Now, Bleu suspected the change in attitude had little to do with the impending war and a lot to do with Bleu’s newly mated status.
It seemed Grave wasn’t the only male with a chip on his shoulder about a female.
Bleu looked back at Taryn and caught her glaring in Tegan’s direction, her eyes bright violet and shimmering like fire. His fierce little dragon. The sight of her warmed his heart. She had noticed the hostility between him and the demon king, and she wanted to put the bigger male in his place.
He stared at her as he strode towards her and her glare slowly faded, her eyes drifting back to him and that pretty blush rising onto her cheeks again.
“How are prepara—”
Bleu cut her off, sweeping her into his arms and claiming her mouth. She stiffened, moaned and wrapped her arms around his neck. The tension melted from her as she kissed him, and his faded too, purged by the feel of her in his arms, her body pressed against his and their mouths fused. Gods, she felt perfect against him.
She kissed him deeper, stroked her tongue along his, teased his emerging fangs, and then broke away, breathless. Her wicked smile sent heat shooting straight to his cock and the way she seized his hand had him forgetting his duties and all too eager to go along with whatever his mate wanted.
Because it looked as if she wanted him.
She tugged him towards the far side of the courtyard.
Towards where it was quiet.
Bleu growled low in his throat, pulled her back into his arms and went to sweep her up into them so he could teleport them both there.
A horn sounded.
He cursed in the elf tongue.
Taryn muttered, “Fuck.”
He almost grinned at that. She was certainly embracing the one mortal swearword she knew. He was tempted to teach her others once the battle was over and their forever began, because there was something charming about the words when she said them, so out of place in amidst her formal way of speaking that it tickled him.
Bleu set her down and away from him, and forced himself to turn back, towards the gathering army that filled the courtyard of the garrison. A wall of bare muscular backs stood between him and the point where Loren stood on the broad stone stairs that led up to the walls, a mixture of demons from three separate kingdoms.
He sighed, cursed the gods for their timing, and her brother for interrupting them. If he had needed a reason to kill Tenak, the male had just given him one.
Taryn’s fingers slipped between his and he looked down at their joined hands, and then up into her eyes. They told him everything—how much she loved him, how fiercely she needed him, but also every fear that filled her heart.
It was time.
Bleu didn’t want his mate to hurt, but he also knew nothing he could do would end her pain. All he could do was remain close to her during the battle, offering her his support and his love as she fought her own flesh and blood with the intent of killing him.
Tenak’s death would spare all of Hell from suffering at his hands, but it wouldn’t spare Taryn. It would deal a blow to her that would be every ounce of pain everyone would have experienced at her brother’s hands rolled into one consuming agony that he feared would tear her apart. It was going to take her time to overcome the grief and guilt she would feel, but he would be there for her, would do everything in his power to ease her pain and hold her together. He wouldn’t let her slip away from him. He wouldn’t lose her.
Her hand trembled in his and he tightened his grip on her, silently telling her that he was there for her, and vowing that he was going to do whatever he could to make this easier on her.
Heat shimmered across his skin beneath his armour as her gaze landed on him, the fire she always stirred in his blood rushing back to the fore, making him burn all over again for her. He slowly lowered his eyes to meet hers, held them as he lifted his free hand and brushed his knuckles across her soft cheek. Her eyes slipped shut and he inhaled hard as she leaned into his touch. He opened his palm and cupped her face, sighed as she shook against it, and swept his thumb across her cheek.
“I am here with you, Little Dragon,” he whispered in her tongue and her violet eyebrows furrowed. A second later, they drew down and her jaw tensed, her lips flattening. He could feel the internal war she waged, the ferocious battle between fear and pain, and her natural strength and courage and the thought that she was doing the right thing. “I will always be with you.”
Her eyes opened and leaped up to his, and his heart went out to her as they searched his, an edge of desperation about them, backing up her feelings that flowed into him through their bond. She needed more reassurance, needed him to soothe her and hand victory to her courage and the strength that was pushing her to spare Hell her brother’s wrath by taking his life.
