Dev’s eyes narrowed at Krystian’s neck. “You wear my wife’s ring?”
Smirking, Krystian fingered Sveti’s wedding band on the chain around his neck. “Yes, I didn’t notice it until this morning. She refused to give it up. I was going to cut her finger off to teach her a lesson, but alas, I could not make myself mutilate her beauty.” His glance at Sveti showed no remorse.
“However, I might have broken her finger getting it off. Next time she will be more cooperative, eh?” He smiled at her, said silkily, “Won’t you my sweet?”
The guard who had rushed out of the room returned with an armful of chains.
“Chain the demon prince!” Krystian ordered with loud commanding triumph.
The other guards raised their flashguns at both Dev and Bowie.
Dev was shoved roughly to sit on the floor.
As the guards chained him, Krystian explained, “Yeah, I know you are as strong as…the very devil himself, but,” the grin was back, “these are made of a new updated graphene. Atom-thin layers of carbon arranged in a honeycomb pattern making it 500 times stronger than steel by weight. The chains made of this particular metal and along with a spell are indestructible, even you cannot break them.”
The guards finished binding Dev.
Moving away from Sveti and closer to Dev for his taunts, Krystian mocked him, his mean voice dense with enmity, he told the bound prince, “You will be forced to watch me take possession of your…wife,” he snarled the word, “fucking her again and again while caning her in between rapes. You took her from me with a trick, well, now I reclaim what is mine!”
He cast a cruel glance at Sveti weeping and shuddering with pain, bleeding on the divan. “She will rue the day she threw her defiance in my face and let you, a filthy alien hunter fuck her. And you will regret the temerity in coming here thinking you can just waltz into my castle and take her back. Ha!”
His sneer gloating, he said, “Once I make Sveti a widow she will be free to wed me.” Grinning with satisfied glee, he expounded, “And she will bear my children, as many as I can get on her.”
“You are going to die, Ritrova,” Dev said calmly matter-of-fact. His eyes shifted to Sveti and lowered to the bite mark on her breast. Flames sparked around his head as his ebony eyes flashed brilliant white.
Her wrists bound behind her, she struggled to stay upright on the cushions. Lids heavy with fatigue and pain, she was unable to maintain eye contact with her husband.
Moving tauntingly closer to Dev, Krystian tapped his own chin with a finger while speaking, “Big words, nothing to substantiate them, asshole. When Sveti is so…used, she can no longer stand, after I’ve made her observe me torture you, I will force my baby sister to watch you die. And it will be a long, horrible agonizing death, to teach you both your mistake in fucking with me!”
His malicious laughter echoed through the room. Then, his laughter shriveled in his throat, his eyes widened, as he watched Dev jump easily to his feet.
Dev’s powerful chest pumped, his enormous biceps bulged, he slowly straightened his arms, the chains stretching with them. His ominous grin nicked up one corner. “You are correct, you sick fuck, I can’t break these chains, well, I can, but it would take a while, but I can stretch them.”
In front of the stunned audience, Dev’s beast was emerging, he grew taller, broader, his horns, claws and fangs descended and grew.
His voice a roughened growl of the creature he was becoming, he told Krystian, “I allowed you to chain me only to lure you away from my wife so you can’t use her as a shield or injure her further when I come for you.”
Krystian appeared unconcerned. “I have dozens and dozens of guards you freak, you think you can fight them all? Ha!” he spurted, and waved to his men.
Shedding the chains, Dev let them drop to the ground in a clanking clatter around him. He said, “Bowie, get my wife to Protostar and to Geffry, when he declares her well, bring her to Nasitar. Tell Connar, Lukas and Tomi waiting outside to clear any innocents out of the building.”
The soldiers started swarming Dev and Bowie.
Sveti struggled to sit up, get off the couch, but she was too weak, she screamed hoarsely, “Devilos, just run! Bowie, run!”
