by Katie May
He resembled the demons I had read about as a child.
He leaned forward until his face was in the crook of my neck and inhaled deeply. My jaw clenched.
“She doesn’t smell like much.” His voice lilted with an unfamiliar accent. It wasn’t one I had heard before. Native to the Vampire region?
“She doesn’t have to smell like much to still be our Champion,” the Incubus King drawled lazily.
“I still don’t understand how that can be!” This outburst was, of course, from the Mermaid King. Envious bastards. I knew they would be upset that a Mermaid hadn’t won the competition. Though, if I wasn’t mistaken, a Mermaid hadn’t even made it to the top ten.
“What’s your name?” This next voice was not belligerent but not necessarily kind. I swiveled my head towards the shadows, somewhat surprised that the Shadow King was speaking to me directly.
From the gaping mouths of the other men present, they felt the same.
I quickly caught my bearings, standing straighter.
“Z,” I answered firmly.
“Z…” He said my name as if he was testing it, tasting it on his tongue.
“Not Zara?” The Genie’s King voice was tinged with amusement.
Zara was the name of the woman I was impersonating - a blond bimbo that served as the maid and lover of Z. Basically, I was the perceived lover of myself.
Diego had had a field day with that knowledge.
At the thought of my best friend, my mood instantly turned somber.
“My name is Z,” I said sharply. I had thought I had overstepped when the Genie King’s eyes flared brightly, but the Shadow King merely threw back his head in laughter. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant. It sounded almost...normal. As if he was familiar with laughing.
“I like her. She has fire.”
“She’s a female.” I didn’t even have to look to know that it would be the Shifter King who had spoken. “And she’s a human.”
“But she won the Damning,” the Shadow King pointed out. Was I mistaken or did he sound...smug?
“That she did.”
Silence. Sudden and pronounced, suffocating me as if I was buried below twenty feet of black, sticky tar. I resisted the urge to fidget.
I was in the room of my enemies, the monsters I had been tasked to kill, and there was nothing I could do about it. The knife in my sleeve suddenly felt ten-times heavier.
How easy it would be to slice through flesh and tendon and bone…
There was a certain way you had to hold a knife for maximum impact. Lightly gripped between your fingers, the copper handle resting on your palm, an extension of your hand. A fluid flick of your wrist…
“The situation is different,” the Incubus King agreed with a nod. My eyes, unbidden, flickered towards him, and I sucked in a breath. He was gorgeous. I hadn’t expected anything else from a descendant of lust, but it wasn’t even his unnaturally good looks that caused my heart to hammer. It was the power he exuded in waves. Even from where I stood, liquid heat settled in my core. I had the need to rub my thighs together to alleviate the ache.
I noticed Lupe sniff, eyes heating with lust. No doubt, he could smell my arousal. If he could smell it…
The Vampire King laughed giddily, slapping his thigh for emphasis.
“Better tone it down a bit,” he said, turning to smile at the Incubus. “We don't want her to jump you.”
The Incubus King’s grin was satisfactory, eyes brewing with wanton desire. His hair was a shade of garnet, darker than his son’s, and his chiseled cheekbones made his face even more striking. What I wouldn’t give to lick…
I shook my head, clearing my lust-muddled haze. Anger replaced it, and I glared at the King.
How dare he use his powers on me?
The man who had hurt my mate! I recalled Killian’s story, how this despicable man had tried to force him to have sex with a woman he considered a mother. When Killian refused, he raped her in front of him. And then killed her.
Anger burned me from the inside out, molten lava brewing just below the surface. I had the sudden urge to leap the few feet separating us and jab my knife into his head. No, that would be too quick of a death. He deserved to suffer. Bleed.
Lupe’s expression was positively murderous. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides.
“She has to prove herself,” the Mermaid King cut in. It was apparent he was jealous that the attention was no longer on him. Resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I reluctantly turned in his direction.
