Sinless Demons: A Forbidden Fated Mates Reverse Harem Series (The Monsters and Miseries Series Book 2)

by A. K. Koonce

“Why do you think she wants to stay?” Damien asks, breaking the quiet as he pulls her closer against his chest.

  He’s still naked. We all are, aside from Zaviar.

  I can’t help but remember how she trembled beneath me. And then how her eyes shined as she looked up at me like she wanted to say something.

  What did she want to say?

  “It’s obvious. She wanted to cum,” Krave says without thought.

  All three of us slowly pan our attention to the incubus trailing his dark, glittering finger across her stomach. Damien is the only one who doesn’t stare at the man like he’s a total idiot. The incubus sketches a glittering heart over her stomach. It’s adorable until he adds an entirely too realistic cock penetrating the heart, turning the soul into a pussy with just a few quick movements of his hand . . .

  She shivers beneath his touch.

  “You’re a fuckin’ dumbass,” Zaviar tells him with absolutely no filter whatsoever.

  Krave sweeps away his drawing and turns to the angel.

  “Why? Because I don’t want to tell you she’s too afraid to change how things are?” Krave cocks a brow at the angel. They stare, slicing deadly daggers at one another.

  And then we’re all speechless.

  “What do you mean?” Damien finally asks him and I see a curiousness in his brown eyes as he looks at Krave. I think it’s the same curiousness he always has when it comes to this demon. He just isn’t hiding it any more.

  Krave lifts his inky fingers and smoke wafts out in thin-lined drawings. A lithe woman in glittering colors fans her dress out as she spins and shields four figures behind her.

  She’s beautiful. The way Krave sees her is different than how she looks. Aries is incredibly sexy, but the elegant lines Krave draws her in is all soft features and innocent eyes.

  He sees her in a different light than the rest of the world does.

  Maybe we all do.

  “It’s apparent, isn’t it?” He cocks his head at me, but I just eye the incubus without a word until he explains further. “She figured out . . . whatever it she was trying to figure out. All the stuff she was working toward, she seemed to get it all sorted. And now she’s hiding us away because the last time she made a big move, it nearly got us killed. It got you three imprisoned. She doesn’t want to risk us. She knows as mates, we’d die for her.” Krave lifts and looks around at the three of us like that should be obvious.

  Fuck. It should be obvious.

  “Well, we can’t stay here. Her father wants an heir in his kingdom. It’s safe for him if Aries is there.” Zaviar rolls his bright eyes, and even in the moonlight, I can see his anger.

  If he fucked her, would it wash away some of that hate? If he got just one thing that he wanted, would it change him?

  Doubtful.

  But judging from how much control he had tonight with her perfect body laid out before him and him still clinging to that restraint, maybe we’ll never know.

  “What do we do now?” Damien asks with his attention held on the woman at his side.

  I’ve never seen someone love anyone so much in so little time.

  Maybe that’s what mating is like, though. I guess that’s what love is like.

  Love is patient.

  It’s fucked up, but it’s patient.

  And that’s the answer here.

  “We wait,” I finally say, settling back against the netting and watching the night pass us by.

  The moon hangs above with white slices of light casting across her features. Quiet snores catch the cool night air, and still I lie there awake, looking at her.

  A beautiful woman is enough to cause so much violence from so many men. And us four, we have too much violence inside of us not to give it all up for her.

  That’s how I know Krave’s right.

  We would die for her.

  16

  Jizz Muffin

  Aries

  The blade cuts into his throat. Sure, it’s wooden, and yeah, it’s just a blunt edge against Damien’s smooth golden skin, but it still makes me feel good to use my skills like I used to.

  “Gods, put some strength into fending her off. Your big muscles look useless right now,” Krave comments as he leans lazily against the training room wall. “Stop letting her win.”

  “I’m fucking notttt,” Damien cuts out on a gargle of words.

  “Oh. Well, in that case, perhaps go a bit easier on the poor guy, love.” Krave’s tone holds a slight worried edge, but the three men watching us never intervene.

