Claimed by a Demon King

by Felicity Heaton

  Bleu shifted his purple gaze to her.

  “What he said.” She wanted to leave it at that but the edge of irritation and hurt in his eyes made her add, “It is really nice that you were worried, but I was sort of talking to Loren, and Grave just wanted to make Thorne mad at you.”

  And Thorne was making his way back to them now, his horns curling and eyes beginning to glow with his fury.

  Bleu lingered. “You are well though? You seem out of spirits.”

  “If the female says she is well, then she is well,” Thorne barked and scowled as he shoved Bleu’s shoulder, pushing him away from her. “She clearly does not appreciate you probing into her private life.”

  “This from the male who would do the same once I remove myself from her?” Bleu squared his shoulders and settled his hand on the black blade hanging at his waist.

  Sable lowered her head, not wanting to watch and definitely not wanting to hear what she knew was coming, but found it impossible not to peek.

  Thorne grinned. “I know her private matters. She has spoken about much with me. She has confided in me.”

  Bleu lips thinned and his ears flared, flattening against the sides of his head. His eyes shone vivid purple.

  Loren’s hand clamped down on his shoulder, holding him back.

  Sable planted her hands on her hips. “Seriously, Thorne? You want to score a victory over him with something like this... because I’ve spoken about much with Bleu too. I’ve spoken about much with Loren… and with Olivia… and the list goes on. If you want me to continue to speak with you about anything, both of you, you’ll grow up this second and drop this stupid rivalry.”

  Neither male looked inclined to agree to that.

  Sable huffed. “I’m going on ahead. Be sure to ogle my fine arse as I walk away from you both because it’s all you’ll be seeing of me on this hunt.”

  She shoved past them and trudged up the hill, trying to put as much space between themas quickly as possible. Grave smiled as she passed him. Sable was tempted to punch it off his face but stopped herself. If she hit Grave, the vampire would hit back, and then all hell would break loose.

  Loren bit out something harsh-sounding in the elf language.

  Sable didn’t slow.

  Not even when Thorne appeared on her right, his dusky brown horns curled around his pointed ears and his eyes blazing scarlet fire. He shoved his fingers through his russet-brown hair and trailed them down his left horn.

  “Sable,” he started and she glared at him, daring him to say something stupid. She might not be foolish enough to land a punch on Grave’s jaw, but she would slap Thorne in a heartbeat. “I did not mean to upset you.”

  “You never do,” Sable spat and kept stomping up the hill. It was bigger than it had looked from the bottom and the path was rocky, bumpy underfoot. She stepped over a root and huffed. “Why can’t men think before they open their mouths?”

  Thorne shrugged, shifting the long blade balanced on his right shoulder. “He angered me.”

  “You angered him too. Does that make you feel better? Does it make you equal? I’m tired of this childish behaviour.”

  “I will stop then,” Thorne said, his deep gravelly voice making her insides quiver and heat. She stifled that reaction and frowned at him, not convinced he could come good on that promise. “I will stop if you swear you are mine and mine alone and have no interest in Bleu.”

  Sable tipped her chin up and said nothing. She wasn’t going to let him bully her into confessing her feelings for him, whatever they were, or that she was only interested in Bleu as a friend. If she did, she was only giving his behaviour positive reinforcement, making him think he could use this tactic on her whenever he wanted something.

  “What if I just said I would stop?” he whispered and moved closer to her.

  The back of his left hand brushed hers and she looked up at him, and sighed at the soft hopeful look in his beautiful eyes.

  “I would like that,” she admitted quietly and he nodded, turned his face forwards and walked with her.

  Sable’s gaze lingered on him, tracing the noble lines of his profile and the sweeping arc of his dusky ridged left horn as it arched from behind the top of his pointed ear and followed the curve around to the lobe. They didn’t even bother her anymore—not in this smaller form that told her he was in control of his emotions nor in their wilder state, when they grew large and curled around like ram’s horns, forming a loop and deadly points. In fact, if pressed, she would admit that she liked them. They added something to his appearance, something rugged and masculine, and alluring.

  “Gods, I want you when you stare at me like that,” Thorne whispered and ran his free hand over his left horn again. It grew, curving further around, the tip closer to his cheekbone. Desire. That emotion rippled through her too. “Stop it or I will whisk you into the woods before any see us disappear and take you against a tree.”

  Sable shivered at the thought, hot and achy inside even when she told herself not to react to his husky, naughty words. His nostrils flared and he groaned.

  He raised a single dark eyebrow and looked down at her out of the corner of his eye. “You would like that? My female is a wicked little one.”

  “Not your female,” Sable countered as she finally tore her gaze away and sauntered on ahead of him.

  “Yet,” Thorne said from behind her and she fought the smile that threatened to rise onto her lips at the determination in his tone.

  At least he had acknowledged that he hadn’t won her yet and she didn’t belong to him.

  He had to fight harder if he wanted more than just a swift moment of madness in a dark basement room with her.

  Sable frowned at her line of thought and then at the incredible view stretched out before her beyond the brow of the hill.

