Midnight Flame and Crowns : a Shifter and Demon Fantasy Romance Boxed Set

by Meg Xuemei X

  “You’re shrewd, Princess,” Eye-patch said. “But the High Prince has his hands full with his twins at the moment. His half-bred brats give him more trouble than the whole Fey nation.”

  “Then he’ll want the streets to be clean of any vermin,” I said. “I should give him a call. An Earth citizen should always do her duty.”

  “I doubt he’ll be nicer to you than to me if he knows who you are,” said Eye-patch.

  “The princess might have the pulse power,” chimed in a platinum-haired Angel, who guarded the north end of the alley.

  “What pulse power?” Eye-patch asked, his eye staying on me.

  “If you touch her, she pulses and kills,” the platinum-haired Angel said. “His High Lord has it and can kill at will. Perhaps that’s how she killed Ullrik and Zeno.”

  “We shall not touch her bare skin,” the other Angel added his unworthy opinion. “She removed all of her clothing in order to murder us in cold blood.”

  “Activate your armor and grab her,” Eye-patch ordered.

  I bent my knees and doubled over, pretending to laugh at their ridiculous theory, only to leap toward Eye-patch like a flash before he could finish his sentence. I didn’t inherit wings from my Angel side, but I could jump higher than any earthling.

  I could have leapt onto the guardian’s back easily each time, but I’d held back, not wanting Ares to learn about my strengths or weaknesses.

  Eye-patch saw me coming and surged up.

  I grabbed his left foot, though I had aimed for his neck. My other hand dragged down his trousers. If I could get an inch of his bare skin, I would make sure he stayed dead this time. As his trousers came down, his foot booted my head with a savage force. If I were a complete human, that kick would have broken my skull.

  No mortals could sustain an Angel’s strike.

  My head didn’t crack, but pain exploded inside.

  I loosened my grip on Eye-patch.

  As I fell, I spun in the air and threw myself at the closest Angel below. He hadn’t expected my move. I always had tricks in my arsenal. I landed on his wings, grabbed his platinum hair, and shoved my hand to his neck.

  He went down with a scream, his sword flying from him. The other Angel in the alley charged toward me, his blade thrusting at me while I still perched on his pal’s back.

  I twisted my torso and watched helplessly as the cold blade came not toward my heart but my shoulder. He planned to incapacitate me and then capture me. I couldn’t avoid that thrust, but I would have the narrow window to slash my own throat before the angelblade went through me.

  Whatever hideous plan my evil grandfather had for me, he could kiss its ugly butt goodbye. My corpse wouldn’t do him any good. Let him hole up in his dark lair for eternity.

  I drew out an angelblade strapped on my victim’s thigh while he shrieked in agony. He had to suffer my burn for a few more seconds.

  The Angel’s blade punctured my skin. Just as I propelled my body forward toward its hilt to reach my enemy’s hand and give it a fine, final death touch, an enraged roar thundered beside me, “You won’t touch her!”

  A white flash slammed up against the Angel’s sword that pricked beneath my shoulder blade. I pulled backwards at once, away from the crossing blades, and jumped up with the angelblade in my hand.

  I thought I would never see Prince Darken again in my life, and there he was—attacking the Angel like a mad dog. The kind of brutality he exuded wasn’t suited for a faint-hearted.

  What was he doing here? Why wasn’t he with his precious witch? I’d left him gawking at the noblewoman. She’d gazed up at him with white-hot desire and laid her elegant hand on his muscled arm to claim him.

  I’d believed they’d go fuck each other’s brains out after that, and my heart had bled at the mere thought.

  But he was here, defending me.

  Though my heart leapt with joy at the sight of him, I wondered why he’d left his witch so soon. He’d finally gotten what he’d wanted—the First Witch. She was a fake, but he wasn’t aware of it. How could he have the strength to leave her behind and come for me?

  His lips curled away from his teeth, which lengthened to fangs. Earth! I widened my eyes as he grew a foot taller. His physique broadened. His features changed to something more akin to a ferocious beast than that of a man.

  I didn’t allow myself to be mesmerized by his transformation. I needed to focus on taking down Eye-patch and keep Ares from getting killed.