“I love you, Taryn,” he murmured and her eyebrows furrowed again, and then she was in his arms, hers snaking around his neck to draw him down to her. Bleu slid his arms around her waist, pulled her close to him and kissed her. She sank against him and he held her up, giving her his strength, hoping she would feel that he would give her every last drop of it if she needed it from him. He would be her pillar. She could lean on him. Now and forever. He broke the kiss and pressed his forehead against hers, raised his hands and framed her face with them. “I will be there with you. I will not leave your side. Never.”
“Bleu.” His name was a breathless whisper on her lips and it told him everything she couldn’t say. It conveyed how much his being with her meant to her, that she was going to hold him to his words. He hadn’t broken a promise to her yet and he wasn’t about to start now.
Loren’s voice rose in the silent morning air, but Bleu paid him no heed as he held his mate, opened his heart to her and let her feel everything through their deep bond, holding nothing back. She drew down a deep breath and he felt the change in her, the shift as her heart grew stronger and she slayed her fears and doubts, and rose to the challenge ahead of her. His strong little female.
Taryn’s hands closed over his and drew them away from her face. She smiled as she pressed soft kisses to his knuckles and then opened her eyes and lifted them to his. The fear that had coloured them was gone now, leaving behind the formidable female he had encountered more than once on the battlefield.
She nodded, a small action but one that said she had made her mind up and she was ready.
He lowered their joined hands, released her left but kept hold of her right. He slipped his fingers between hers, squeezed her hand tight and led her through the crowd. They skirted the edges, picking a path through the demons of the Third Realm, heading towards Loren where he stood on the steps with King Thorne, King Tegan and Queen Melia of the demons, and Prince Vail, Rosalind, Sable and Olivia.
When his steady gaze landed on Sable as she busied herself with checking her throwing knives and crossbow, Taryn loosed a low growl.
Bleu dropped his eyes to his mate. She blushed hard but her gaze didn’t leave his, it held firm, challenging him to say something about her jealous outburst.
He couldn’t, not when he wanted to growl whenever she looked at another male.
Gods, he was as bad as Vail. He had thought the urge to strike down any male who looked at her, mated or unmated, would pass when he had claimed her as his forever, but it hadn’t abated at all.
Bleu paused in the middle of the throng of warriors, turned to her and caught her other hand. He sent his armour away from his chest and neck, a ripple of cold following the scales as they rushed over his flesh, leaving it bare. He raised her hand and placed it on the marks on his neck, a series of puncture wounds that were still healing and perfectly matched her sharp little fangs.
“Yours, remember?” he husked and the heat on her cheeks had nothing to do with embarrassment as she lowered her eyes to his throat and her marks.
“Always?” she murmured and stroked the marks, and fuck he wanted to do the same to hers. Her soft caress sent a fiery shiver through him and he bit back a groan.
He nodded. “Forever.”
Her smile blew him away.
She fingered the scabs, following the curve of them, and her eyes began to blaze, a slow steady burn that had him thinking about heading back in the direction they had come.
Loren’s deep voice shattered the silence again and the spell Taryn had cast on him with it. He sighed at the same time as her, made a silent promise that they would finish this after the battle was done, and called his armour back. The black scales rushed over his bare skin, warm against it, and Taryn snatched her hand back, as if they were going to bite her.
He smiled when she muttered under her breath about preferring him as he had been—half naked.
“Sure you don’t prefer me completely naked, Little Dragon?” he husked as he continued to lead her through the crowd.
The sudden spark of desire that lit her blood bolted through his too, courtesy of their bond, and fuck, he had to stop teasing her now that they were mated. It was torture. His primal instinct to please his female had been strong enough before, a force that had him panting to pleasure her whenever she needed, but now it was a divine sort of torture, one that hijacked control and had him rock hard in an instant, ready for her.
