She tried not to look at Rion, who stared at her with this heartbreaking, lost expression. He had been fighting for her. That realization made her hurt more.
Luthias seemed startled, yet...somehow, he didn't seem angry. She shrank back when he approached, but her fear proved unfounded. He simply lifted her into his arms, supporting her head against his shoulder, and looked past her to a dumbfounded Kieran.
"The helicopter," said Luthias.
"Yeah. Coming," Kieran managed, pulling out his phone.
Suddenly a helicopter was lowering itself down in the midst of all those hurt wolves, some needing to roll out from beneath the landing gear before it touched ground. Elizabeth felt her heart drop when she accidentally made eye contact with Bull, who was holding together the broken shin of a young girl injured during Luthias' blind rage. The clearing was stained by the destruction; the blood would never fully leave the tree bark or the stones. Elizabeth tried not to imagine how many might be critically injured, or already dead. Rion had said that the pack was ready for a fight, but how could he have known the true power of an ancient demon that never walked in his natural form?
Kieran jumped in first, then Luthias, Elizabeth clinging tight. She kept her eyes shut, not wanting to see what she was leaving behind. As the helicopter took off, she tried hear only the sound of its propellers and not the mournful howl that rose after them, born of a broken heart.
Chapter 5: Homecoming
Luthias didn't say a word to her that whole flight, just stewing in a silence she couldn't possibly understand. When they touched down at the palace, servants arrived, whisking Luthias to healers and Elizabeth to the baths, where handmaidens would scrub her thoroughly with soaps, conditioner, and perfume. People asked her about her well-being, but no one asked her what had happened. Maybe they sensed that the answer wasn't pretty.
Laced into a new corset, hair freshly brushed, her gown nicely fitted, she was at last deposited in a room that was considered "hers." However, the time of her disappearance, in addition to the weeks she had stayed in Luthias' chambers, made this room alien to her. She could only feel lost in it. She wandered to the vanity, dragging out the chair, sitting down. She began to pull the pins out of her hair when she glimpsed a bandaged Luthias in the mirror, watching her from against the far wall.
"You claim Emilie made you give yourself to the Wolf."
Hearing it aloud was like being stabbed in the heart. Only because it was true, she managed a nod.
"I've started hearing her voice, in my head," she admitted, despite pain. "She laughs at everything I do. She wants me to go out of my way to hurt you."
This didn't seem surprising to him. He ran his fingers through his hair, as if thoughtful. His refusal to respond began to frustrate her anew.
"What happened between you two?" she demanded, finally turning to look at him. "I thought she was your mate—I thought you loved each other."
"It was complicated."
"That doesn't mean anything!"
"She died with reason to hate me," he said at last. "That's all I wish to say on the matter."
"How can you be so fucking formal right now?!" she cried, furious.
"It is our way."
"It's bullshit!"
In spite of her anger, when he approached, she quieted. When he touched her cheek, she leaned into his palm, closing her eyes. His touch made the world seem right, even when it wasn't.
"Let's get one thing straight," he said, calm. "You're mine, Elizabeth. This can never happen again."
Tears welled up, though she held them behind closed lids.
"...I'm so sorry," she whispered.
"About what?"
"For betraying you...for being disloyal."
"And how will you make it up to me?"
Elizabeth opened her eyes to see him, soon losing herself in the intensity of Luthias' gaze. She was putty in his hands.
"How do you want me to, my lord?"
Immediately, she saw that wonderful flicker of a smile, betraying feelings behind the mask of nobility. He responded, at first, with a kiss. This deepened as his fangs nicked her lower lip, one of his claws extending before she felt the new dress being torn slowly down the back, through even the boning of the corset, and all of her clothing simply fell in a heap around her.
"You'll not have any new clothes for a while," he said.
A laugh escaped her.
"Yes, my lord."
