Tangled Sin (A Dark Realm Novel)

by Georgia Lyn Hunter

  “No-no,” she whispered.

  “Yes,” the man on the throne, said. “Any match in this hall is always to the death.”

  He was reading her mind.

  Another punch to the jaw and Riley’s head snapped to the side. Fresh blood trailed down his face, he wavered and fell to his knees.

  “Oh, God.” Her vision misted, she pressed a fist to her churning stomach. “Please, stop this.”

  “You would want a weakling?” the man asked her, pinning her with those horrid lime-green eyes.

  “Let him go,” she pleaded, blinking back tears. Her chest hurt with each pained breath she took. No matter what had happened between them, she didn't want him wounded. Or worse, dead. “He’s already injured, he can't continue like that.”

  A hush fell at her words. Then the rumbles started. Her attention darted back to the fight. Saia had no idea what had happened. She brushed at her blurred sight.

  A low snarl, like a predator set free, Riley leaped to his feet, his entire body appeared to be consumed in a swirling fiery glow, and with inhuman speed, he rammed his fist brutally into Móric’s face. Bones crunched.

  An agonized roar ricocheted off the granite hall.

  Móric dropped to his knees in a thud. Riley grabbed his head and twisted.

  “Riley, no!” she cried out, realizing the horrific truth. She sprinted across the floor, but bounced off the invisible wall, trapped.

  He didn't stop. The muscles in his arms bulged. The tendons in his neck strained. His tattoo seemed to shift, dance in an array of fiery movements over his arms and across his back as the glow increased. Rage contorted his handsome features. Seconds later, he wrenched the head clear off the man’s neck. Blood spewed like a geyser, drenching him. The body fell to the ground.

  Too shocked to look away, Saia pressed a shaky hand to her mouth, holding back her scream.

  Silence reigned.

  The crowd looked on in disbelief. A wave of rage vibrated against the walls. Bits of rubble broke and fell, scattering to the floor.

  Riley tossed the head onto the slain man then waved his hand. A flame erupted from the corpse, turning it to ash within seconds. Chest heaving, he slowly turned to her. His eyes burned an eerie lime green, a color she’d seen just moments ago.

  Oh, God! She backed away, hitting the coarse wall behind her.

  “Welcome back, son,” the seated man murmured.

  “Son?” Saia rasped, her fear confirmed.

  “Yes, human. Réomer is mine. Let me introduce myself since we’re about to become kin.” A cold smile touched his mouth set in a pitilessly handsome face. Familiar green eyes lit with satisfaction. “I am Wrath. You, it seems, are more than I thought since it took you to bring him back.”

  But Saia barely heard him, trying to wipe away the horrifying images of Riley—her Riley—so cold; ruthlessly killing another. It froze her to the marrow of her bones.

  “Indeed. I hear your thoughts. They are rather loud and noisy. What you have seen is our way of life. Weakness is not tolerated here. In this world, it is kill or be killed.”

  This world? Wrath’s words pierced the numbness of her mind. Her gaze darted to Riley, the fiery glow in him fading. Drenched in blood and gore, he cautiously approached her, like she was the dangerous one.

  “Noooo,” she moaned. Her hand flashed out, stopping him dead in his tracks. She shook her head as the truth stabbed her brain, horror at what where she truly was engulfing her. Hell!

  She was in Hell.

  The gray walls around her spun. Her knees buckled. Darkness surged into her rapidly fraying mind. And she gladly let oblivion claim her.

  Chapter 11

  Saia cracked her eyelids open and stared at the unfamiliar gray, domed ceiling supported by heavy black wooden girders. Her gaze dropped to several tall, arch-shaped windows on her left, breaking the sea of granite walls surrounding her.

  A dull purple glow filtered through the windowpanes. Pretty colors, unlike anything she’d ever seen. An enormous pale orb hung low in the skies, casting a silvery shimmer across the lavender skies and into the room. She angled her head and reached out a hand, imagining she could actually hold it if she closed one eye.

  “It’s like your moon,” a quiet voice explained. “Only visible in the early hours of the morn.”