He felt her gaze on his backside as he walked, could almost hear her low purr of approval and the wicked thoughts running rampant through her pretty head.
Holy fuck.
He glared over his shoulder at her but she didn’t repent. She just smiled at him and had the audacity to give him a saucy wink.
Minx.
She was determined to keep his eyes on her and off other females, and she was doing a damned good job of it. He didn’t mind her scrambling his mind with lust, but he needed to focus. He hadn’t heard any of what Loren was droning on about, and while he was sure it was just a standard speech to rouse the troops, it wouldn’t reflect well on him if his prince questioned him and discovered he hadn’t been listening.
Gods, he could well imagine how Loren would tease him.
He doubted Loren wouldn’t be alone too. Olivia would be his co-conspirator, and he was ninety-nine percent certain that Thorne and Sable would join in. Hell, Vail and Rosalind would probably take a poke or two at him too.
He didn’t even want to imagine how Leif would berate him if he knew. He flicked a glance off to the right of Loren where the elves had gathered, split into divisions led by Leif, Fynn and Dacian. His three warriors stood at the head of each legion, arms folded across their armoured chests, all of them paying attention to their prince as he spoke. They were doing a better job of being a perfect soldier than he was right now, but finding his mate had been a long time coming and he was still searching for balance, trying to grow accustomed to the new instincts and feelings flowing through him. That was his excuse and he was going to stick with it, because he knew Loren would forgive him if he blamed it all on his beautiful new mate.
Bleu reached the bottom of the stone steps just as Loren finished and turned to the small group who would command sections of the army.
“Rosalind, are you ready?” Loren said and the petite blonde witch nodded.
Vail shifted foot to foot beside her, his violet irises already black around their edges. He fiddled with the black and silver bands around his wrists, his serrated claws scratching at them. When Rosalind placed her hand on his forearm, he hissed at her, flashing huge fangs as his pointed ears flared back against his blue-black hair. His face crumpled a moment later as he realised what he had done and he shoved his fingers through his hair, held his head and dug the points of his claws into his scalp.
Bleu wished he could revive the dark witch Kordula, the female responsible for Vail’s pathological hatred of magic, and kill her all over again.
Rosalind turned towards her mate, skimmed her hands up his forearms, gently took hold of his wrists and carefully drew his hands away from his head. The points of his black claws glistened with his own blood in the bright light. She sighed, brought them to her mouth and kissed each one, staining her lips crimson.
Vail growled, pulled her into his arms and kissed her hard.
Complicated wasn’t a strong enough word to describe his prince. He balanced on the brink of insanity whenever he felt magic, but he couldn’t get enough of his mate. Bleu had thought fate had been cruel to him by making his mate a witch when one had tortured him so vilely, but he was beginning to see that Rosalind was the balm Vail’s heart and head needed in order to heal.
It was there in the way she cradled him gently in her arms even though he was being rough with her, his claws digging into her hips as he kissed her hard, dominating her. She stroked the back of his head, returned the kiss, and Vail slowly calmed, until he was being gentle with his mate, kissing her softly.
Making Bleu want to take Taryn into his arms and kiss her like that.
Loren cleared his throat.
Vail lifted his head, a distant look in his clear violet eyes as they shifted to his older brother.
Leif, Dacian and Fynn joined the party, and Bleu nodded as he looked beyond Loren to them. They would lead the elves in his stead and command a legion each, close to one thousand elves apiece, was a huge step up for them, but he was sure they would each excel. Even Fynn.
The wise-cracking male was unusually sober today.
Bleu could understand why. The fate of their kingdom and Hell rested in their hands—a kingdom that included Fynn’s sister and family. Bleu was glad that Iolanthe was in the mortal realm, far away from the battle about to take place.
“Rosalind. Vail.” Loren turned from one to the other, nodding as they did the same.
Vail closed his eyes and steeled himself.