His brutal gaze lit with frigid emptiness on her, Dev said coldly, “Ah, Wife, you still doubt me. I will see to your penance for disobeying me when I return to Nasitar, for now, Bowie-”
Grinning, Bowie bashed his boot, breaking the knee of the guard beside him and slammed his fist into the jaw of the other one, then he streaked across the room to Sveti.
As Bowie moved, Dev spun into silver whirling dust, an almost invisible tornado spinning around the room slicing and dicing, stabbing his sword, cutting off heads, arms, shoving the blade into bellies.
Krystian stood dismayed at the slaughter of his men.
Dev was nothing but a glinting blur as he killed every guard.
When the last man fell, the blur slowed and Dev became still, morphing into his human form, he was standing a few yards in front of Krystian. He didn’t take his eyes off him as Bowie pulled Sveti through the room, shielding her with his body.
“Devilos, he has,” Sveti rasped painfully, “power. Run, leave me to my doom, he will kill you.” Wrists still restrained behind her, her legs buckled.
Bowie swept her up in his arms and headed for the broken wall of windows. He hesitated, Sveti almost passed out, her head fell to Bowie’s shoulder.
Once again, Dev’s beast willowed and wavered, as a violent swelling vapor the creature spread around him. The vapor, like the shimmering sun in the hazy summer, he transformed into a gigantic demon, a raging fire-spewing dragon.
Most of his human looks were gone, taken over by the bloodcurdling monster.
His beastly mouth snapped open revealing voracious teeth and fangs, huge, razor sharp and gleaming, dripping with poisonous saliva. His arms raised, the claws descended as he roared at Krystian.
But, Krystian was also transforming. His body bulked and grew in height and power, his roar back at Dev indicated he was ready to war.
Fire burst in blazing flames all around them, crawling over the floor to lick at the dead bodies of the guards until they were ashes, and climbing up the walls to the cathedral ceiling to explode out the upper story windows.
“Time to go, sweetie,” Bowie said cheerfully. Holding Sveti tight to his chest, he turned and strolled out of the chamber. Stepping through the open windows he hurried to the ship that waited behind the castle.
“Bowie, no,” she gasped, “you have to help him, Krystian will destroy him, please, Bowie, help him.” Her wrists still chained behind her, straining to not pass out, Sveti struggled in his arms trying to get loose.
“No, honey,” Bowie grinned, walking up the short ramp to enter a ship, “Dev will be fine. You need to trust him. For once.” A smaller ship sat at the ready next to the airship.
Inside the aircraft, Bowie set her on a cushioned chair then broke the chains with his sword and belted her in before she could get up.
She fought to get out of the safety bands, but she was too weak, too broken, too feeble to unhook them.
Bowie jumped in the captain’s chair and buckled in while hitting switches and swiping digital pads.
The door to the ramp raised and clamped shut.
The engines ignited and they were gone like a spark from a star.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Broken bones, lacerations, and internal damage, it took months for Sveti to heal and finally able to get on her feet.
Bowie had visited her that morning and Geffry deemed her well enough to travel. It was time for them to head to Nasitar.
Now, aboard an airjet, a burr of trepidation churned in her stomach as she stood by the window on the bridge watching the Milky Way streak by.
Every one of the crew was polite, yet remote to her. She had left Devilos, her husband, their principé, their captain, leader, sire, to some their master, to others a friend.
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He had been the devil to be around after she had gone to trade herself for Ryen.
Unrestrained rage fueled him, temper gone wild he pounded his fists through walls, got drunk and into brawls while he had waited for his ship to be repaired to go retrieve his wife.
The people felt for his wrath, his hurt, his fear, but they stayed the hell out of his way.
Only Dev’s close team was kind to her. They knew she had left him to sacrifice herself for her friend. She’d been told Ryen was safe and well, back home with his family. No one had given her any word about Dev.
She didn’t know if he was dead, or injured, dying, when she asked, people averted their gazes and didn’t answer her. Well, she thought, if he was alive, he would be burning with rage at her.
Rubbing the goose bumps on her arms, Sveti shivered. He had promised punitive action. Would he be any better, any worse than Krystian had been? Did she get tossed from the frying pan into the fire?