  Her head snapped to her right and she dropped her arm. The moonlight silhouetted the savagely beautiful man seated on a padded bench near the bed. She frowned. “Riley?”

  A wave of his hand, and yellow lights from little holes in the wall threw a golden radiance around the room. He watched her with a guarded gaze, his expression unreadable. His shaggy hair was damp, like he’d just showered. No wounds marred his face now. No blood or gore on him…the fog in her brain cleared and her terror came rushing back.

  She shot up from the bed and scurried away. Except there was no place to go—she truly was trapped in a nightmare.

  Riley didn’t move. The brief flash in his eyes made her think her actions had hurt him, or it could have been the flicker from the lights. But she was unable to get past the horror she’d witnessed, to see him kill with such ruthlessness.

  Saia dragged in a desperate breath and huddled against the wall. Outside in the darkness when he’d battled the crowd near the caves, she’d been spared the brutality, but ripping the head off another person?

  “Now you see why this would have never worked between us?” His eyes were flat, as if being in this place sucked out all his emotions.

  “You…you killed a man,” she whispered.

  “That man was a demon, who would have raped you then passed you on to his pals.” A nerve beat furiously on his jaw. “Wrath awaits for us to complete the mating.”

  His statement struck her like a blow to the head. She understood exactly what that word meant. Sex. “You can't be serious—”

  “And I thought you wanted to elope with me?” Mocking words now.

  Despite her fear, heat bloomed in her cheeks. He’d heard every darn thing. “That was only so Mother would back off. Let me go!”

  “Oh, no, sweet Saia. That time has been and passed. You are mine.”

  She scowled. “I’ll find someone to send me back.”

  “Try, and I will kill him. Then I’ll tie you to that bed and I’ll make you beg me to fuck you before I make you mine.”

  She swallowed at the promise. She should be angry, except her traitorous body lit up like the Fourth of July at the threat. He always did that to her. Damn him!

  “If you think because your father demands we mate, I must, you've lost your mind. I’ve had enough of Mother planning my life, I’m certainly not getting trapped into another obligation with number thirty.”

  He shot up from the bench, fast and furious, and dragged her up to him. “Did you just number me?” his voice lowered dangerously. “I'm your last, your only one.”

  “I hate you!”

  “Good. Love’s far too overrated an emotion. It will make this mating easier.”

  Saia stared at him, dazed. He didn't believe in love?

  Why would he when he had women queuing to fall into his bed? She stiffened her backbone and shoved at him. “I won't do it.”

  “By the nine damn circles, Saia”—he shook her—“you try my patience! Just how the hell do you think you're going to get out of this place?”

  “You can open a portal, or whatever it is you do to travel between worlds.”

  A low snarl rolled out of him. He dropped her, and she fell on her backside. “My sire tried everything to get me back. Now that I am here, do you honestly think he’s just going to let me leave without paying my dues?” His fists jammed in his pants pockets as if not to shake her again. “We have things to attend to. And Saia,”—his merciless gaze pinned hers—“I fought for you, you belong to me. Do not think of another, or I will be honor-bound to kill him.”

  “Another?” The word tripped out of her in confusion.

  “You think I don’t know that
asshole Piers kissed you?”

  A blast of heat flooded her face. She didn't ask who’d told him, it could only be Piers. Warily, she rubbed her upper arms, still feeling the imprint of his hard fingers on her flesh. “I belong to no one but myself.”

  “Not in this world.” His expression cooled. Suddenly, he looked too much like a stranger. “I'm all that stands between you and those fuckers out there.”

  Saia froze. He made her so mad, she’d forgotten the precariousness of her situation. “I want to go home.”

  “It is too late for that. I will be back. You are mine, Saia—make no mistake.”

  As he stalked out of the chamber, she noticed the charcoal-gray shirt he wore with some kind of black military-styled pants. His knee-high boots had several dark buckles marching down the sides. It was the uniform of these demons.

  So easily he’d settled into his true life.

  Soon he would come for her, a man she didn’t recognize. She inhaled another choppy breath. Who was she kidding? She’d never really known Riley.

  This time, she’d jumped straight into the fire—Hell’s fire. And there was no way out.

  She sat there for a moment, too dazed to move.

