Kiss of a Demon King

Maybe, but the fact remained that it was a possibility. Right now, it was the only one that seemed viable.

He was still in disbelief that she possibly was his. The Accession often brought pairs together, seeding fami­ lies. He'd secretly entertained the faintest hope that maybe he could find his other half during this one. Over the years, he'd fantasized about his female constantly, wondering if she'd have a throaty laugh. Smooth skin. A body he could lose himself in.

Rydstrom struggled to recall a single thing he'd change about Sabine physically. Her skin was glowing, her cheeks rosy. Her glossy hair had shone in the fire­light. Not a single mark marred her skin.

When her eyes had shimmered a bright metallic blue with her desire ... she couldn't feign that. Nor her

body's reaction. Her sex had been wet, the soft lips bare. His claws sank into his palms.

After the last few weeks, this was just fuel on a blaze. There were too many conflicts within him. His mind simply didn't work like this. Usually potential decisions unfurled in precise tree diagrams, with clear choices and predicted outcomes. Normally, he was rational, and liked things straightforward, needed them to be so.

Yet now little was as it seemed, or if it was, it was utterly wrong. He had returned home but as a prisoner. He might have found his fated queen, but she was con­niving, cutthroat, and amoral. Until he could escape, his fate and the fate of his people rested in Cadeon's hands-and that was a tenuous position to be in.

Especially now, when Cadeon had with him the woman he'd once drunkenly called 'the highlight of my existence.'

Rydstrom had been there the first time Cadeon had seen Holly Ashwin, and he had sensed an energy between them. Yet Cadeon had been unable to attempt her because he'd thought she was a human.

Now Cadeon had learned Holly was actually a Valky­rie. So nothing stood in Cadeon's way of having her.

How could Rydstrom expect his brother to not only deny himself his female but also to turn her over to Groot, a psychotic murderer who only wanted to breed with her?

The last time the kingdom had needed him, Cadeon had turned his back on Rydstrom and their family. Why would this time be any different?

Thinking of Cadeon and Holly made another suspi­cion creep over him. The two of them were complete opposites. Cadeon, a slob and a cold-hearted mercenary, had found his woman in a glasses-wearing, genius math­ ematician with a fixation on cleaning.

The obsessive-compulsive scholar and the rolling-stone soldier of fortune. A completely unexpected and absurd pairing.

Rydstrom was known as upstanding and good, Sabine as treacherous and evil. It didn't seem to matter. He couldn't ignore how his body had reacted to the sor­ceress. Instinctively he knew that should he sink into her, the seal would be broken. He would at last know the feeling of releasing his seed, and would be able to forever after.

Recently, he'd consulted the soothsayer Nïx about his future. She'd replied with a grin, 'It's a doozy.' She'd seemed secretly amused, as if from some kind of irony.

Nothing could be more ironic than Sabine being Rydstrom's queen. This situation was precisely what Nïx would find amusing. The Valkyrie worshipped fate like a religion.

And they were the first to admit that fate was a fickle bitch.

I can deny it. . . .

The cell door groaned open and servants entered. 'We're to get you ready for this eve.' Again powder stung his eyes.

8

When Sabine shot awake, she found her bed was sitting in the pouring rain and muddy field she'd been buried alive in all those years ago.

She blinked her eyes, realizing this was a chimera scene from a dream. She'd always cast illusions when dreaming or in the grip of a nightmare. As she absently ran her fingers over the scar at her neck, the illusion faded, her bedroom revealed again. . ..

This tower room was once supposed to have been the private chambers of Rydstrom. It was in the west tower, the one closest to the water, and had wall-size windows that she kept open to the ocean breezes. She'd redeco­rated it with flowing banners in scarlet and black that whipped in the wind.

She knew going back to sleep would be impossible, since she'd scarcely managed to drift off the first time-

'You didn't dream of your prisoner,' a voice intoned from the shadows of her chamber.

She jerked back to the headboard when she spied Omort's yellow eyes glowing in the darkness.

After hastily covering her scanty nightgown with an illusion, she made the room appear to blaze with fluo­ rescent light.

This was why she could never sleep through a night. Omort could have bound her wrists behind her back, a simple move that would have blocked her ability to cast illusions-her only defense. 'You've crossed a line by coming into my room, brother.'

'Wasn't that just a matter of formality? One soon to be done away with?' He was sending his mental probes out like sonar, but she'd learned to block them com-pletely. He often demanded others open their minds to him, but never Sabine-as if, deep down, he didn't really want to know her feelings about him.

'What does that mean?'

'With Rydstrom's capture, we are one step closer to ... the inevitable.'

How much longer can I put Omort off? His trespass in her room boded ill. Once she surrendered her virginity to the demon and bore the child, she would have no sanctuary to protect her. She hadn't thought he'd be waiting like a vulture, especially not with Hettiah to tide him over.

When he approached the bed, she kept her demeanor composed. Barely. 'What do you want?'

'Your covenant is still intact on the east wall. It doesn't go well with your captive?'

'He is as determined and strong-willed as you said.'

'Maybe I should go see-'

'No! That's not possible. He doesn't need to be reminded of our connection,' she said, then hastily asked, 'How goes the search for an oracle?' They were caught in a vicious cycle, locating weaker and weaker soothsayers. Each one invariably made mistakes and was executed. Then an even weaker oracle replaced the dead one. 'Finding any talent?'

He gave her a look that let her know he'd allowed the change of subject. 'I've selected one and dispatched fire demons to collect her.'

To collect her. Oracle Three Fifty-Six had been a volun­teer instead of an 'acquisition' of Omort's. Some females stepped up for the position, no doubt thinking they'd be smarter, better, less expendable. They never were.

'It's critical that we have one in place as soon as pos­sible,' she said in a measured tone. Sabine had to tread carefully with this subject, for it was a potentially enrag­ing one for Omort.

He'd once stolen the gift of foresight from an oracle'but had no talent for interpreting the visions he received. It had made him even more deranged before he'd been forced to relinquish the ability.

'And we shall,' he said absently as he crept around her room, inspecting her things, pausing to pick up a book here and there. Hundreds were stacked all over. Most were histories of this kingdom, of Rydstrom. She'd been studying him for years.

'I hadn't known you were so well versed on my enemy.'

'I take this seriously-my opportunity to garner power for the Pravus.'

'Yes, I have studied him much as well. Rydstrom has long fascinated me.' He carelessly flipped through an ancient tome, then tossed it away. 'Does he believe you're his?'