  That had been taken care of when thunderous roars announced the arrival of the guardians.

  Ventus and Ignis tore into Eye-patch from the opposite direction, their jaws wide open and their iron fangs sharpened.

  Their rapid movements blurred into one giant form as they fought.

  However, the blur evened out when battle-hardened Eye-patch showed his deviousness. He shot out between the guardians and they crashed into each other. Ignis roared in pain and shot a mouthful of fire toward his foe, but Eye-patch’s armor absorbed it.

  Blood spattered on my face from the sky, and it wasn’t the Angel’s.

  “Take me up!” I shouted. I could stand on a guardian’s back and aide them.

  Massive wings flapped rapidly toward us. Glacies and Mettalum bellowed their battle cries as they charged at Eye-patch.

  Eye-patch tossed an angelblade at Glacies’ head. Glacies reared down and the blade narrowly missed his neck, plunging into his shoulder instead. Glacies growled in fury, turned, and slammed into Eye-patch.

  I had to leave the four guardians to bring him down. I needed to aid Ares with his fight against the Angel on the ground.

  Ares’ blade drew blood from the Angel, but his opponent sliced his leg. If I could get behind the Angel’s back, we could sandwich him.

  I could leap and land behind him, but it would end badly for me if he suddenly flew up and snatched me. I was willing to take the risk, though. I hated seeing Ares injured and bleeding.

  I ran a few yards backwards. Before I could launch into a leap, Einarr emerged from the other end of the alley and lunged at the attacking Angel.

  The Angel wheeled, hacking left and right to fend off Ares and Einarr. While the two warriors were thrown off by his sudden burst of force, the Angel shot up to the sky.

  Mettalum emerged right above him, opened his massive mouth, and closed on the Angel’s neck. The Angel thrashed about in Mettalum’s jaw, trying to break from his grip as he brought his sword up to hack at the beast.

  Earthling weapons couldn’t harm an Angel. An earthling creature couldn’t end the superior alien with a bite either. Ares leapt up, raised his angelblade, and sank it into the Angel’s heart.

  The Angel went limp and dropped his sword.

  Eye-patch sent me a vengeful smile before he sped upward and fled, faster than a streak of lightning. Three of the guardians gave a chase. In a blink they were gone.

  “I’ve flushed you out, Princess,” Eye-patch’s sinister voice reached me from distant somewhere. “We’ve got your blood imprint. The High Lord’s army will come for you. We’ll never cease hunting you until he has you. When I return, I’ll gut your Dragonian hybrid in front of you. That’s my promise to you for taking my eye out, Princess.”

  I couldn’t help but trembled at the threat.

  CHAPTER 2

  Dark Lord

  I’d obtained the horrific truth after touching the platinum-haired Angel, who had a direct link to his master. I wondered if Atlas—the Dark Lord of All Angels—had felt his vessel’s agonizing death through the connection.

  Atlas’ legion had one urgent mission: hunt me down and ship me to him, so he could harvest my power to resurrect himself.

  In the Angel war two decades ago, even after the High Prince’s Sky Power and his Fey mate’s Earth Magic had shattered Atlas’ essence and ripped his immense power off him, the ex-ruler of the universe had survived, though not in one piece. A fragment of his power had wandered above Earth’s atmosphere and found the Dark Lord’s n
ew bloodline. That power had targeted me, embedding itself into the fetus growing in my mother’s belly before Atlas had vanished.

  And now he wanted it back. He wanted the entity of darkness I’d caged at the bottom of an ice lake deep within me. Though it was locked away, it had become part of me.

  If Atlas took it back, I would die.

  He wouldn’t give a damn about that. His army was more than desperate to help restore him. They wanted to reclaim the universe. They wanted to be the conquerors every species feared and worshipped. Their High Prince, who was now the most powerful Angel, didn’t have the ambition to rule the cosmos. All he wanted was to be with his Fey mate in her Twilight Realm on Earth.

  I was supposed to be the first lamb on the altar; my blood and magic would return my grandfather to his lost glory.