  The others caught up with them and Thorne led Loren forwards, to a clearing where the trees on the other side of the hill were lower. She could see for miles even in the low light and couldn’t believe her eyes.

  It wasn’t the village nestled in the valley below that had caught her attention, or even the fenced off areas that had colourful things growing under lamps in them.

  It was the huge towering white wind turbines on the hill across from her. They whirled slowly, spinning at a mesmerising pace that had her staring and losing track of her surroundings.

  “I must admit, Thorne, that I admire your ingenuity. I had not thought to bring such a thing into my realm,” Loren said, snapping her back to the world.

  Thorne stood beside him, his back to her and his sword stabbed into the ground beside him, one hand resting idly on the guard.

  “I saw them on a visit to the mortal world. I am also investigating utilising steam from the thermal vents in my kingdom to create more power stations. Then, we will be able to generate enough electricity to power special ultraviolet lamps and we will be able to grow other crops.”

  Sable couldn’t help but admire him too. He really was trying to make his land better and she could see that he wanted to improve it for his people. He cared deeply for them.

  Thorne swept his hand out across the landscape. “What you see here is only the beginning of my plans. I intend to provide farms for the widowed females and those who would like to work. They have volunteered to begin running new projects, such as farming animals of the mortal world. We are to begin with chickens and then cows. Many of the males are as pleased by this as the females. Chickens and cows means eggs and milk and other dairy produce much loved by everyone here. Those with females have grown accustomed to a broader variety of foods. Eggs were new to me until recently, but I will confess they tasted good.”

  His gaze darted to her and then back again. She smiled at his confession, remembering how he had made food for her when she had been hung over.

  “What about pigs?” she said and he looked at her again and nodded.

  “We would eventually like to bring pigs and sheep. We can use the animals for a variety of resources,
not only for food.”

  He was thinking like a true king and she wanted to tell him so, but knew that if she mentioned that he was a good king like his father had been, that he wouldn’t appreciate it. He had told her things in confidence too and she would keep them secret for him.

  “We also intend to open schools,” Thorne said and lifted his gaze to meet Loren’s. “I would like to make a good education available to all in my land.”

  That made her smile. He wanted the best for his people. It was noble of him, and again she wanted to reach out and lay her hand on his arm to gain his attention and tell him that he was a good king.

  Thorne’s attention drifted down to her and she hid her smile, trying to hold on to her anger over what he had said to Bleu and his childish behaviour. Her anger faded and she let her smile out again when she saw in Thorne’s eyes and sensed in him that he needed to know what she thought of him now. She looked up into his eyes, letting him see that she admired him for trying to make this realm a better place for his people and how strongly he fought to protect them from others.

  “Educated demons. Now there is a frightening thought.” Grave’s snide remark went ignored. His face darkened and he bared his fangs at Kyal. Picking on the weakest in the group? Perhaps Thorne and Bleu weren’t the only grown men in their party capable of childish behaviour.

  Kyal ignored him too and continued stripping off, shoving his trousers down with something akin to pride. Sable averted her gaze. Seriously. Werewolves had no shame.

  He growled, snarled, and when she looked to check on him, a huge tawny wolf was staring at her, his golden eyes bright in the low light. He snorted, shook all over, and then took off.

  “We won’t see him for a few hours. He needed a run,” Kincaid said close to her elbow and she looked up at the older, brunet werewolf.

  His eyes matched Kyal’s wolf’s golden ones, but his were bright with amusement not hunger. He gathered Kyal’s clothes.

  A howl sounded in the distance.

  Kincaid dropped the clothes. “Kyal has a scent.”

  The older werewolf stripped off and had transformed before she could even look away, becoming a huge rich brown wolf.

  Finally, she could fight something and prove to these irritating men that she deserved to be out on this hunt with them.

  She was the best huntress at Archangel and they were going to know it.

  Kincaid tore off after Kyal with Grave hot on his heels. Thorne and Bleu shot off after them.

  A flaw in her plan presented itself.

  Sable didn’t have super-speed or the ability to teleport.

  Loren offered her a consolatory smile. “We could conduct our own hunt?”

  She shook her head. “Thanks for sticking with me, Big Guy, and for trying to cheer me up, but I think I’ll pass.”

  She stared off in the direction everyone had headed, trying to convince herself that she wasn’t annoyed and disappointed that everyone had left her behind, even Thorne, and that she had better things to do anyway. She should probably focus on getting her hunters ready for the next battle.

  Who needed this male-bonding crap?

  She continued to stare off into the distance, her senses stretching outwards, searching for Thorne.

  “How would I know if I was Thorne’s fated one?” Sable let the words slip out quietly, pretending that she hadn’t just voiced them to Loren and that she wasn’t counting the seconds until he replied.

  “You already know in your heart that you are his mate, Sable. You can deny the signs if you desire, but you have dreamed of him, with him, have you not?” A blush of colour rose onto his pale cheeks when she nodded. “And you feel a connection to him?”

  She nodded again and his expression said it all.

  “You think I’m his mate?”