Luthias jerked her to her feet, then pushed her onto the bed, where she remained as he slowly stripped himself. This wasn't like the times before, though. Her heart clenched slightly with fear even as it pounded with anticipation. She couldn't help but expect a punishing advance when he lowered himself over her, but was again surprised by a kind kiss. He kept knocking her off balance, mentally. She didn't know what to expect next.
His hand touched hers. His claws were out, drawing a thin trail of blood where he drew his thumb along her palm.
"Can you remember where he touched you?" he asked.
At first, she didn't. But as she slowly waded through the fog of uncertain memory, she would guide his hand to her slit, guiding him to cup her. She was dry now, anxious, and a little afraid. Once more, he surprised her. His lips moved to her neck, kissing her softly before trailing to her shoulder, where he sucked gently on her smooth flesh. She trembled, more so when his claws retracted and his thumb touched her clit, first simply pressing, then stroking it as though it were a petal on the most tantalizing rose. A moan escaped her, quieted by his lips on hers. His stroking continued as his middle finger slipped inside her, coaxing the juices out from the inside.
"Luthias," she whispered, past his lips.
A tear trickled down, one of relief and joy, as her anxieties faded. A second finger joined the first and she parted her thighs slightly, pressing into him, her own hand reaching to touch his waiting member. She was delighted to find it hard for her, familiar as she cupped its shaft. He slipped a third finger inside, and she gasped a laugh, shaking a bit as he pried her this way and that. Without prompting, his lips left hers and went to her breast, sucking hard, knowing how desperately it turned her on. She could hardly breathe, meekly holding her neglected mound, until he left her damp and puckered peak and switched to the other, wanting to render it just as swollen. His fingers danced inside her. She whimpered, aching.
"I need you," she breathed.
"Only me?" he asked.
"Only you."
He surprised her by flipping onto his back, letting her lower herself onto his enormous cock. She came down as far as she could and her fingers pressed against his pecks—“a-ah, ah, ahh, e-ah," was her cry, as she came down again, and again. Her cheeks were hot with lust as she gorged herself on him, tits bouncing up and down, their weight unreal against that narrow body. Impossibly wet, she pressed him to the furthest reaches of her quim, panting, groaning.
"I-I'm coming!" she cried, and orgasm rocked her, clamping her tight around his phallas, just as he tensed up. It was her turn to surprise him as she suddenly removed herself from his member and slid down, still trembling with release as she touched a cock that might as well have been a loaded pistol. He stared with confusion at first, and then relief, when she began to lap the remnants of her own pleasure from his sensitive skin. Her mouth came down around him. Luthias reached down and gripped her hair, feeling her suck only briefly before release came fast. His seed was thick against her throat, and she swallowed willingly.
She sat up, wiping her mouth. Even then, she averted her eye. Luthias leaned forward, lifting her chin to guide her gaze back to him.
"You're forgiven," he said.
Her heart soared. She kissed him, wrapping her arms around him tight, joy filling her being.
"You're too kind," she whispered. "I don't deserve you..."
He hushed her, pulling her into his embrace. For now, whatever dark secret rest in his mind would remain unsaid. The two of them would lay together as the moon rose high, content with one
another.
Chapter 6: Aftermath
A strange dream plagued Elizabeth, that night. She was a spectator as a dark-haired version of herself sat apart from Luthias, shaking with fury, staring at him from across his private study. Luthias appeared oblivious, a quill moving over a scroll with purpose.
"That's it?" Emilie said.
Luthias didn't respond.
"You can't just pretend I don't exist, bastard, I'm the mother of your child."
"A partling child is not an heir. It's my duty as lord to preserve the lineage."
"Who gives a shit about your 'lineage'?!" she cried. "You can't just marry some purebred slut while I'm right here!"
"Demons don't marry, they mate."
"To hell with all of it!"
Emilie snatched the scroll off the table, right out from under his quill, ripping it. Elizabeth had never seen such a look come over Luthias, somehow worse than the bloodlust she had witnessed just the day before. He rose and reached for the scroll, only to have Emilie hold it away and rip it in half, throwing it into the fire.