My brow furrowed when I caught his son’s eye over his shoulder. Dair’s brother. The man was handsome with lightly tanned skin and golden blond hair, but he didn’t hold a candle to my mate. My mate…
I still hated those damn words.
The man - Tavvy, if I remembered my facts correctly - was watching me with rapt attention. His head tilted to the side as if he was contemplating a difficult math equation. I pulled my eyes from his, focusing on his father, the Mermaid King.
“A task. One chosen by each king.” There were a few mutters of approval before they were silenced by a wave of his hand. The Shifter King growled harshly at what he perceived as a slight from the Mermaid. I had a feeling he would attack the envious ruler if not for Lupe’s hand on his shoulder, restraining him. My mouth flattened at their touch, hating to see Lupe with such a monster.
“A task?” the Shadow King parroted, amusement evident in his voice. The Mermaid’s smile was positively gleeful.
I couldn’t help but compare it to the smile of a sociopath seconds after a kill. It was a smile not intended for comfort.
“A task. To prove your worth and loyalty to the seven ruling families.” He nodded towards the Mage King, descended from Sloth, who lazily lifted his head. Had the asshole been asleep?
When he turned half-lidded eyes towards me, smiling indolently, I realized that yes, yes, he had.
Procuring a small flask from his pocket, he tossed it to me. I scrambled to catch the bottle, eyes scanning the inscripted label with unease. The last thing I wanted to do was put an unknown substance into my body, as the Kings seemed to be implying, especially something gifted from the King of Mages himself.
“Drink it, whore,” the Shifter King demanded. I glared at the crude acknowledgement, and I could’ve sworn I heard Lupe growl from behind his father. If the King heard it, he didn’t acknowledge it.
“What will it do?” I asked. I tried not to let them see how frightened I actually was. Surely, they weren’t going to kill me with poison. Right?
Right?
I would be ashamed and embarrassed for them if they lacked the creativity to kill me with some pizzazz.
It was Lupe that caught my attention. Fur had grown on his face and forearms, teeth elongated.
The last thing I wanted to do was out Lupe’s and my relationship to the Kings...or lack thereof. I didn’t know how the Kings would feel if they discovered we were soulmates.
Actually, I imagined they would be pretty pissed off. The type of pissed off that usually ended with dead bodies and heads on spikes.
Deciding quickly, I chugged the contents of the drink before Lupe could shift fully.
And then the pain began.
TWO
Z
The pain lasted for only a second. Enough time for me to scream in agony as my bones ripped apart and then sewed themselves back together again. Enough time for Lupe to partially transform into his bear - body turning larger, hair growing once more on his forearms, lips curling backwards into a snarl.
In all honesty, the Kings should’ve been grateful that I was able to snap out of it. I wasn’t sure if even they were immune to a grizzly attack.
Gasping, I glanced through my fringe of lashes. Somehow, I found myself on the floor, keeled over as vomit churned in the back of my throat. My stomach threatened to expel the contents of my dinner, but I held it in. The last thing I wanted to do was give the assholes the satisfaction of watching me squirm.
&n
bsp; Granted, I was on the floor, a shivering, sobbing mess, but throwing up was the final straw.
“Impressive,” the Shadow King said brightly. “The last one passed out for hours.”
“The last one was a wimp who didn’t last five minutes,” drawled the Incubus King.
“Semantics.”
“What...what was that?” I asked, struggling to take in that precious air. I clutched my chest, afraid my heart would be ripped from it. Unbidden, my eyes flickered to Lupe’s. Claw marks marred the pillar he was leaning against, and sweat beaded on his forehead. I gave him a subtle nod to let him know I was okay, that I was alive, that I was still breathing and ready to kick ass. He looked as if he was seconds away from lunging towards me and carrying me out of the room, caveman style, but he managed to nod.
Trusting my judgement.