  He discreetly dispatched his scouts to hunt me down, for fear of alarming the High Prince. But now that he’d seen me through the link, he wouldn’t hesitate to send a legion after me.

  They would come through the portal, endless streams of them. How soon would the first fleet reach Earth?

  If High Prince Seth learned about this, he’d come out of the Twilight Realm to kill me before his father could harvest my dark soul to fuel his power. It was better to die at my uncle’s hands than be drained by my grandfather.

  I would strike a deal with the High Prince before I went down. His mate owed my mother a life debt, and I knew she would pay it back.

  Hadn’t I said if I had to go down, I would go down in style?

  I could leave behind a legacy as the girl who prevented the ultimate evil from returning—not that I cared much about my legacy, but this planet also belonged to my pack.

  So I’d stick to my decision to go to Mysth, where I had a better chance to fend off Atlas. I needed to hurry before the legion managed to get to me first.

  I’d seen the Dark Lord as he’d seen me. If he became complete and gathered all of his essence, he would be as powerful as before, if not more. He would blanket the universe with his foul darkness.

  Cold washed over me, and it wasn’t because I was naked.

  My teeth clattered violently as I went to fetch my clothing.

  Ares reached me while I trembled so hard I couldn’t get a foot into my panties. He went down on one knee, placed me on his lap, and helped me pull up my undergarment.

  Lucas leapt from Ignis and landed near me. Rage and worry distorted his boyishly handsome face. He rushed toward me. Ares could touch me, but the shifter would end up dead.

  Lucas fetched my cloak.

  “Don’t touch me!” I cried, a bit harsher than I intended.

  He froze, hurt flashing through his warm, brown eyes.

  “I won’t touch you,” he said. “I’ll only cover you.”

  Ares cut Lucas a glare and yanked my cloak from his hand.

  “My skin is bad for you,” I told the shifter in a shivering voice, but he didn’t buy it as he looked at me then at Ares.

  “The prince will have to wash the toxins off his hands,” I said. “I don’t want you or anyone else to be contaminated.”

  “I wouldn’t mind,” Lucas said softly.

  “I don’t want to harm you,” I said.

  “Return to Ignis and stay on guard, Lucas,” Ares ordered in a hard tone as he moved my hand into my cloak’s sleeves and tied it around me. “The Angels might return with greater numbers.”

  Looking dejected, Lucas mounted Ignis.

  As soon as I was fully dressed, Ares rose, pulled me up, and crashed me against his chest so tightly I could barely breathe. Somehow, his solid warmth and scent solaced me. I grabbed the front of his coat and clung to him, afraid darkness would suck me into its hole and transport me to the most evil being if I let go of the Dragonian warrior.

  Ares had been in the grip of rage, but now he trembled in fear. “I almost lost you, Freyja,” he said in a ragged breath. I’d never seen him so vulnerable.

  If he’d been two seconds late, the Angels would have gotten me. They’d have carried my corpse to Atlas.

  I sniffed against his shoulder, grateful at my narrow escape. “Thank you.”

  “I won’t let them have you,” he said fiercely, his hand in my tangled flaming hair, trying to smoothen it. “I won’t let them near you again. I won’t let anyone harm you.”

  He’d heard Eye-patch’s threat.

  My immortal enemies would hunt me to the end of the universe, and no mortal army on Earth could fight off the Angel horde.

  But Ares’ vow stopped me from shivering.

  “The horde will come for me,” I said.

  “I’ll cut all of them down!” Ares snarled.

  “You’re better off leaving me here,” I said. “I won’t blame you.”

  “Never,” he said. “Never leave you.”

  “What about your witch?” I asked, suddenly remembering the noblewoman. “Where is she?”

  Ares gave me a withering look, despite that a moment ago he’d been fiercely protective and almost tender toward me.

  “Look at this Angel, Ares,” Einarr called from a few yards away.

  Oh, crap!

  In my distraught, I’d totally forgotten about the Angel that I’d burned to death. I should have turned him around and laid him face down before I’d left his corpse. It was too late now to cover the Angel’s gray, cracked skin.

  Ares turned his head and fixed his eyes on the Angel’s body. Two trails of smoke wafted from the Angel’s blackened eye. It was creepy.