  “I knew the moment I met Thorne and saw his reaction to you. He desired you greatly and looked as I had felt when I had first met Olivia… filled with a need to have you.”

  Sable’s cheeks burned and she couldn’t bring herself to look at Loren.

  He looked away too. “I apologise for my crude words.”

  Sable shook her head. “It’s okay, really. I just wanted to know if there was a chance he only fancied me like Bleu does.”

  Loren’s face fell, his demeanour darkening with it. “What the two males are feeling are entirely different things.”

  She had thought as much. “Thorne says I make him crazy.”

  She felt a little crazy herself around him at times, driven wild with need for him but afraid of the consequences. Eternity was a long time.

  Loren smiled and looked back towards the castle through the trees. “You are definitely his fated one then. Olivia made me mad with a need to claim her as my female and fight any male who tried to take her from me, even if the threat was only perceived and not real.”

  “Sounds like Thorne,” Sable said and looked down at her wrist as it ached. She had Loren alone. Now was a perfect time to steer the conversation towards the mark on her wrist.

  She tried to get the words to line up on her tongue but they wouldn’t come. Why could she talk with the prince about her man trouble but couldn’t talk to him about something that she desperately needed answers to? It wasn’t like her to talk about personal things with anyone at all, but her relationship with Thorne certainly felt more personal than her possible non-human parentage.

  Loren was five thousand years old and knew a lot about fae and demons. If anyone could tell her what the symbol on her wrist meant and where her strange powers had come from, and point her towards answers, it was him.

  She had to do this.

  She had to speak to him, and to Olivia, just as Thorne had told her to. They would understand. They wouldn’t think she was a freak because she had a weird ability and a tattoo that had probably been there since her birth.

  Sable cleared her throat.

  A feral roar shattered the silence, coming from the direction the others had run.

  Her nerve failed. “You should probably go and catch up with the guys. Tell them thanks for leaving me behind.”

  She gathered the clothes the werewolves had shed and bundled them up in her arms.

  “If you are sure. It is probably best I am there. I would like to maintain good relations between the demons and my race, no matter how fiercely Bleu tries to ruin them.” He held his hand out to her and smiled. “I will give you a lift back to the castle. I believe Thorne lost his head when Kyal sent out the call and rushed off without thinking about your safety, and I would lose mine if he found out I had left you to walk back alone.”

  Sable nodded, adjusted the clothes in her arms, and took his hand. He drew her up against him, curled his arm around her and she closed her eyes, trying not to imagine it was Thorne who held her tucked close to his chest as they teleported.

  When the weird sensation of teleporting had passed, she opened her eyes, finding herself in the courtyard again. She stepped out of Loren’s arms and dumped the clothes on the ground. She had been nice enough to bring them back but that was where her kindness ended. The wolves shouldn’t have left them out in the woods.

  Loren nodded and disappeared in a flash of blue-purple light.

  Sable looked up at the hill in the far distance.

  Her wrist itched and burned. Her senses blared a warning.

  She looked around the courtyard, searching for the source of the disturbance in her gift. No one was looking at her, but she felt sure that someone had been a moment ago.

  Her gaze met one of the vampire’s and he frowned at her and then turned and walked into the castle, disappearing into the darkness.

  The vampire who had come out to collect Grave that night on the balcony. He was probably wondering why she had returned and his commander hadn’t.

  She looked back at the hill.

  A tight feeling formed in the pit of her stomach.

  Sable shook it off and turned towards her men, intent on reclaiming their respect and put
ting both Bleu and Thorne out of her head.

  CHAPTER 17

  Sable stood to one side of the space they had commandeered in the courtyard of Thorne’s dark castle, watching Evan as he sparred with two of the other men in her team. She studied his every move, nodding in approval at some of the ways he tricked his opponents into lowering their guards. Most of the team had retired for the day, heading back inside the castle to wash up and prepare for this evening’s feast.

  Her gaze drifted up to the sky. It was growing darker. She could distinguish between the day and night now, and even between those times and twilight and dawn. She was also becoming accustomed to other things, such as the constant presence of huge demon males as they went about their business, and the eerie calls that echoed in the distance at times. This realm was beginning to feel normal to her. She no longer found the grim colour of everything strange, or the wind unusual.

  If they had to stay here much longer, she would probably end up feeling at home in this place and out of sorts in her own world.

  Evan landed a heavy blow on the youngest of his opponents. The brunet hit the deck hard and his companion rushed over to him.

  “Shit. Sorry.” Evan crouched beside him and helped him into a sitting position. “You okay?”

  The younger man nodded and rubbed his jaw.

  “Let’s call it a day.” Sable ambled over to them and offered the two younger hunters a smile to show them that she meant her next words. “You both did really well. Head in and have a good soak.”

  The two men nodded and Evan rose to his feet and pulled the brunet onto his. He watched them heading towards the large arched doorway of the main three-storey building of the dark grey castle and then turned back to face her. His lips curved into a wicked smile.

  “You want to play?” he said, his deep voice filled with a bright but teasing note.