  Then she shot up from the bed and prowled around the bedroom, tried to get her thoughts in order. She could only leave here with Riley. That, she understood. Deep down, she realized, no matter how mad he was with her, he would keep her safe.

  Saia found herself near the arched window. Curiosity won. Cautiously, she peered outside. In the distance, a gleaming black river snaked across the arid lands. The dark sky had taken on a purple tinge. Was it morning now?

  The buildings here were unfamiliar with their sloping roofs. It appeared as if dragons lay over them, gleaming gray scales overlapping each other. The fortress had been built against the ebony mountain. Its peaks so tall and eerie, she almost expected to see a winged monster flying over them.

  Thank God, she was inside, if one did come visiting.

  High walls surrounded the stronghold. Bleached white trees with twisted limbs and messy, twine-like leaves grew in abundance around the place. Bushes with tiny claret-colored foliage ran along pathways.

  People walked about—crap, not people, demons. Dangerous demons, not like those who lived on Earth. She bolted from the window back to the bed, her heart crashing against her ribs. Wrapped her arms around her knees, and prayed.

  Please, please let this end soon…

  ***

  Riley roamed the lower level’s torch-lit corridor, frustration prowling through him. It made him want to lash out, seek retribution for Saia spurning him.

  Your own fault, asshole. You threw it in her face what a dick you are!

  He rubbed his nape. That was then; when his only thoughts had been to keep her safe. Now, in this place, Riley found he wasn’t so inclined to walk away from what he wanted.

  Saia was his.

  But the fact that she thought him weak and wanted the fight stopped bit ass big time.

  True, in those last moments, his strength had been fading, but she’d been his catalyst. The thought of what would happen to her if he lost turned him into a crazed beast. The savagery of his nature returned full force, he must have scared the life out of her when he’d ripped off Móric’s head. He’d never experienced anything like that lethal intent to kill he’d felt in that moment.

  Riley rolled his shoulders. Why the hell did he feel this tremendous heat rolling beneath his skin, almost as if his muscles were stretching, his skin suddenly too tight for his body? Fingers clenched. Unclenched. Nothing worked. He paced, trying to ease the discomfort.

  Then it clicked. Dammit, of course.

  The fight with Móric had opened his psychic shields. He was tapping into the energy of others. Power thrummed through his limbs, feeding his starved psyche. Satisfaction surged. Good. He’d need all the help he could get.

  One thing he understood about his kind, they never gave up, and they would try for Saia again. Until it was cemented in their damn brains that she belonged to him. But shit, he felt like a buzzing detonator, he needed to work off this energy.

  A young soldier passed and stared at him in awe. Yeah, rumors had already spread. Weak as he was, fresh from the human realm, he’d fought a day in the Seven Day Trial and soon after, he’d taken the head of a fighter with his bare hands.

  Irritation surged. Yeah, I'm a real badass.

  Damn tired of being gazed at like some freakazoid, he stopped his erratic pacing. Snapped, “The training fields?”

  “Beyond the mountains, across the River Styx, my lord,” the demon said.

  The admiration in the soldier’s expression pissed him off. The only person he wanted to look at him with acceptance now hated him. And he had to claim her in a mating ritual, bond with her, or else Wrath, the bastard, would feed her to the wolves.

  “Keep watch over my mate until my return,” he ordered the soldier. “Anything happens to her, and death with be a gift you’ll long for.”

  “Yes, of course, my lord!” The soldier hustled off.

  The spiking energy, along with anger humming in his veins, Riley strode out to the portico and the dirt-packed courtyard. The orange inferno in the distance brightened the lavender skies of early morn.

  He concentrated on the burning flames over the shadowy river in the distance and flashed.

  The oppressive heat this close to the Black Erymic Mountains hung heavily over the place, the odor of sulfur stronger. On the far side of the mountains, several white, tent-like structures revealed the garrisons. To the left, the raucousness from the hive of activity, the clashing of steel, resonated eerily in the dense air.

  He glanced around the training fields, and wouldn’t you know it, the first person he laid eyes on was his sire. His body slick with perspiration, and wearing only pants that molded to heavy thighs, Wrath stood at the edges of the field, listening to whatever V’lyrn imparted, his expression grim. But like a homing device, those narrowed eyes soon settled on Riley.