"Do you...have any idea what you've done?"
He spoke strangely, the words labored with rage and shock. His eyes shifted constantly from red to white and back, his body not understanding what sort of situation this was, if this was friend or foe or something that defied definition. He rose his hand as if to strike her, but she screamed before he could move again, bewildering him long enough that she could duck and flee to the doorway. She stood there with her hand on the handle yet she stared him down, daring him to come after her, daring him to do something.
"What do you want from me, Emilie?" Luthias demanded, the words underscored by an inhuman roar.
"I want you to love me," she said.
Luthias stared. He seemed either overwhelmed or just...broken. Only then did Emilie leave, slamming the door behind her. He stood there, motionless, staring at where she had been—until he bellowed and shoved his hand right through a wall, decorating it with a spurt of blood. Nothing more than a specter, Elizabeth longed to comfort him, although she got a sense that her comforts wouldn't work on this man. He was in the midst of a transformation, which would bring him from that inhuman sneer to the flicker of a smile that made Elizabeth's heart melt.
--
Emilie's voice wasn't gone, after Elizabeth came home. It returned often without warning, telling her nonsense or sometimes just screaming to cause a migraine. Elizabeth was all but crippled by it, sometimes bedridden for days at a time. Luthias sent for healers from all corners of the world, and each took a look at her, giving her herbs for this and that. Nothing seemed to work. Often the herbs only seemed to worsen the nausea she felt in the morning.
She didn't know what she would do without Luthias. Although he still had things to attend to throughout the day, he was at her side more often than not. Though he seemed no more protective than usual, it was apparent that her kidnapping had shaken him. She had more people assigned to guard her, and Kieran had to escort her anywhere she went within palace grounds. Elizabeth might have complained, if she wasn't grateful there was someone to catch her whenever she suddenly fell over. Whenever she had a fall, she would wake to find herself in her bed, a damp cloth on her head and Luthias at her side. He never complained. That was the best part.
It had been almost two months since her kidnapping; still Elizabeth laid in bed, waiting the newest of the foreign healers. Today was a rare day when Luthias had no choice but to be gone—apparently there had been attempted treason somewhere on the island, but he still didn't explain much to her.
She laid on her side, trying not to think about her aching breasts. Her loosest nightgown was all she had been able to wear that day, with corsets and bras alike aggravating the sensitive mounds, which she swore were more swollen than they had ever been. She had gained weight from reduced movement, she thought, her thighs heavier and her poor stomach starting to rise out from her pelvis, making a roundness in her middle that had never interrupted her figure before. Everything hurt, more or less, and she couldn't bear to talk about it.
Idiot.
Elizabeth was getting better at ignoring the voice. She rolled onto her back, ignoring the resulting ache in her lower back. When at last the door opened, she glanced over lazily to see an older gentleman in a pageboy hat and round glasses, carrying a little case.
"Hello, you can call me Dr. Viktor," he said.
She nodded a little, almost smiling.
"Hello."
He sat with her, withdrawing a few instruments from his bag.
"What seems to be the trouble?" he asked.
Very normal and professional, compared to the others Luthias had sent. She was relieved.
"Aches, soreness...a voice in my head," she sighed.
"Can't do much about a voice in your head," he said, surprisingly candid. "Though those usually mean something didn't get resolved in your karma cycle. You could ask a spiritual guide."
As far as advice went, that was the most sound so far.
"The aches, though, that I can solve for you. Sit up."
She managed to do so, though a few muscles creaked. She cringed as he moved his stethoscope over her chest, aggravating what was already sensitive.
"Your equipment is all so...human," she commented.
"In these bodies, we've got blood, organs, hearts, and puss like anybody else. I've got another kit for the other form. Dress down for me?"
She removed her loose gown, though she was ashamed of what she looked like underneath. She cringed as he again pressed against her breast, listening for her heartbeat. Oddly though, the next place he moved the cold disc was her stomach, where he listened for much longer.
