by A C Wilds
“If you keep doing that, we might not make the briefing.”
“What if I don’t care about stupid meetings?”
I bite his lip, teasing him to open for me. His tongue circles mine, and the sweet sensuality of the movement makes me drag my body up and straddle him again.
He grabs my hips, putting me exactly where I need to be. His hardness presses right at my opening. I pull away from his lips and sit up, looking down at my mate. Something passes between us, and he lowers me slowly on him.
I groan out a blissful noise, still enjoying the moment. He sits up and takes a nipple into his mouth as I run my fingers through his hair, pushing my breasts up to give him better access.
And then I move.
Slowly at first, getting used to the new position. My pussy grips every part of his enormous shaft. I slide up and down until his eyes flash ruby and a glint of fang peeks from his lips. Inhaling a sharp breath, I stare, mesmerized.
“I won’t feed on you unless you tell me to.”
He trails kisses over my collarbone and across my chest. The thought of the pain from his fangs and the pleasure of him pounding into me makes me release an unsteady breath. I want this.
“Do it.”
It comes out husky and broken. A whisper, but enough for him to study me seriously. I pump up and down as I bite my lip hard enough to draw blood. The bead of red sits on my bottom lip, daring him to take it.
His eyes ignite with flames as he licks it from my lips. “Exquisite. Now I want more.”
I tilt my head to the side, moving my hair to give him an unobstructed view. Continuing to move my hips slowly, I clench my pussy with every raise. His entire body tenses, then his fangs are inside my neck. I cry out.
It hurts.
And then his saliva mixes with the pain, and I come so hard I have to hold on to him to prevent myself from falling. An animalistic moan comes from his mouth as he cradles me to him. He thrusts his hips up, leaving me caged between his fangs and cock.
He pulls off my neck, licking the wound. A chill rushes through me as he gazes into my eyes, mouth coated in my blood. When he licks his lips, I slam my mouth on his, wanting to taste the coppery essence. He drives into me, making me croak in ecstasy.
The wave builds and I come crashing down again, my orgasm prolonged by his madding thrusts. He comes shortly after, pulling me in tightly and burying his face in my breasts.
We both crash to the bed, but I flip on my back this time. My body was so cold, but now all I feel is heat everywhere.
A knock sounds on the door. Before I can cover myself, a furious Mammon barges into the room. I reach for the sheet, but it’s caught all over our legs.
“Get out,” Torque roars.
Mammon closes his eyes as he marches back out. That wasn’t embarrassing at all.
“I’m sorry. Let me see what he wants, then I want to hold you until we have to go meet up with everyone else.”
He slides from the bed, pulls his underwear on, and leaves. I admire the view before getting out of bed to head into the bathroom. After I run the shower as hot as it can go, I climb in.
Even though someone cleaned me off earlier, I can still feel the death coating my skin. I killed Scur. A demon who has been haunting my dreams for weeks. It’s finally over.
Reaching over to grab the shampoo, I lather my hair. It’s a tangled mess, but I get it under control before putting conditioner in it. Soaping my body next, I run my fingers down between my legs and wince at how sore I am.
Sex was never something I enjoyed before. I wasn’t a virgin, but close to it. There was a guy on a mission a long time ago who took care of that. I have had no one since.
The shower door opens. Torque slips in, running his hair under the water. His eyes close, and he lets out a long sigh.
“What happened?”
“Theron has confessed some disturbing news about the Bloodlands. There are forces back home that wanted to see Scur dethroned, but they didn’t want me back. There is a renegade sanction calling themselves the Blood Laws. It appears I’m going to travel to court.”
Turning around to face him, I grab the soap off the shelf. I rub it over his chest and arms, a mechanical process rather than a sexual one. I want to show him that I care outside of having sex.
“I’m going to stay here. I need to connect with the Darklands. As much as I hate you going alone, you need to do this by yourself. Too much change might not be good, especially if you have to deal with rebels.”
“I don’t want to be separated. We’ve only just mated, and it doesn’t feel right to leave you.”
