Kiss of a Demon King

38

When Rydstrom had gone to check on her again, he'd reached down to brush her hair.

And found nothing but illusion. He'd stared for long moments, disbelieving.

She tricked me. She'd obviously never intended to stay. Another lie. She'd . .. deserted him.

Why! He'd charged from the house into a storm, bel­lowing her name. Where in the hell is she? He caught her scent from what must be miles away.

He tore off after her, tracking her, following his instinct. He sprinted down sodden streets, rage over­whelming him with every step. The frenzied need to mark her consumed him.

She doesn't carry my mark . . . we're not wed.

He caught sight of her nearing a small park, darting through puddles. He squinted through the rain. In the distance, he saw an area of diffused air-a portal. And she was heading directly for it.

Can't lose her. He pumped his arms for speed until he was on her heels, then lunged for her. Seizing her by the hips, he took her down into the muddy grass.

"You told me you wanted to stay with me!" With his breaths heaving, he tossed her to her back. "You made me believe you. And you were running back to Omortl"

"No . . . yes . . . Rydstrom, you must listen!" She blinked up at him, the pouring rain hitting her face.

He hauled her beneath him, digging his claws into her thighs. "Why? Every word out of your mouth is a lie! How many times will I let you deceive me?"

She'd thought to escape him? The lying sorceress would pay.

His eyes glowed in the night, cruel obsidian. Rain poured down painfully-never had Sabine felt it like this. The drops pelted her eyes so hard, she could barely see, could scarcely hear herself.

'I'd planned to be good to you," he grated. "To make love to you. But no longer."

When he began unbuckling his belt, her eyes went wide. "Not like this!" she cried, raking her nails over his face and chest.

He roared with fury, then seized her wrists, fettering them behind her back with his belt.

"Rydstrom, no! Something has happened! Demon, listen to me. My sister's here-"

"Your sister's not here, she's in Tornin! In my castle! My home!" His horns were dark and flaring. "I don't want to hear any more of your lies!"

"Please, Lanthe's in danger. . . ." Her words tangled on her tongue as she tried to explain to him, while lis­tening for Lanthe's voice or the sound of wings. "And the Vrekeners are everywhere!"

Rydstrom finished her binding and flipped her hack over to face him. He isn't hearing me. "I have to go to her!" she said, trying again, but there was no talking to him, no reasoning. I broke him. The demon who had been so rational, so reasonable. "If anything happens to her." Her heart was about to explode with fear for Lanthe. That fear turned to nausea, then fury. "You have no right to keep me," she cried. "No right to attack me, tackling me into the mud!"

"You lied-you'll pay for it."

"Get off of me, you animal! You have to release me, now!"

"Never, Sabine, Never." He snatched her up into his arms then over his shoulder, storming back to his home.

"No!" she screamed as he forced her away from the portal, away from Lanthe. "Don't take me back." Though the rain was easing, she still couldn't hear her sister.

"I'll keep her any way I have to," Rydstrom muttered to himself. "Chained to the bed if I have to. The demon in me will be satisfied this eve...."

She gazed back over his arm, shuddering. Where was her sister? Sabine had to get back to her, had to escape Rydstrom.

When the gale ended, she attempted once more to tell him about Lanthe. But it was like talking to a wall. He wouldn't listen, not even when they returned to the

house, not even when he stripped her. Not even when he stalked outside and found chains to trap her body to his bed.

One way to deal with a woman like her.

Rydstrom heard little of what she was saying. He didn't need to hear any more of her lies. Just need to mark her.

She lay on the bed with her damp red hair in a fall all around her head, her pale body spread and trembling. He shoved his pants off, then climbed over her.

Her eyes went wide. "You've got to let me go!" she cried. "I have to get back."

Do nothing irrevocable. . . . But he had to, because she wouldn't stay anyway. Mark her.

He knelt between her legs. "I was going to take you slow." When he lay over her, he clasped the sides of her face. His cock pulsed against her hot sex.

Get control. She makes me crazed! Got me so twisted inside. . . .

"Don't do this to me, demon!" She gazed up at him with beseeching eyes.

"You told me you would stay. I believed you."

"Rydstrom, I have to help Lanthe, my sister. If I don't get back, they'll kill her. Trust me to return to you, and I will."

"Did you think it would have ended between us when you went back to Omort? I'd come for you." As he ground his shaft against her, he said at her ear, "Cwena, if we are apart, it's only because I'm not done fighting my way to you."

"If we do this, will you let me go?" she asked desper­ately. "Then take me, claim me, do whatever you have to, but just release me."

"You must bear my bite."

"Then, yes! Do it!"

"You know what you have to say, sorceress."

"You want me to beg, demon? I will! I beg y-"

"No!" He shoved his hand over her mouth. He didn't want this. Didn't want her to break. When she grew quiet, he removed it.

