his broad bare chest.

  “You bastard!” Sable hurled herself forwards but Thorne grabbed her arm, yanking her back to him before she could escape his reach and attempt an attack.

  “Thorne,” the male growled, tipping his head in greeting, and grinned.

  “Frayne.” Thorne drew Sable closer to him and the male’s green eyes fell to her and narrowed.

  Loren, Bleu and Grave reached them together with some of their men and his. Kincaid broke through the demons encircling them, his tawny fur bloodied in places and his golden eyes bright. The wolves followed him into the fray, attacking any who tried to close in on Thorne and the Fifth King, keeping them at bay.

  Giving Thorne his chance, one that he was grateful for and prayed to the gods he wouldn’t squander.

  He would not fail his kingdom.

  Not now. Not ever.

  He focused, forcing his wings to shrink into his back, unwilling to give his enemy any advantage.

  “You have an addition to your ranks since we last met. A pretty little one. To the victor go the spoils.” Frayne licked the blood off his lips and raked a gaze over Sable, slowly taking in every inch of her. “I hope she pleases me more than the last huntress I had in my arms.”

  The bastard was keeping to the mortal language to frighten her and it was working. She trembled beneath his grip, her uncertainty and fear trickling through the link between them.

  “Sable,” Thorne said a low voice destined only for her ears and silently spoke the rest of what he needed to tell her as he looked down into her golden-brown eyes. He loved her and he would never allow this wretched male or any other to lay a hand on her.

  Sable drew in a deep breath, exhaled hard and straightened her spine, her fear disappearing. She nodded, her beautiful eyes relaying the feelings that he could sense in her, the love and affection, and the blossoming confidence.

  She slipped her hands beneath her arms, gave him a smile, and then flung her hands towards the Fifth King. The small ringed knives embedded in Frayne’s chest and stomach before he could teleport out of their path. The large demon snarled and his horns flared forwards next to his temples, the painted white tips as sharp as the daggers Sable had launched at him.

  He teleported and Sable was one step ahead of him, rolling forwards and coming to her feet behind Thorne. Thorne swung his blade with all of his might, aiming at thin air. Frayne appeared in its path and snarled as he quickly raised his right forearm. Thorne’s broadsword struck the thick metal and leather vambrace he wore.

  Frayne snarled and swung at him with his own sword, bringing it over his head in a fast arc.

  Thorne shoved Sable back with one hand and shifted his sword in the other, spinning it in his grip so the blade ran up his arm. He went down on one knee and raised his blade, allowing it to land flat along his arm. Frayne’s blade hit hard, showering sparks over Thorne and driving his knee into the dirt.

  He launched upwards, using all of the strength in his legs to propel him and shove Frayne’s sword up into the air. He kicked off the second the blade was above Frayne’s head and barrelled into him, taking him down onto the ground. Frayne roared, his wings twisted beneath him, and grabbed Thorne’s left horn, dragging him down towards him. Thorne grunted as Frayne’s forehead connected with his and pain spider-webbed across his skull.

  Frayne rolled and Thorne wrestled with him, determined to end up on top again, avoiding scrappy punches and trying to land a few of his own as he fought for dominance over the Fifth King.

  A bolt whizzed past Thorne’s head and exploded a short distance away from him.

  Thorne looked across at Sable and growled when he caught sight of her. She fought her blond male hunter, Evan, her hands shaking as she struck his blade with her own and uncertainty flooding the link between them. She wasn’t sure what to do and he could grasp her concern and reluctance to land a killing blow on the man who had once been her second in command.

  But was no longer.

  Evan’s eyes flashed brilliant blue.

  “Rakshasa,” Thorne called and Sable’s fear immediately diminished. She spun her short blade in her hand
so the point was close to her elbow and slashed at the creature who had assumed the form of her friend.

  Frayne sent Thorne’s world spinning with a hard blow on his jaw that snapped his head to one side and Thorne grunted as he ended up on his back, pinned beneath the Fifth King.

  The male grinned down at him, cracking the dried blood caking his chin.

  “I will enjoy your woman and your kingdom, Thorne. I shall take great care of both of them.”

  Thorne roared and bucked up, hurling Frayne off him. Frayne levelled a kick at him and Thorne dropped into the darkness. He fell out of the air above Frayne, hurtling towards the Fifth King.

  Frayne whipped around to face him and disappeared, dropping into his own portal. Thorne hit the ground hard, rolled and found his feet again. He grabbed the nearest weapon as he passed it and sought Frayne. The bastard had yet to appear. Sable fought off to his left, battling hard against the rakshasa. Thorne wanted to join her and make the creature pay for what it had done to Fargus but it was her fight now. The rakshasa had killed her second in command too.

  Pain burst across Thorne’s back and he grunted as he stumbled forwards. He twisted mid-step and raised his blade, knocking away Frayne’s as the male attacked his back.

  Frayne grinned at him and signalled with his free hand.

  Thorne shot forwards and clashed hard with him, knocking the smile off his face as he drove him backwards, towards the centre of the circle expanding around them. He grabbed Frayne’s left wing, pressed his boot into the male’s stomach, and yanked hard. Frayne unleashed an agonised bellow and grasped Thorne’s right arm, digging his long claws in for purchase. He twisted hard, throwing Thorne off balance and tearing a cry from his throat as his muscles protested and Frayne’s claws sliced through his flesh.

  “Bastard,” Sable spat and a dart lodged into Frayne’s right shoulder. “Enjoy that with my compliments, you prick.”

  Frayne snarled, yanked the bolt from his flesh and crushed it in his grip. He turned to advance on Sable and staggered, a confused frown darkening his rugged face.