He kisses the top of my head as he pulls me into a hug. Looking up into his face, I see the worry there. Not only for me, but also for the things he’s going to do.
“We will meet here in a few weeks. If we’re going to take down Rahna, we need a united front. As much as I’d like to go back to the Mortal Realm and kill her now, we’d lose without an army.”
He lets me go as I make him turn so I can wash his back. My hand runs up and down his shoulders and the tight muscles in his trapezius, trying to get some knots out.
“Can I not like that you’re right?”
“You can, but it won’t change anything.”
I kiss his back before rinsing the conditioner from my hair and stepping out, grabbing the fluffy white towel off the rack. After I hand the other to Torque, we dry off as we walk into the bedroom.
They’ve brought clothes in for me. Leggings and a tunic, something I normally wouldn’t wear, but it’s better than the dress. And I’d rather not wear Torque’s boxers again. However, they were comfortable, if not a little weird.
“Let’s go find Nox and Uriel. I’d like to fill them in on our plan,” I say, slipping on my shoes.
“I’m sure they’re in the dining hall. He’s calling for a celebration tonight. With the grounds a mess, I think we’re eating in the formal dining room.”
“Wonderful. More stuck-up people who are going to judge me. I honestly hate being at court. I can’t wait to go back home.”
A tinge of sadness crosses his face at the mention of home. I don’t think Torque ever considered the Mortal Realm to be his.
I belt Hubris to my side, then make my way out the door. A furious Mammon sits at the table, tapping his foot.
“You’re that bothered by a small group of rebels?” I ask, watching him get up and pace to the door.
“They’re not only rebels. Apparently, the Blood Law has attempted to take the capital and nearly succeeded. It is in our best interests to get back now. I won’t see my homeland destroyed.”
“I’m not arguing with you, Mammon. Please find someone else to pick a fight with.” I push past him out the door, leaving Torque to deal with him.
“Anima, I didn’t mean it like that. Being here in battle has my blood boiling. There isn’t a time where I haven’t been a general in this realm. It’s making me anxious.”
I stop my stride and pivot toward him, putting my hand on his shoulder. “I may not know what it’s like to be at war, but I know what it’s like to care about something so much you feel like it’s your own. Torque will travel with you to the Bloodlands.”
Relief spreads on his face as he pats my hand on his shoulder.
“You’ll make a good queen.”
“No labels, Mammon, or we’ll be here for a week. Everyone wants to call me something new. I’m just Anima. Nothing else.”
Sixteen
ANIMA
The dining hall is filled with demons. I saw some the night of the ball, but others here are foreign to me. A page runs up to Torque and me, leading us over to a dais similar to the ballroom's thrones.
Nox and Uriel sit side by side with Umbra and her men to their left. I’m glad to see them all unharmed. A knot I didn’t know I was carrying loosens in my chest.
Torque and I take a seat to the right of Nox. He stands and gives me a gentle kiss on the cheek before returning to his seat. The entire dining hall has eyes
on us. I squirm at the scrutiny.
“How are you feeling?” Uriel says, leaning over Nox. His gaze runs over me, checking for injuries.
“Better. My magic is back, and I’m feeling more like myself. How did everyone fare? How many casualties?”
I take a sip of the wine a servant gives me. It takes like regular wine but with a chocolate aftertaste. I prefer the demonwine from the ball.
“We lost fifty soldiers. I would say that’s a good number for the attack we faced. We could have lost a lot more,” Nox says, picking up his own glass and taking a sip.
“I’d like to know more about strategy. If I’m going to take Rahna down, I have to assume she’ll have an army. My strength is in the killing, not in planning.”
“I think that’s an excellent idea. If you were at court when you were a child, you’d have taken classes in it.”
Wishing what could have been isn’t something I want to dwell on. I don’t know if my life would have been easier here. A lot of things could have gone wrong.
“I must go back to the Bloodlands,” Torque says, bringing their attention off me. I sit back in my seat and pick at the food placed in front of me.