The Shifter King laughed, the unpleasant sound grating on my nerves. I wondered if he saw the exchange between me and his son. If he did, he didn’t comment. I worried, briefly, that he would take out his anger on Lupe later before quickly dismissing that thought in a tidal wave of anger. From what intel I had gathered, the Shifter King had never laid a hand on his son - surprising, given his wrathful nature and bigoted ideologies. He just took his frustration out on everyone else instead.
“That, my dear child, was a binding spell.” This came from the Mage King.
Had he…?
Had he brought a pillow?
One glance confirmed that, yup, he was lying sideways in his throne, a pillow under his head. His half-lidded eyes met mine.
He wasn’t as handsome as his son, Bash, but I could definitely see the similarities. The same pale skin and ash blond hair. The same dimples that appeared when they smiled.
Not that Bash smiled much, mind you. The asshole was more stubborn than I was.
He hated the mate bond with a passion. In his mind, the mate bond equaled a loss of free-will, a loss of freedom. I didn’t entirely blame him. To know that there were seven people made perfectly for me, made to soothe the jagged edges of my soul, made me uneasy. I wasn’t good at relationships or love or any of that shit. I was more of a stab first, ask questions later kind of girl.
I knew I didn’t love them. Not even Devlin, the man I had once loved with my entire heart.
At least, I wasn’t certain if I loved him.
They were strangers to me, and I still struggled to differentiate them from my enemies. I had been programmed my entire life to be wary of the Nightmare Princes. The prophecy itself had stated that these princes, these seven men who had slammed into my life like a wrecking ball, were designed specifically to either end the world or save it.
No pressure.
Realizing my thoughts had drifted from the matter at hand, I lifted my chin imperceptibly and met the Mage King’s light, playful eyes. It was just another distinction from the brooding, serious Sebastian.
“The binding spell assures your loyalty to the seven crowns,” the Mermaid King said. A cruel, taunting smirk pulled up his thin lips.
“With it, no harm may befall us either by your hand or your mind,” added the Incubus King. He pointed to his head for emphasis - as if I really needed him to spell out where the “mind” was.
Well...shit. That put a damper on the whole “kill them all” plan.
“What would happen if I break it?” I asked. If it was possible, and I didn’t think it was, the Kings appeared even more amused. The Shadow King went as far as to throw back his head in laughter.
“My dear child…” Gliding towards me, the Shifter King rested a heavy hand on my shoulder. His nails broke through clothes and into skin - I knew it was going to leave a nasty bruise. “If you break the oath, the spell, then you die. Simple. You are dismissed until we call upon you for your first task.”
His words echoed in my ears. Reverberated through my body.
Simple.
Then why did it feel as if I was walking to my execution?
DEVLIN WAS STILL ASLEEP when I snuck back into the room. I hadn’t made him aware of my meeting with the Kings, knowing for certain that he would demand to go with me. Whatever secrecy our relationship had would no doubt shatter the second he entered that throne room.
He looked peaceful as he slept. Serene. His abnormally long lashes fluttered against his olive-toned skin, and his disheveled curls fanned out on the pillow. Tiptoeing so I wouldn’t disturb him, I perched on the edge of the bed.
How did I feel about Devlin Genie?
There was no easy way for me to answer that question.
One part of me remembered our time together, the love we had shared, the way he had held me with reverence and tenderness as if I was the only girl in the world. The other half of me balked at the idea of re-entering a relationship with the man who had broken my heart. Trust had to be earned, and once you broke it, it was impossible to fix completely. It was like trying to capture raindrops in the palm of your hand: impossible.
Add on the fact that he was my fated mate, one of the seven men designed specifically for me, only made me more cautious. We had spent years together, and he had never bothered to tell me.
I had even fallen in love with another man, and he had still remained silent.
At the same time, I had lied to him too. My name, when we had first met, had been Susan, and I had posed as a helpless damsel in distress. I had never nor will I ever be that woman. Time may have cracked away at my innocence, but I had always been hard. Glacial. Not even cannons could tear down these walls I had impeccably crafted, brick by brick.