Rosalind placed her hands on her mate’s face, cupping his cheeks, and shut her blue eyes. She swayed on the spot as she muttered soft words in the old fae tongue. Colourful sparks of light drifted from her fingers and danced in the still air, illuminating Vail’s face as it twisted and he snarled.
“Focus, Vail. I am here,” Loren whispered and settled his hand on his brother’s left shoulder.
Vail relaxed again.
“I feel it,” he murmured, a frown pinching his black eyebrows. “The sword… is close. Beyond the mountains.”
Loren looked down at Vail’s hands as they curled into tight fists. The scent of blood filled the air and Bleu frowned as it seeped from the cracks between Vail’s fingers and dropped to the grey stone steps.
“Enough,” Loren snapped but Vail shook his head.
“It is near the border. A small settlement.” Vail gritted his teeth and his face contorted, and the sense of danger that he always emitted rose sharply.
“Stop,” Loren barked.
Rosalind opened her eyes and looked between Loren and her mate, her blue eyes swirling with silver stars. “A little more. He can take it.”
“He cannot,” Loren countered and reached for her hands.
Vail bared his fangs on a snarl. “More. I can take more.”
Loren looked as if he wanted to argue that he couldn’t and snatch Rosalind’s hands away from his brother, freeing him of her spell, but he lowered his hand instead and huffed. Olivia sidled closer to her mate and Loren glanced down at her, a wealth of hurt in his eyes. She smiled softly, her dark eyes sparkling with it, and reached for his hand.
Bleu’s senses blared a warning.
He shoved Taryn down the steps and lunged for Loren just as Vail turned on him, his lips peeling back off his enormous fangs. He pulled Loren out of the path of Vail’s attack and Vail’s claws raked down his chest, breaking through his armour in places. Fire burned in their wake and Bleu grunted as he staggered backwards into Loren, knocking him off the steps. Olivia shrieked his name and rushed after him. Rosalind bit out something harsh in the old fae tongue and launched at her mate.
Bleu snapped his hand around Vail’s throat before she could reach him and kicked off, slamming the male into the stone wall. Vail’s breath left him in a sharp puff but the shock that ripple
d across his face quickly morphed into darkness, anger so black that Bleu shuddered as he felt it wrap around him.
Tainted.
But not lost.
Not yet.
He shoved Vail hard against the wall and the male lashed out with his left hand, claws aimed at his throat. Bleu caught it and pinned it above his head.
“You do not want to fight me, Prince Vail,” Bleu snarled in the elf tongue.
Vail stilled, the fury draining from his face as he stared at Bleu, a flicker of confusion in his black eyes. Violet seeped back into them, driving the black back, and he looked down at Bleu’s arm in front of him and then back up into his eyes and blinked.
“Bleu?” Vail’s face crumpled and Bleu’s heart bled for him as he looked around him, an edge of despair in his eyes. They came back to Bleu and he shook his head. “I never wanted to fight you.”
“I know,” Bleu whispered and slowly loosened his hold on his prince, allowing him to find his feet again. Vail sagged against the wall and Rosalind rushed in to fuss over him. Bleu backed away, holding Vail’s violet gaze, reading what he couldn’t bring himself to voice. He was sorry. Not for what had just happened, but for what had transpired millennia ago, and in the centuries that had followed. Bleu nodded, accepting the silent apology. “I know.”
“Vail.” Loren leaped back up onto the steps and joined Rosalind in checking Vail over, ignoring everyone as they advised him to be more careful.
Bleu didn’t join them. Vail wasn’t a threat to Loren. He loved his brother and it killed him whenever he lashed out at Loren. He had only lashed out at Loren because he had been the one closest to Vail when the flow of magic around him had made him snap.
He took the few steps down towards Taryn and she came to meet him, fussed over him in her own way by planting her hands on her hips and glaring at him.
“I thought we tackled things together now?” she said in the dragon tongue.
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