The other demons all seem to celebrate, talking and laughing. There are long tables set up, all piled high with fresh foods and wine. A musician plays an instrument in the corner. It looks like a guitar, but the sound is different.
I spot some nobleman and their families that I’d met at the ball, but their demeanor is so different. There’s a light feel to the room. Scur must have been a death cloud over more than just the Bloods.
Zoning out, I listen to the music and enjoy the atmosphere, returning a few glances my way with a tight smile Right as Torque finishes rehashing the details of the Bloodlands, a boom rocks the room.
My chest tightens. I cry out, falling off the chair. Torque stills in his chair, his eyes going cloudy. Uriel rushes forward and pulls me in close while Nox checks on Torque.
“Anima, what’s happening?” Uriel asks, trying to ignore the panic in the room.
“Namir,” I croak out, trying to get up from the floor. Uriel assists me as I stand on shaking legs. “Take me to him. The courtyard. He’s here.”
Uriel doesn’t hesitate. He lifts me in his arms before flying us out the open balcony window.
The night air hits my skin, cooling me off. Namir’s panic floods through my veins, and I wince in pain. Something isn’t right, and I can’t hear him this far away.
Shouts echo from below us as demons start to realize something is out of place. As we touch down in the courtyard, Namir tumbles through the gate, landing on us.
Uriel jumps out of the way, but I outstretch my arms. Accepting his weight, I tumble with him to the ground.
Magic flares between us, and a shockwave hits the courtyard. It explodes out of us in black and white smoke, cloaking us in thick cinders.
He rubs his head all over my face as he pulls me into his body, rolling to the side so he doesn’t hurt me. Blood seeps from his side. Immediately, as if I know what I’m supposed to do, I outstretch my hand and pulse my holy magic into his wound.
A burst of gold radiates from my hand, and the surrounding smoke clears. Namir lets out a sigh of relief as I heal him, taking some of my magic to replenish himself.
“What happened?” I ask once he’s sitting up and licking my face.
They attacked us. Holy magic near the Bloodlands. Not enough to call on an army, but she’s testing her usage of the portals. I didn’t think she’d sense us.
Shock skitters through me. Rahna is in the Demon Realm. We’ve run out of time, and there is still so much to do. How are we going to defeat her in the Demon Realm? She must know all the factions are divided.
“Torque!”
“I’m here,” he says from behind me. His hand goes to my neck, gently massaging it in a possessive gesture. “Ari told me. I need to get to the Bloodlands tonight to unite my people. I have a feeling the rebels may aid Rahna.”
You must get to the Death king. There is no other way. Rahna’s powers are too great for you to handle alone.
“What? Namir, why?” I ask, my brows scrunched in confusion. If what everyone is saying is true, I’d like to stay as far away as possible from the Deathlands.
His power is anti-holy magic. He can suck it in and destroy it. Rahna will be no match for him. Your powers are impressive, but your magic can’t take in that much holy magic.
I stare at him for a long time before nodding. Getting up from the ground, I turn to the crowd gathered around us. Nox and Uriel come closer, consideration etches on their faces.
Umbra and her guys stand to the side with the rest of the army. Seeing all these people together, knowing they have families and lives—how could I, in good conscience disregard my duty? Too many innocents will die if I don’t take a chance.
“I’m going to the Deathlands. We need the Death king.”
They fill the entire war room with shouts and anger. As I sit in my chair, I wait for them to calm down. I know it was a shock to hear my plan, but they aren’t even considering that I’m going whether they argue or not.
Namir roars from the doorway, making everyone shut up. He trots to my side and sits, looking like he’s the king of them all.
“Now that I have your attention, you all need to sit down. I have a plan, but if you all keep arguing, you’ll never find out what it is,” I demand, waiting for them to obey.
Most don’t look happy about me making demands, but fuck it. I’m the heir, and I’m going to use all my powers to stop Rahna from ruining the realms.