"Th-that's what you wanted, isn't it?" she asked.

"Yes . . .no!" He eased off her, sitting on the edge of the bed, pinching his forehead. Just think.

"Then what?" she cried, writhing in her chains.

He rose, pacing. Think . . .

"What do you want me to do, demon? What do you want?"

"I don't know'." he bellowed, putting his fist through the wall. "I want you to feel something. For me." And then he was above her again, clutching her nape. "Because you're clawing my bloody heart from my chest!"

"I do feel something for you, demon. Take me, mark me as your own. Forever. "

Words from a dream. He couldn't decipher the sub­texts, couldn't foresee what trickery this was. Her silken tongue was telling him exactly what he wanted to hear, the sorceress soothing the beast inside him.

"But then you have to let me go. I will return to you!"

Can't think . . . nothing irrevocable ... He rose once more, then staggered to the bathroom. Inside, he rested his forehead and palms against the wall, digging in his claws as he grappled for control-

He heard the unmistakable sound of Cadeon's old truck in the drive. With a curse, Rydstrom slung on some jeans, then went to head him off before his brother could use a key.

When Rydstrom cracked open the side door, his mind was seized on Sabine, but he vaguely noted Cadeon appeared ... tired.

"Rydstrom?" Cadeon bit out incredulously.

He could only imagine what he looked like. He wore no shirt or shoes and had been buttoning up his jeans. Cadeon's gaze flickered over his clenched jaw, his shoulders bunched with tension, and the thin lines of blood running down his chest and across his cheek.

"Are you going to make me stand out here? Open the door."

Rydstrom glanced back into the house. That dream. She'd been about to take it away from him. He could hate her for that.

"You're worrying me, man. Let me in, and tell me what happened. The last I heard was that you'd been captured by Sabine."

When Rydstrom didn't answer, Cadeon said, "You were taken to Tornin, weren't you? Did you fight Omort to escape?"

Rydstrom finally shook his head.

"Then how the hell did you get free? No one escapes Tornin."

"I had an ace in my pocket," he said, his voice rough. What will I have to do to make her want to stay?

"You don't sound good. Are you all right?"

"I will be." Rydstrom looked back over his shoulder again. "Soon."

"I got the sword." Cadeon offered it to him. "Killed Groot, too."

Rydstrom accepted the weapon, barely sparing it a glance. She'd been running from me. After making me believe she wanted to be with me.

Cadeon was baffled, saying slowly, "That's the sword that will defeat Omort"

"We go to war in the spring. Be ready."

"That's all you've got to say? So much for abject gratitude, or even a pat on the back." Cadeon's tone grew louder with each word. "If you knew what I went through to get to that goddamned thing, what I put my female through . . . Oh, and for the record, your Vey-ron's missing, and it's never fucking coming home-"

"/s someone out there?" Sabine cried. "Oh, gods, help me!" She rattled the chains. "I'm being held against my

will!"

"Is that Sabine?" Cadeon bit out. "Was she your ace?"

"Please help me!"

Rydstrom peered at him hard, daring Cadeon to do something.

Clearly striving for a casual tone, Cadeon said, "So, you've got an evil sorceress chained up in your bed, then?"

Rydstrom knew what his brother believed. "She's mine," he seethed. "I'll do whatever the fuck I want to her. And it's nothing that wasn't done to me," he snapped, recalling the humiliation she'd subjected him to. The memories burned worse, because he'd intended to be so good to her, had planned to completely forgive her for her treatment of him. His fists clenched.

"Hey, hey, no need to slug me, brother. To each his own, yeah?" But he was studying Rydstrom.

"Once I'm done with her, I'll contact you."

As he closed the door, he barely heard Cadeon mutter, "Fuckall, does this mean I'm no longer the bad brother . . . ?"

Before Rydstrom locked the sword in the armory, he took it to the bedroom to show Sabine his prize. "This is the sword that will kill Omort."

It glinted in the light, and her eyes followed its every movement as he checked the weapon's balance, swing­ing it in a circle by his side.

"Soon, I'll return to Tornin for his head. Would you like that? How does the idea of your brother's death make you feel?"

"Like I'm hearing a weather report for a town I don't live in."

"I almost want you to have loyalty to him."

"Don't you understand? You'll never get close enough to use that weapon on him. He rarely leaves Tornin. He has guards and mystickal traps surrounding him at all times. Damn you, Rydstrom!" Her wrists were bleeding. "Let me go!"

He'turned from her and left the room. As he headed to his study, he gazed down at the sword-the most remarkable one Rydstrom had ever beheld. The weapon felt like an extension of his arm.

This was all he'd wanted, and he'd barely spared a glance at it. His brother had risked his life to claim this for him, and Rydstrom hadn't said a word of thanks.

Just now, Cadeon had looked at him like he'd lost his mind.

I think I have.