  Ignoring his sire, Riley did a quick scan of the place. Where was Ayperos? His foster brother usually shadowed Wrath when he wasn’t on duty.

  Then he dismissed the thought, not really interested in Wrath or his preferred heir. Riley stalked off in the opposite direction and felt his old man’s gaze follow him. He wasn't an idiot, he understood his sire wanted him here for one reason only, to see if he were capable of housing his sin.

  If he couldn’t—well, the change would kill him. Ayperos would be the chosen one.

  And Wrath would no longer have to be reminded that he’d spawned an embarrassment.

  Swiping a hand over his damp face, Riley selected a broadsword from one of the squires in charge of weaponry and stepped onto the vast, dust-filled arena. Several soldiers stopped their deadly fight and eyed him like their favorite kind of prey.

  What? Weak and easy?

  Assholes. Did they not get the memo of how dangerous he was?

  “Come, Réomer, let’s see what you’re made off,” a sweaty male stripped to the waist sneered. He lunged. Riley blocked as more came at him. He pivoted and struck out. A hard slam on his arm, he jumped back. Pain simmered. Blood dripped from his wound.

  The soldiers snickered. These bastards enjoyed testing him. Their attacks strategized, searching for flaws. True, he had plenty, since he’d trained little with swords while on the human realm. Too bad they’d missed his reintroduction into society when he’d taken on Móric and killed him. And he didn't even need a weapon.

  A blade swung toward him. Fisting his weapon in both hands, he deflected then swung around and attacked. A dark memory surfaced…so many bodies lying on the ground, destroyed, and him covered in blood...

  He shook his head to clear the image. He didn't want to think about that time—his loss of control. The shame. Soon after that, with his power bound, he’d been packed off to Sheol in the upper echelons.

  No, not going there, the past would stay buried. He concentrated
on his fight. He’d work off this energy and go back to the fortress. His heart clipped hard when he thought of Saia.

  By the nine hells, she drove him crazy, and he wanted her so damn bad—hell, he had from the first moment he’d sucked on that luscious lip. His mate. He should have known when he’d been unable to walk away from her, no matter what he said or did.

  He smirked at the horde of soldiers circling him. Oh, he’d relish taking down more of these jackasses. Then he’d go and claim his difficult consort.

  ***

  At the sound of a door opening and closing, Saia jerked upright from the uncomfortable position she’d fallen asleep in, her heart thudding in her ears.

  A slender woman around her age entered the room, carrying a tray. Her ivory features a striking contrast to her braided, plum-toned hair. She studied Saia with curious, light aqua-blue eyes. “Good morn. I’m Ikaria. Lord Réomer sent me to aid you.”

  Saia eyed the girl—demoness—warily. Her friendly smile eased Saia some. But darn, Ikaria was beautiful.

  “Where is he?” Saia asked.

  “He’s gone to the training fields. He did come back during the night, but you were asleep. He left you a missive.” She nodded to the bureau opposite the bed. “I brought you a meal.”

  Saia watched as Ikaria crossed to the archway bear the bureau and set the tray on a low table in the sitting area. “Is there anything I can do for you, ma’ori?”

  Ma’ori?

  She must have spoken aloud, because Ikaria answered as she returned to the bedroom, smoothing her hands over her skirt. “It means, ‘mate of my lord.’”

  Oh. “Please, call me Saia.” She got off the bed and headed for the door. “I need to get out of here for a while.”

  “Ma—Saia, you cannot!”

  At her urgency, Saia spun around. “Why not?”

  “Until the mating has taken place, you would not be safe out there. Our males will be drawn to you, and will fight for you again. But this level is secure, it belongs to Lord Réomer. No harm will come to you here.”

  This place and its people, with their violent ways, really scared her. Taking a deep breath, Saia changed direction and walked over to the table. The aroma of freshly baked bread teased her nose, and her belly cramped in hunger. She realized she hadn't eaten since the party. And when she’d run from that ugly altercation back home a lifetime ago, food had been the last thing on her mind.