“Namir has brought news from the portal near the Bloodlands—the same one Torque and I entered when we came from the Mortal Realm. Rahna has breached it, and she’s sending in witches to decimate the demons. They aren’t as strong yet, but it’s only a matter of time.”
“What does she want?” Umbra asks. She’s on the edge of her seat, hands white-knuckling the table. An unknown force is the scariest.
“Me. She wants me.” I sigh, closing my eyes for a moment. Time to get this all out. “I can shape holy magic. While I’m the product of Nox and Uriel’s soul merge, I’m also a witch. She must have injected my DNA with something or used magic to create me.”
“What do you mean you can shape it?” Nox asks.
“I can warp it. Turn it into anything I want. I can control it.”
A shudder goes through most of the room. I’m too powerful. They won’t be as comfortable as they were with me.
“Fuck,” Togmerin says.
“Yeah. I don’t like it either, but she created me to use the magic and change it how she sees fit. I won’t be her puppet. We need to get the magic back from her, and the only way to do that is to find Caedis. He is anti-holy magic. The evil magic, the one thing that can negate her power.”
The only sound is Namir’s heavy breathing. Absentmindedly, I reach out and rub his cheeks. He purrs, pushing his head into my hand. A comfort in all this.
“Then we go to the Deathlands. It’s the only way,” Umbra says. Her head held high, chin out, she dares anyone to contradict her.
“No,” all of her mates say at once. She cuts them a glare, and they wince. Vargroth downcasts his eyes, and Togmerin glares in frustration. I chuckle under my breath. My aunt is growing on me.
“I will lead Anima to the Deathlands. Nox, I think it’s important for you to stay behind, and, as you’ve said, Torque, you’ll be returning to the Bloodlands. She will need a guide,” Umbra says.
“You are not going alone,” Uriel says, his anger palpable.
“Do you not trust me?” I ask, grinning. There’s no one in this room more deadly than I am. Torque and Nox take second place, but I wasn’t the lead assassin because I was a coward.
“I trust you, but I don’t trust Caedis.” He grits his teeth, and a tick in his jaw shows me how much he hates the other guy.
“Why? I know he’s the Death king, but is it personal?”
“Yes, and that’s all I’m going to say. We also take Umbra’s mates.”
I go to object, but he cuts me off. “Either we do this my way, or I’ll lock you in the dungeon and keep you there until this whole thing is over.”
Smoke drifts out of my hands, and Namir growls low. “Even if you are a piece of my soul, my father, you will not talk to me like that. I’m not a child. I’m more experienced in death than you could imagine. Don’t treat me like a princess because I’m not.”
I stand from the chair, then walk out. There isn’t anything left to say. I need to hit someone or something, so I follow the trail Umbra and I made the first day.
Outside, I see the same building we trained in. A light is on, and a few soldiers are sparring. I take Hubris off, and I lay him on a table in the center of the room.
My shoes come off next, and I stretch to take out the last of the kinks from my energy drain. A heavy bag is in the room’s corner with a shelf full of gloves and tape next to it.
I make quick work getting my hands prepped. Tapping the bag once, I send it swinging. The pull of the movements brings me under. Before long, I’m dragged into a sequence.
The sweat pours down my back, and I feel incredible. The boost of energy from beating this bag with my strength and no magic grounds me. Reminds me where I’m from and how much I don’t belong in this world. I’m made to protect the humans.
“Want to spar?” a male voice asks.
I grab onto the bag to stop it from swinging before turning to the guy behind me. He’s tall, but most people are taller than me. His body is lean and strong, like an athlete or a dancer.
“No magic. I want to work my muscles.”
He nods, motioning me to the mat. I tear off the gloves and wraps as I go, leaving them on the edge of the mat. I’ll clean up after.
A small circle of guys has gathered to watch our match. They assume the short witch can’t handle a big, powerful man without her magic. The thought makes me smile.
We circle each other. My hands hang loosely at my side as I study the way he moves. His left foot drags on the mat when he steps with his right—maybe an old injury?