by C. A. Worley
Viktor’s trembling hands reached for the tiny being. She fidgeted and stretched. He was careful with her, terrified he’d drop her or damage her in some way.
He brought her to his chest and bounced gently as he’d been told to do during what Eden called Father-School. For weeks, he’d watched and listened aptly as the midwives taught him how to care for an infant.
Eden moaned. “What … it shouldn’t be this painful again.”
The midwife’s pinched face glanced at Viktor, then back to Eden. She patted the new mother’s belly, then pushed down.
Eden screamed and Viktor snarled ferociously.
“I swear I will remove your head, woman!”
“You might want to wait until the other one comes out.”
Viktor blinked. “What did you say?”
“It seems there is another.”
“Another what?” he snapped.
“Dragon,” the woman snapped back.
“What?!” Eden shrieked.
“Babe, dear. There’s another, and you need to push.”
Eden concentrated, pushing and holding it for the count of ten. She did it once more and a screaming babe came into the world.
“It’s a boy,” the midwife announced, “Loud and angry. Like his father.”
Eden sank with relief, watching the female clean off her son before placing him upon her chest. Her arms wrapped around him and she wept.
Nothing had been wrong with the heartbeat. The echo had been two heartbeats, so similar in their rhythm they were indistinguishable from one another.
“Sire, are you okay?” the midwife asked.
Viktor was wiping at his eyes. “I’m fine,” his gruff voice reprimanded. “See to my wife and do not concern yourself with me.”
“Come here, Husband,” Eden beamed, despite the strained effects of her labor.
Viktor sat down next to her pillow. He bent and kissed Eden’s lips, then nuzzled his son’s pale brunette head, as he had done to his daughter.
“You’ve given me the greatest of any possible gift, moj vestica.”
“A son?”
Viktor shook his head.
“Two offspring?” she teased, wanting to lighten his mood.
“No.”
“What did I give you, love?” she asked, using the endearment he liked to use on her.
“My heart. You gave me back … my heart.”
Viktor kissed Eden again, then nuzzled the babes once more. He remained leaning over his wife and children protectively, his body shaking with emotion.
The midwife finished cleaning up and left the new family to bond. She vowed she would never tell a soul of the King’s sobs echoing off the walls of his chambers.
Kings of Prajna, after all, did not cry. That was an honor reserved for only the most loving of fathers. She was pleased he was a male worthy enough to fill both roles.
Smiling to herself, she whistled down the hall, feeling lighter than she had in a hundred years. The tide was turning and her services were sure to be needed once again.
The End
Continue reading for a sneak peak at The Demon King’s Destiny.
Note From Author
Thank you so much for reading The Vampire King’s Mate! Evelyn’s story is next. Then … who knows? Keep turning the pages for a sneak peek at The Demon King’s Destiny.
This series is my first attempt at writing something where humor is not the star of the show. There are snippets, of course, but it’s not my usual in-your-face nonsense. This is one of the reasons I released it under a different name.
If you’re new to my work, the bulk of my publications are penned under the Cass Alexander moniker. It’s the name I use when I’m feeling the funny—which has been every moment of my life until this series.
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Excerpt from The Demon King’s Destiny.
Evelyn’s bare feet danced atop the soft grass at the edge of the forest. The summer moon’s light created unnatural beams of purple and blue spearing through the trees.
Bright and shimmering, these were the colors of her dreams. Since her mother died, the forest and moonlight had been the backdrop of every sleeping fantasy she could remember.
She always came back to this spot, at the edge of the clearing near her home. It was a familiar place, a location she visited often with Eden and Nora during her waking hours. In the clearing, they played as sisters did. Echoes of their laughter often broke through to her dreamworld.
Evelyn did not know what was so special about the area or why she was anchored to it when she slept. She’d tried over the years to drift along the edge or back to her house. Each attempt either landed her back in this exact spot or woke her from slumber.
As always, she could feel the magic floating in the air. She had been taught from a young age to trust the elements and listen when they spoke.
When she had finally learned to control her powers, somewhere around the age of six, she’d opened herself up in her dreams, allowing her magics into her dreamworld.