  His big hands fumble against my wrists, but he hasn’t said the safe word yet, either, so I keep my weapon in place. My hands hold the sword down firmly in place as his face turns a deeper shade. Almost red. My thighs shift against his smooth ribs and during this intense moment, I almost think about how he felt between my thighs earlier this morning.

  Grinding and thrusting and making me wetter and wetter while the others slept.

  I pull back. Just minimally. Just enough for air to hit his ragged lungs.

  “Don’t,” Ryke warns.

  He’s so war-driven.

  Krave’s pleading me for kindness on his friend while Ryke’s screaming for me to take his head clean off.

  “Don’t let up until he says it,” Ryke instructs.

  He’s right.

  Of course, he’s right.

  Orgasms mean nothing during battle.

  After and before battle are a different story.

  But for now.

  “Just say it,” I whisper, dipping my head low so my words fan against Damien’s parted lips.

  “Fuck, no.” His jaw clenches but heaving breath exhales hard from his nose.

  “Please.” My lower lip juts out as I pout for him while strangling him slowly.

  “No,” Damien says against a rasping cough and a jagged breath.

  My lips press to his, and though he can’t find any air in the room, he still kisses me back. It makes me worried about his insanity that he puts lust above life in this moment.

  “Say the words, Damien.” I arch a brow at him as my lips hover over his.

  His jaw steels once more before he gives in. “Fuck,” he sighs defeatedly. “Jizz Muffin.” The safe words are rasping and crackly, but it still makes Krave and Zaviar laugh.

  Even Ryke smiles.

  Even I smile.

  Victory never sounded so sweet.

  The moment I pull my wooden sword fully away, his fingers tangle through my damp hair, and he pulls me down to him, stealing my mouth for himself the moment I’m close enough. Damien kisses me hard, nipping at my lip, while something hard and telling presses against my core.

  A moan pushes from my mouth at the feel of it, but more thoughts flutter through my mind as well.

  . . . how is it that Krave’s magic can dissolve Corva’s and give Damien back what he lost? Krave’s a demon . . . but his magic isn’t dark and tainted like hers . . .

  How—

  “That’s enough,” a deep voice rumbles.

  A foot presses against my side, and I roll out of Damien’s warm touch as I lie back and stare up at the massive man smirking down on me.

  “He can say he gave it his all, but I know he’d never hurt you. Mate magic is more powerful than anything. Wasn’t a fair fight,” Ryke says with a shake of his head.

  “What do you suggest?” I don’t move. I’m flat on my back, but I’ll know the moment Ryke tries to strike. His muscles are powerful, sure, but they’re telling. They flex and tense when he’s about to go in for a blow. Not only that, but he’s looking at me with too much kindness in his eyes.

  “Fight Zaviar. Fight someone who isn’t a puddle of love at your feet.” Ryke turns to the man with the big pink wings looming over his dark serious features.

  My gaze locks with his and though we haven’t had sex, I can still hear his whispered confession ringing in my ears.

  I love you so fuckin’ much, Aries.

  I shiver in response like I can still feel
his breath against my skin.

  He remains impassive. The deadness in his gaze is still there, and I start to wonder if he even remembers what he said at all.

  Maybe he doesn’t realize it was spoken out loud.

  Maybe I should ignore it.

  Maybe—

  A fiery scent hits the air as sparking white color flashes across the blue mat. And then, a hard wooden sword cuts through the air. It’s aimed straight for my face. I roll from beneath that swinging strike. Zaviar’s teeth are still clenched together hard as I catch my wooden hilt in my hand and roll to a standing position.

  “Still aren’t used to that angel magic, are you?” Zaviar asks with a smirk.

  “You’re cute when you’re mad, Remorseless,” I tell him with my lips quirking at one side.

  He sweeps his blade back and angles it out with a hard blow that hits my weapon with jolting force. That cocky smirk fades from his face.