"I've got the problem," he said, and held the earpieces to her.
Elizabeth gave him a look, confused. But she would put the pieces in her ears, listening when he moved the disc to a new place on her slightly distended belly.
"That's another heartbeat, you see," the doctor said. "Pregnancy causes all sorts of aches—maybe even the voice too. Who knows?"
"I...what?"
Pregnancy. Her mind had all but rejected the concept, though all the signs had been there. Pregnant, months now—long enough to hear a heartbeat. There was a child inside her. Luthias', or...
"How far along, Dr. Viktor?" she asked, trying to appear cheerful.
"I'd give it...eight, nine weeks. Maybe more, maybe less. It's hard to tell with demon fetuses, they have little growth spurts that make it all guesswork."
She cursed mentally, heartbroken, angry, even as a small thrill began to settle in. It could be Rion's.
Wouldn't that be sweet, Emilie cooed.
She tried to answer the rest of the doctor's questions, letting him check her blood pressure, her temperature, and a few other things that she knew she had never had checked in a human hospital. She might have been more interested, if the sound of that tiny heartbeat wasn't still drowning out everything else.
Too soon, Dr. Viktor was closing up his bag.
"I'll tell Lord Luthias the good news," he said, standing. "You've got a touch of human blood in you, but the child will be all but pure. If it's a boy, he could even name him the Cennasaí heir."
Elizabeth felt like dying.
"P-please," she managed, before he left. "Don't."
His expression made it too hard to tell the truth. Instead, she smiled and told him, "I want to tell him myself."
That must have been compelling enough.
"A fine idea, Miss Elizabeth," he said. "Congratulations."
She watched him leave, feeling as though her world was crashing down. Still naked, she would roll back onto her side, drawing her knees up close. Her hand pressed to her stomach as she closed her eyes, wondering if she could feel it without the doctor's sensitive instruments. It was a bittersweet sensation when indeed, she felt the tiny, erratic pulse of her dearest joy, or most lasting mistake.
THE END
Demon Romance
For
bidden Mate: Fruit of his Loins
Secret Blood World Series Book Three
Lucile Wild
Forbidden Mate: Fruit of his Loins
Prologue: Stolen Seed
Separated from Elizabeth at her doctor's request, told only vaguely why she was under the weather, Luthias suffered another night without her. He had thought the waking dreams of Emilie would finally fade with Elizabeth home safely, but karma enjoyed tormenting the Canine Lord. Sheets kicked off his mattress, tension blooming behind his eyes, Luthias wasn't even surprised when his insomnia conjured an apparition of Emilie sitting on the windowsill, watching him. She wore a thin, white nightdress, neckline plunging deep over her surprising bust, the waistline tapered over her slender hips. Her dark hair was wild and loose, a wave wrapped around her elbow as she smiled at the lord.
"What do you want?" he grunted, hoping engaging with her would end this faster.
"That's no way to greet your lost love," Emilie asked.
Luthias rolled over, turning his back to her. He didn't need this. His feelings for Emilie confused him; he longed for the simplicity of Elizabeth's presence, her sweet taste, and her tight slit. The fact that Elizabeth had come from Emilie exemplified fate's cruel sense of humor.
"Luthias..."
Her soft request was followed by a long moan, deep like pain, yet steady as pleasure. Curious, he looked back towards his hallucination. He was startled to see she was changed—though she wore the same nightgown, it was now distorted by her bulging belly, large and round and tensing at the hem of the transparent fabric, which was also struggling to contain breasts that, though large before, had ballooned to distracting proportions and squeezed together against the revealing neckline. She leaned back against the windowsill, one hand gripping the ledge, the other on her monstrous stomach. Emilie looked just as she had days before giving birth to Avery, overburdened with the weight of a partling baby.
BILLIONAIRE ROMANCE: The Unforgettable Southern Billionaires: The Complete Collection Boxed Set (Young Adult Rich Alpha Male Billionaire Romance) Page 15