Even in sleep the elements spoke. Only whispers of what they were when she was awake, but they were with her in her dreams. Always.
By now, she’d figured out her nocturnal activities weren’t normal. Something, other than her own power, pulled her here, again and again. Some force hauled her here every time she drifted off.
A few times, she’d not been alone. Evelyn didn’t like thinking about those particular nights from her childhood. She could still feel the phantom cold of the malevolent demon’s power.
A noise off to the left caught her attention. A wolf stood not twenty yards away, staring at her. She wasn’t surprised. She’d met a wolf today, so her mind was creating images of the familiar.
Her sister, Eden, had been betrothed to the Wolf King of the North. Evelyn was still thinking of when their younger sister, Nora, came barreling into the room and stole the show, or, in this case, the wolf.
Kellan claimed Nora was his fated mated. His behavior supported the claim, and he insisted on renegotiating the betrothal, switching Eden out for Nora.
Their poor father was beside himself. Eden was relieved. Evelyn felt a pang of jealousy. No one could gauge what Nora was feeling.
A twig cracked to her right and she swung her head around. She was met with a vampire’s hypnotic gaze. He was as tall as the trees and carried a flame in his open palm.
Further proof she was in her dreamworld. No vampire was this size in real life, nor could they wield fire. Her sister, Eden, could. It was her greatest power.
The elements vibrated across the clearing, moving and shifting of their own accord.
Evelyn quickly realized this dream was not going to be like the others. She forced herself to pay attention, to commit it all to memory. Magic was speaking and she would never discount it’s story.
Up ahead, Evelyn could make out the outline of an elderly male. Long, scraggly, hair framed the face of what had to be Theron, the Temple Priest of Sanctus Femina. He’d visited her dreams before. Slowly, he raised his finger to his lips in a silencing gesture.
A shadow stepped out from behind the priest. It grew bigger as it strode confidently towards her.
Through the glimmering light, she saw the reflecting shine of dark hair. It gave off an almost bluish tint. Tanned skin stretched over toned muscles. The shirt he wore did nothing to hide his physique.
He was exactly as she’d remembered. Well, maybe a little less enraged.
; Moonbeams danced upon his face, revealing obsidian eyes. She didn’t like it when his eyes dilated. Evelyn had only seen eyes bleed black like that once. Once had been enough.
“Hello, poppet,” his abnormally deep voice rubbed like velvet against her skin, taking her by surprise.
“My name is not poppet. It’s Evelyn.”
“Bold as ever, I see.”
“You—you remember me?” she stammered, surprised he recognized her. Much had changed on her body since she was six.
It had been nearly a decade since she’d seen him in her dreamworld. Even then, it had only been the briefest of encounters.
“How could I forget?”
His voice was laced with some emotion she couldn’t name, causing her to blush. “I suppose you would recognize your surroundings. They’re always the same here. Nothing ever changes.”
Marrok ignored her misinterpretation of his wording. His eyes wandered while he spoke, noting both a wolf and a vampire were close.
“It’s your dream, little one. I imagine you can make anything happen here.”
“One would think,” she scoffed.
Marrok studied her intently. The girl was an elemental. She was a teenager now, but there was no question she was the same female who had summoned him that night a decade ago. The same long auburn hair now hung in loose braids. Her mismatched eyes were ones Fate would never allow him to forget.
One eye was green, the shade of the spring fields in the Westland. It was the coloring of the elementals who lived in Gwydion.
The other eye was of a color he’d only seen on a demon. Amber with flecks of gold and russet, identical to his own. Even her skin was darker than other elementals. Bronzed—like a demon’s. Like his.
If not for her one green eye and the color of her tresses, he might think the female a she-demon. The hair of both Sundari females and males only came in two colors. Black or white. Never any other variation.
Her long locks of auburn were striking. Her peculiar eyes fascinating. But it was the attraction of his soul to hers that had him in knots.
It was no coincidence he’d not been able to prevent her from pulling him into her dream again. Feeling the presence of the old man at his back, he wondered if she’d had help.
“What am I doing here?” he asked.
“You tell me.”
“I’m not the one summoning people in the middle of the night.”
“I did no such thing.”
“You sure about that?”