  “I fuckin’ hate when you call me that.” He seethes, our blades separating our warm breaths that clash together between us. The two of us hold the pose there, neither of us giving in, even as our arms shake.

  “Why. What does it mean? Tell me why you live without regret and without remorse,” I ask, my finger slipping out and skimming quick over the tense muscles of his ribs. It’s the faintest touch of my skin against his slick tattoos. Brief. Less than a second.

  But I see the tremble that shakes through his body as he shoves off from my defense and circles the room to recompose.

  Or to think through his next move.

  Or maybe both.

  His stride wavers with an arrogance of slow pent-up strength and dominance.

  Too bad I can see how pissed off he is over one simple question.

  “Tell me why I’ve been here for five godsdamn days with nothing better to do but watch you fuck my friends—and Krave—”

  “Hey!” Krave answers, as if he’s hurt from the sting of that separation.

  “And I’ll tell you why I hate that name you love so fuckin’ much,” Zav says with his deep blue eyes held hard on me.

  I swallow when I realize what he wants.

  I want more time, though. I want to clear my head. I want to rest before it all comes crashing down all over again.

  My wings spread out wide, and with both hands on my hilt, I bring it downward, fast and spiraling.

  Zaviar dodges the blow. His big arms wrap around me, and he slams me to the soft mat with so much force, my weapon rattles out of my hand. And it doesn’t matter. Because his calloused fingers grip my wrists, and in the span of a single pounding heartbeat, he has my hands held above my head, his piercing eyes slicing right into me.

  “Tell me, Crow,” he demands. His bodyweight presses in to me just right.

  I can’t breathe. I can’t catch my breath, and I can’t think about all the things that are a chaotic swirl within my mind. It’s too much. There’s too much to say that I haven’t said yet.

  “Catherine’s gone,” I blurt. His dark lashes flutter, and his gaze softens as he watches me. “She’s quiet, and she’s emotionless, and I don’t know if I lost her, or if . . .” I choke on those words, but there’s so many more waiting to get out. “I don’t want to murder my father. I want to kill the cruel racist fucking king, but I want to save my father, who sent me away to protect me, and I can’t do both of those things when the two men are one and the same.” Zaviar’s hold on me loosens, but his warm hands never slip away from my arms. His fingers stroke back and forth as a shaking breath storms my lungs and even more words vomit from my mouth. “And I finally have four people who would protect me at all costs, who care about me more than anyone ever has, and I’m so fucking terrified I’ll do to them what I’ve done to my mother. What I’ve done to the Shadow Guard. What I’ve done to myself.” I close my eyes hard before the dampness there trails out.

  Steady fingers push back my hair. My breathing stays reckless even as warm lips press at the corner of my lips. He kisses there before he leans in close, his breath skimming across my neck before he whispers in my ear.

  “I—I hate when you call me Remorseless because ever since I left the gods, I regret so fuckin’ much, it makes me hate myself more and more each day.” His rumbling words are low and filled with . . . remorse. My wet lashes lift, and I lock eyes with deep dark blue ones. “Don’t be like me, Pretty Crow. Don’t regret the things you didn’t do. Don’t hide here and wait for shit to sort itself out. That’s not you.” His gaze slips to my parted lips for a second, filled with tension and heat.

  And then he shoves off of me. He leaves me there on the floor as I stare up at the carved wooden beams of the ceiling above.

  “Am I mistaken, or doesn’t someone have safe words that must be said to end the sparring?” Krave asks quietly as Zaviar shoves open the door.

  The angel glares back at the incubus from over his big pink wings.

  “Fucking Jizz Muffin,” Zaviar grumbles before the door shuts hard behind him.

  The smiles aren’t there this time. Only silence follows.

  A bitter twisting sensation fills my stomach, and it makes me physically sick to think about what he told me.

  And I hate that he’s right.

  17

  The Advisors

  Aries

  The sun burns behind the sharp peaks of the castle rooftops. I feel small at the base of it all, staring up at the smooth brick and inhaling the morning air that’s tinged with red roses and bloody memories.