She had seen Dev’s full beast in action, she had never experienced anything more bone-chilling terrifying in her life. Would he unleash the monster on her? Tear her to pieces with his teeth and claws?
“Buckle up, honey,” Bowie said with an amiable order, “we are about to land.”
Settling into her seat, nerves struck her, shaking every chilled bone in her body. She had never been to Nasitar, few outsiders have. They were a secretive, mysterious race.
She pictured the planet being starkly black, obsidian like Devilos’ cold eyes. An apocalypse ruin overrun with vicious human-like creatures with horns and fangs tearing the throats out of each other.
A land of no safety, no peace, a dark place of constant battling amongst the dirty remnants of demolished buildings. No light, no flowers, no beauty, just a frigid lightless shell, with her infuriated demon husband at the helm.
She tried to take deep, calming breaths, but her body shook like a leaf.
Bowie landed the ship perfectly, smooth as silk, not a bump. He shut the ship down and then let Lukas and Connar take over the closing up and seeing to the crew leaving.
He unbuckled his belt and came to Sveti who was sitting still as a rock, her fingers twined, skin pinched white.
“Come on, sweetie, time to beard the lion.”
“I take it he’s alive? No one would tell me.”
“Ah, aye he is. He had business to clear up here before sending for you. You were too ill to travel as you know, and he was out of the galaxy on a mission that needed to be completed before hundreds of innocent people were killed, that’s why he didn’t come to see you.”
The relief that he was all right streamed over her in a warm wave, then the rigidity and shaking came back, she knew he undoubtedly hated her now. “Is he furious with me?”
“Uh, well,” Bowie evaded the question, “let’s just get going, come on.” He unbuckled her belt for her and helped her up then led her trembling body out of the ship.
“Oh…my, Bowie,” she gushed in awe as she stepped outside, “it’s…breathtaking.” Her eyes like huge blue saucers, Sveti looked around with her mouth open.
The land was a dark golden swath that rolled on softly forever. Gigantic, dazzling flowers of hues Sveti had never seen, flowed and fluttered over the gold. But she did recognize the spreading shrub of oval leaves with fragrant pink and purple flowers, the graceful honey myrtle, and the vivid red blooms of the rock rose.
The sky was the palest, pastel lilac. Homes like shining jewels scattered over the panoramic land in clustered knots, tucked in and around broad trees with umbrella branches that were covered in tiny sparkling leaves.
The ship had landed in front of a palace.
It was many stories high, but the levels weren’t cut in geometric squares, but more of a saffron serpentine that rolled in waves up higher and higher. Numerous gilded towers jutted gently around the structure.
She could see several suns and numerous moons, blue spheres suspended in the amethyst sky.
In awe, Sveti soaked in the planet all shades of lush, of bright and soft pastels, vibrant colors, and calming dusty blues and searing greens. The polar opposite of what she had expected.
A feeling of peace and welcoming overwhelmed Sveti, until, she remembered her demon husband, beyond enraged with her was waiting inside to punish her for her deed.
Her sigh brief as she bucked up her inner strength, her life seemed to be a series of men that wanted to penalize her with physical abuse. Devilos likely didn’t actually rescue her, more like cold-bloodedly reclaimed his property.
Bowie cupped her elbow to lead her, steady her, keep her from running away in a frightened panic.
Magnificent doors of ivory and gold slid open and they passed through into the majestic glimmering castle.
Servants and lieutenants lined the creamy atrium illuminated with vaulted ceilings, embellished with dramatic, red-rimmed windows way up high.
Reminiscent of running the gauntlet, every head was bowed, no one made eye contact with her.
Sveti felt part relief she didn’t have to face their resentment, but panicked that they knew what hell she faced and didn’t want her to see it in their eyes.
Bowie brought her into the throne room. Emerald and gold, the resplendent gallery was a sea of more people and officers.
Sveti swallowed her terror as the teeming crowd swelled then separated for them to cross the room. The long skirt of her gown brushed the emerald marble floor that was so polished everything reflected off it like a blurry colorful Renoir painting.