Eden’s chest rose and fell. Prickles of sweat seeped from her pores. His voice was magic itself, pushing against her, cocooning her in its warmth.
“Stop doing that,” she commanded.
His eyes narrowed. “I’m not doing anything to you.”
“You are. Your voice … it’s …” she couldn’t finish.
Marrok couldn’t see the flush under her olive skin, but he was sure it was there. It was the early signs of the saatus bond. The moment he first saw her, even though she’d been a youngling, he’d known what she was to him.
Fate was never subtle with its signs of matehood, especially with the demons. No, when a demon saw his saatus—his true mate—he knew.
Now she was closing in on adulthood, he could feel the mild pull. Luckily, she was still too young for it to push either of them into the mating frenzy.
It was dangerous for her to be dragging him into her dreams. He wasn’t sure how powerful the draw could be while their bodies weren’t touching, or if it would matter while he dreamwalked. If this was any indication, it would become a problem if she was but a little older.
If circumstances were different, in a few years, he would bring an army to her father’s doorstep and demand her hand. Nothing, not even the Goddess herself, would keep him away from her.
Alas, he did not have that luxury. It was starting to look like he never would. His past being what it was … coupled with the troubles of the present? He couldn’t afford to look hopefully to the future.
The Sundari Kingdom was in the middle of a crisis, one he was barely containing. His worst fear was this calamity would spill over the Southland borders and spread throughout Imperium.
His drastic measures had barely made a dent. At least the madness hadn’t gone further than the southernmost peninsula. Well, aside from the random rogue here and there making it past his blockade.
Life was too dangerous in the Southland for an elemental. It was better for her to forget she’d ever met him, even if only in a dream. His demon soul protested and Marrok silenced it.
“What’s wrong?” she questioned, taking a step towards him.
“Nothing. Why do you ask?” He hadn’t so much as blinked while wrestling with his inner demon.
“Your pupils constricted. Usually, they’re so big I can’t see the amber of your eyes … or, they were the last time I saw you. I think it’s because you’re easily agitated.”
“Then what, pray tell, am I if not agitated for being dragged here? Unwillingly, I might add.”
“Sad? Or unhappy? Whatever it is, you’re lamenting. It’s not your best look.”
His lip quirked. She was precocious, especially for a female of her age. Females rarely spoke so informally in his presence, if they spoke at all.
All demons, especially she-demons, could intuitively sense the emotional state of others. Their powers were rooted in the energies of the mind. Though those around him could sense his moods, they never called him out on it.
Little Evelyn—a virtual stranger—had been able to do it with a single look.
“Observant little thing, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
Marrok chuckled, tempted to continue the conversation. She was fascinating. He could tell her mind was sharp. Beguiling. And that was a very dangerous thing, a temptation he might not be capable of fighting.
Standing this close, mere feet apart, his nostrils flared. Even through the barrier he could pick up her scent. She smelled like midnight dew on a desert rose.
He shouldn’t be here. Marrok needed to make sure she didn’t call to him in her sleep again. If, by some miracle, he found a way to quell the insurrection occurring in Sundari, he would consider seeking her out once she was of age.
If not, well, he didn’t want to think about what would happen if he and his people turned rogue. He needed to be very clear with Evelyn to stay away from him.
Fate was playing a perilous game bringing them together. Marrok would never do anything to endanger his mate, even if it cost him his own sanity. She didn’t deserve to be caught up in his struggles.
“Listen to me carefully, Evelyn. Do not call for me again. This game, it’s not one you can win.”
Her eyebrows drew tight, irritated by his incessant presumption she was somehow responsible for his arrival.
“What game?”
“The one you don’t even know you’re playing,” he clipped.
Marrok turned and marched back into the forest. Evelyn wanted to call out to him, but Theron drifted back into sight, his kaleidoscope eyes swirled with shades of violet and gold.
He pointed towards the wolf, who was now standing next to Nora. Then to the vampire. Eden stood at his side. All four were focused on the demon’s retreating back.
Theron’s eyes twinkled as he once again made a silencing gesture. Saatus he whispered in her mind.
The pieces clicked into place and Evelyn smiled.
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