  “We don’t have to go in, love,” Krave whispers at my side, his fingers lifted, but he never runs his distracting touch along my skin.

  Zaviar clears his throat hard from behind me, but all four of the men just let me keep my quiet. For just a few seconds longer.

  Just a little while.

  “Your father’s looking for you,” a breathless voice calls as Nille runs through the rose garden, his little feet rushing despite how slow the goblin is actually moving. “Your mother said to keep your absence a secret, but your father hasn’t stopped screaming about it for days now.” His big head bobs as the height of the bushes nearly overtakes him.

  “Thank you, Nille,” I call after him.

  A calmer presence steps forward in a deep red gown that matches the feathers that span around her slender frame.

  Nille scuttles to a stop on the dirty brick sidewalk and stares up at his Queen.

  She seems so tall and powerful in comparison to the goblin. She hasn’t seemed that way in my eyes for years.

  The three demons and the angel all shift closer to me. They linger on shifting feet as if my mother alone in her garden is a threat to me.

  “I always told your father you were the good one,” she says on a whisper so quiet, it barely kisses the breeze. “I always reminded him that you were different. That you needed time to grow out of childish thoughts, and I always asked him to show our sweet girl kindness.” She doesn’t look at me as she says it all. “As you grew older, I saw your recklessness, and I thought it made you stronger, even if it was a dangerous trait.” Her eyes close hard, and when she opens them, she’s staring daggers into my soul. “I didn’t know it made you deadly. I didn’t know—” A gasping breath shoves from her lungs. Her emotions snap, and she’s composed so quickly, my trembling heart doesn’t know how to react to my mother, who’s always so calm, it’s hard to process all of this. “I love you, but do not harm him, Ari. Everything that’s ever been cast upon him, all magic good and bad, will be inherited by you. You don’t know what hell he has hanging over his head.” Her eyes hold mine, and I wish like fuck I could tell her that I do.

  I do know what hell is hanging over his head, because that hell has made a home inside my head for the last three fucking years.

  I nod to her slowly, and she simply walks away. I don’t know what I’m nodding about because I honestly can’t agree to what she just asked of me. I can’t say I won’t kill him.

  I can only promise to keep her and this kingdom safe.<
br />
  One way or another.

  Three men file into the room with smiles on their faces for their weekly meeting. Those smiles fall one by one as they each take sight of me sitting in my father’s chair at the far end of the table. I also note the way their attention rakes over the four men standing behind me.

  “Good morning,” I say loudly, chin angling up to meet each of their gawking stares.

  “Where is King Gravier?” Johnn asks, taking the seat on my right-hand side.

  Johnn, my new right-hand man.

  Just the man, I know, who can help all of the pieces fall into place.

  “He told me last week he advised you that I would be filling a few of his less urgent rolls within the castle, Sir Johnn,” I say with a tilt of my head.

  “I—he—I don’t recall that conversation. I’ll have to reassess my notes, I suppose,” Johnn says with flawless recovery. Very well done for a man who wanted to put the blame on his king, which we all know, that is not a thing in these castle walls.

  And that is why it’ll make my plan so easy to shove into place.

  “The King told us you’d run off somewhere during the last six days.” The older gentleman, Waltry, at the end of the table, narrows his eyes on me.

  He’s the oldest of the three men. He’s so old, he was Hyval’s advisor when she was Queen. He’ll either be the hardest to break, or the easiest.

  Depending on how much he fears his mortality. Because he’s seen all of this once before. During my grandmother’s reign.

  Will he stand to see it all again?

  I, too, send him a questioning stare right back as I shake my head slowly.

  “No. I’m sorry. Please allow me to apologize on my father’s behalf. He sent me to ask the King’s Mother about the technique of memory stones. I’m not sure how he wants us to use them, but they are indeed very interesting sources of magic,” I say with forced enthusiasm dripping from my smiling lips.

  Waltry’s gray eyebrows lift as he stares at me as if he’s seen a ghost.