Sveti chose her outfit not for the pretty foil it made for her brilliant hair, but because the blouse that matched the ice-teal skirt with seashell stripes, had big round white buttons that went all the way to her throat, and she had every one of them closed.
Unfortunately, the clothes had been provided for her, the top was snug, hugging her plump breasts where she would have preferred to hide her figure as much as possible.
She knew Devilos would be incensed with her, but she didn’t want him to also be sexually inflamed. He wouldn’t be beyond taking her, forcefully, violently brutal to punish her.
At the thought, petrified shivers rolled up her arms and across her shoulders. What if he took her as the colossal beast? He would shred her apart from the inside out.
“Sveti,” a voice whispered as they reached the end of the gallery.
Her head whipped around. “Daddy?”
Her parents and little brother Samson were there along with Ryen. Their smiles of love were laced with fear, for her.
Her father whispered in horrified awe, “He burned Krystian’s entire compound and lands to the ground without so much as striking a match.”
“Svetiessa.”
The familiar deep, rough voice beckoned her with its glacial chill. Icy fingers trickled down her spine. Turning around slowly, she looked up.
There was no love, compassion, desire for her in Devilos’ empty eyes of cold cinders. He sat upon a throne on a dais bordered by his consorts.
He looked every inch the imperial principé. Hair loose, not bound in the warrior braids, he was dressed in royal blue and violet, his enlarged horns were out and pointed and full of wrath, claws digging into the arms of the majestic throne did not bear good will for Sveti.
Fearing for the safety of her family, Sveti sank to her knees and bowed her head.
“Prințesă, stand up,” his command devoid of warmth.
Raising her head but keeping her eyes lowered she plead, “Sire, please, do what you will with me, but I beg the lives of my family and Ryen.” She didn’t see Dev’s glaring nod to Bowie beside her.
Bowie silently grasped her arm and gently pulled her to her feet.
“Bring her to me, Lieutenant,” Dev’s growl boded profound danger.
Bowie nudged her, but Sveti didn’t move. He had to tug her forward, the blood rushing into her head deafened her to the cries of her family pleading for her life. Bowie brought her up the steps of the dais to stand before the Princ
ipé of Darkness.
When she lifted her long lashes to look up at the throne, she physically felt the fury radiating off her husband, but his rich prismatic eyes remained barren.
Still clasping her arm, Bowie watched his friend.
Although no one else could read him, Bowie could see Dev’s arms twitch, itching to steal around his estranged wife, desiring to hold her so hard against him she would cry to breathe, beg for mercy, sob for forgiveness, plea for his embrace.
But resisting the impulse, Dev nodded imperceptibly at him. With a tight smile, Bowie released Sveti.
Without his support she swayed backwards in her stark fear. Bowie quickly pressed his hand to her back to steady her, then dropped his hand and stepped away from her.
The room was dead silent.
“Get on my lap.” The harsh order surprised everyone. He still clutched the ends of the chair arms with his claws, knees spread, he glowered down at her.
Her eyes flew up to the principé. Still, his iron-angled face revealed nothing, eyes unreadable as black ice. Her feet glued to the floor, Sveti wondered, was her husband going to rape her in front of the filled room, in front of her family, his lieutenants?
Was he going to mock his prior words of how he wanted their marriage to be real? He had said he wanted her to sit on his lap in lovers’ coziness while he felt her up, but the outrage in his eyes swore he planned more, so much more than that.
“Now.” His voice so deep, dark, cold, not one civilian in the room did not shiver.
Dev’s brow slashed down at Sveti’s father’s protest, forbidding any interference.
Sveti jerked her brain to obey, forced herself to move forward until she was upon him. She hesitated unsure of how she was to climb up onto his lap. He was a big man on a big throne, and she was as petite as ever.
Dev bent towards her, she put her hands on his knees to brace, he gripped her upper arms and helped her climb up.
She sat rigidly on his lap, her long gown covered half his legs, his arm was a steel band around her, his hard hand curled around her hip. The vast hall reeked of fear and deadly silence.
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