  I untangled myself from Ares’ hold and followed him to the Angel’s side, staring down at the corpse and trying to think of a good explanation for the phenomenon.

  “He died just like—” Ares stopped and looked at me, his puzzled expression turning grim, then unreadable.

  He’d seen the same features on the Dragonian and the human raiders whom I’d killed in the forest on our first day together. He hadn’t registered how strange it was that I’d perched atop an Angel, completely naked and clutching the alien’s face in my hands when he’d rushed to my rescue. He hadn’t cared about the Angel’s screams of agony until now.

  The prince’s eyes drifted to my gloved hands.

  He was piecing everything together. And this time, I couldn’t credit the kill to Goddess Rhea.

  “Freyja,” he started.

  I stared back at him blankly, holding an angelblade.

  Before I could back myself to the stone wall, Ventus, Glacies, and Mettalum returned with roars, wind, and flapping wings.

  “We lost the Angel,” Ventus cursed.

  “Let’s move out before he brings more of his kind,” Ares ordered.

  Strangely, no one in the market place seemed to realize there had been a raging battle around. It was as if the alley was a dead zone.

  CHAPTER 3

  The Prince

  We left the city of Amathus and headed south.

  I sat in front of Ares on Ventus’ back. We were both silent, but Ares hadn’t removed his arm from around my waist. I slouched against him, the side of my face pressing on his sculpted chest.

  I needed the haven of his warmth, though I dreaded the questions he was going to ask.

  The guardians were still thrilled from battling with the Angels. Ares and his team couldn’t hear their telepathic chats, but I heard everything loud and clear.

  The Angel was strong and fast, Ventus said.

  When he comes back, Glacies snarled, his ass is mine.

  Any wound from an angelblade was hard to heal and I was sure Glacies’ shoulder was searing with pain. If he were an ordinary beast, he’d be dead by now.

  They marked the witchling, Ignis said.

  We’ll defend her, Mettalum said.

  I’d thought he wasn’t happy with me after I’d called him Metty.

  That Angel wore an eye-patch because of our witchling, Ignis said. She stabbed him. Wake her up, Ventus. I want to know the details.

  Freyja? Ventus called in my head.

&nb
sp; I ignored him. I wasn’t in a high spirit as he was. Plus, I didn’t want Ares’ attention on me.

  “Freyja, wake up!” Ventus shouted. “I have a question.”

  Ares growled. “Leave her alone, Ventus. She needs rest. When we get to a safer location, Einarr will take care of her and check on you all again.”

  The tip of the angelblade had pierced my skin under my shoulder blade. Einarr had tried to tend to me, but I’d refused to let him touch me. I’d also refused to let Ares inject the serum into me.

  “We need to treat your injury,” Ares had said. “The wound from an angelblade is the worst case.”

  “It’s only a graze,” I had said.

  “Even a graze from their blade will cause a serious infection on a mortal.”

  “The serum won’t work on me. It’ll mess me up.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I learned that when I was a child,” I’d said. “Any drug will do me more harm than good.” At his worried expression, I’d added, “It’ll heal on its own.”

  He had simply cleaned me and bandaged me. “We’ll need to monitor you. If you run a fever—”

  “There will be no fever,” I’d cut him off. “And I don’t need a nursemaid.”

  He hadn’t insisted on getting his way. Though from his dark look, I knew he had simmering questions for me. He hadn’t pushed, but had put me in front of him on Ventus. His arm hadn’t left my waist ever since.

  After a couple of hours of quiet flying, my body relaxed a fraction.

  Ares definitely noticed I was less clingy.

  I could feel the questions burning on the tip of his tongue, and I had a few of my own burning hot. Most of them concerned the lovely noblewoman.

  “Feeling better?” he asked.

  “Uh,” I said vaguely.

  “Are you scared of me?” he asked.

  I gave him a sidelong glance. “Why must I be afraid of you?”

  “You saw my beast form. No other women have ever seen it.”

  “I’ve seen worse monsters, Ares.”

  He didn’t seem happy with the answer. “You compare me to those monsters?”