He stirred, muttering something beneath his breath. Glutton for punishment, I leaned closer, pressing my ear against his parted lips.
“Z…” he whispered sleepily. Dreamily.
My heart thudded in my chest before dropping through the floorboards. A fire built in my stomach, setting me ablaze.
Why did the thought of him dreaming of me fill me with both dread and excitement?
Unable to answer that, I settled on stroking his hair.
Being with Devlin...it had once felt like coming home after trekking through an atrocious snowstorm. The wind howling, the snow assaulting my face, the water seeping through the legs of my pants. Once I entered the house, warmth emanated from the lit fire and the smell of baked cookies wafted from the oven, the smell pervasive. It was the feeling of wrapping your favorite blanket around your shoulders to curb the frigid air. Home. He had felt like home.
Now? That home had cracks that brought in the snow, and the fire had long since turned to embers.
“Z?” a tired voice whispered
It took me a moment to realize that Devlin wasn’t just sleepily mumbling my name. He opened one eye lazily, a content smile fluttering on his face. Before I could say something - perhaps explain why I was sitting there staring at him like a stalker - he reached a hand out and pulled me towards him. My body bounced against his hard, muscular one, and I tensed instinctively.
I didn’t...cuddle.
But I also couldn’t deny that being in his arms felt right.
“When did you get up?” he whispered, nuzzling my hair with his nose. I heard him inhale deeply, breathing in my scent. I prayed that I didn’t stink of...well...blood. Or whatever else assassins would stink of.
“Um...just a little bit ago?”
Was this the new pillow talk?
“Liar,” Devlin said suddenly, catching me off guard. When I merely tilted my head up to stare at him, blinking rapidly, he grinned down at me. “You have a tell, my love. You stiffen.”
“I stiffen?” I asked in disbelief. I catalogued my body, somewhat pissed when I noticed that my limbs were abnormally tight. “That’s probably because you pulled me on top of you,” I deflected.
He snorted, hand coming down to brush at my thighs. Now, my body stiffened for an entirely different reason. Damn feminine hormones. And damn him for having a magic hand. I had lived on only my hand for a year, thank you very much, and the last thing I needed-
&nb
sp; I gasped as his fingers fluttered against the seams of my pants, directly over my core.
“Where were you?” he repeated. “Were you with one of the others?”
He didn’t sound jealous talking about my six other mates, his brothers in every way but blood, though I imagined it couldn’t have been easy for him. He had me all to himself once upon a time, and now…
I knew I would go quite stabby if he had six other lovers.
Nope. Not going there.
Bitches would be stabbed.
Painfully.
In the boob.
“What are you thinking about now?” he asked. He pressed his lips to the crown of my head before moving lower, across my cheekbone, and finally resting on my jaw. His scruff tickled my sensitive skin.
“Boobs,” I answered honestly. At least that was one thing I could answer. He chuckled, the sound making my body tingle. Unlike his father’s, it was a genuine, amused laugh.
“Should I be jealous?” he asked teasingly. Those damn lips of his rested on my earlobe, nibbling softly. The barest graze of teeth.
“As long as you don’t think about boobs, we shouldn’t have a problem,” I said breathlessly. I blamed it on the jog I had never taken. Yup. That five mile non-existent run through the woods.
“Is that so?”
Devlin’s hand snaked upwards before resting on my heavy breast. Squeezing softly, he began to knead the mound, fingers tweaking my nipple through my thin shirt.
“Yup.”
Make that a ten mile jog.
“Now are you going to tell me where you were...or who you were with?”
His hand left my breast, and I practically cried out at the loss of contact. That cry turned into a gasp of pleasure when it crept under my shirt, beneath my bra, and touched my bare skin. His thumb rubbed back and forth over my aching, beaded nipple.
As always with Devlin, I felt too much, too soon, too deeply. He made me feel as if I wasn’t broken but instead a work in progress.
And I hated it.