Her Demon Prince (Forbidden Fantasy) (24 page)

Her father
walked forward to greet the King's emissaries as was fitting for the male head
of the house and she followed up behind him though her feet dragged at every
step.

Several men
wearing full battle gear dismounted from their horses. One dismounted from a
large black stallion and flicked the reins to another soldier.

"Prince
Agrat?" Rachael said. She recognized his body armor with its lapis lazuli
breastplate, though this time he wore a helmet. It had been some time since she
had seen him, but she had learned not to be afraid of the demon prince, though
he had never brought any of his army to her door before.

Her father knelt
at the Prince's feet and bowed his head. "My lord," he said.
"Welcome to my humble home."

The prince did
not acknowledge him. Instead, he strode straight over to Rachael. Every nerve
jangled in her body as he came close. A brooding, malignant energy emanated
from him, which she hadn't sensed before. She clutched her throat as a sense of
panic overwhelmed her. She wanted to run, to hide, anything to get away, but
she knew she couldn't. She had to buy her baby time.

When the prince
came close, Rachael gasped and shrank back in horror. Burning eyes stared at
her through the slit of his helmet. If there was any humanity left in the
prince, it was not apparent. Not anymore. She glanced over at the other
soldiers and her heart began to hammer as a sickening feeling consumed her. All
the soldiers' heads resembled strange animals and their bodies had long
multiple limbs.
Djin!

Hell had come to
their home.

Her father cried
out too and put his hands to his face.

"You are
ordered to come to the palace," the prince said, his voice grating and
low. Gone was the warmth she'd heard before when the prince had brought the
injured Galaden to her to heal.

She didn't know
him anymore.

"Where is
Galaden? Has he sent for me?" Rachael asked. Her questions were bold, but
every second she delayed gave her mother time to run and escape should the
soldiers burn the house. She prayed her servant girl had hidden Cassiel.

The prince
withdrew an evil looking sword with a twisted blade. "The king commands
it."

"What do
you want with my daughter?" her father cried, climbing to his feet.

The prince
turned and slashed his blade across her father's face. Her father screamed in
pain and clutched his cheek as bright red blood sprang through his fingers. He
looked at her with utter disbelief and crumpled to his knees.

A wail of misery
left Rachael's lips. She tried to get to him. With her healing powers, she
could save him, but the prince grabbed her, pinioned her arms behind her back
and shoved her forward toward his horse. He picked her up, his fingers biting
into her body and threw her over the withers of the huge black stallion. He climbed
up behind her and kicked his horse into action.

This was not the
behavior of the prince she had known in the past. He was a stranger. From the
cruelty of the prince's treatment, Rachael knew that she'd never see her baby,
Cassiel, again.

Dust kicked up
into her face and she squeezed her eyes shut, forced to endure the wild
movement of the stallion. There was no point in struggling, not when the
prince's hand was pressed down hard on her back so that she could barely breathe.
She understood now why he generated the fear that he did. It was almost as if
this demon son of the king had two distinct sides to his nature
;
one kind and loving — at least to his half-brother
— and the other so cold and cruel, it was inhuman. At least the soldiers
had not burned her house, nor had they searched for Cassiel. Galaden had kept
his vow.

Her baby was
safe.

For
now.

With the top
half of her body hanging upside down over the withers of the prince's horse,
Rachael fought to stay conscious as the ground swirled under her. She clenched
her eyes shut again. Several hours later the clacking noise of hooves meeting
paving sounded in her ears. Forcing her eyes to open, she saw the ground was
paved with cobblestones as they entered the walled city of Jerusalem. Her head
throbbed from the constant bouncing against the horse's foreleg as the prince
rode with his men into a stadium. The prince dismounted and she felt his rough
hands pull her off the horse. Her legs buckled, unable to support her after
such a harsh journey when she hit the ground. She couldn't reconcile this
hideous treatment from the prince with the man who had come to her villa
several years ago desperate to save his angelic half-brother.

The prince
yanked her to her feet by the arm and forced her to walk forward. In front of
her was a dais built of gold and swathed in rich fabrics to protect the
inhabitant from the harsh sun. When she saw who sat upon the gilt throne in
front of her, the whole word seemed to tilt.

"Your
Highness. This is the woman." The prince bowed, released his pinching grip
on her arm and shoved her forward.

"Bring her
closer. I wish to see the whore with the flame hair." The king motioned
her to come closer with a wave of his hand.

Tears blurred
Rachael's vision. Her breasts were hard and full and part of her shift was wet
from milk. She prayed that no one would notice how damp her shift was and
refrained from plucking it from her body. Wiping her eyes with the backs of her
hands, she cleared her vision.

The king stared
at her, his eyes narrowed and his mouth became pinched as his gaze moved slowly
over her. He was a large man, though not given to flesh, with a face lined with
age. His eyes were almost black, their expression piercing over a hooked nose
and thin mouth. His white moustache and beard covered the lower half of his
face. He leaned forward and his hands, adorned with gold and gem encrusted
rings, were clenched.

Rachael
shuddered, her senses on full alert. There would be no mercy for her from a man
who gazed at her with intense hatred. No chance for explanation. On either side
of the king stood his guards, dressed in the ceremonial colors of the king,
long swords sheathed at their sides. With desperation she looked further afield,
hoping to see Galaden, but her angel husband was not there. Did he know that
she had been taken?

She thought not.
Galaden would never have allowed her to be treated so roughly. Instead, he
would be here trying to free her. Galaden loved her and she believed in him,
but that didn't stop the fear rising up in her throat so intensely that she
could hardly swallow.

The soldiers,
with battle-hardened faces and alert eyes, waited with interest to see her
punishment and execution. Behind her stood the king's demonic forces, their
energy like a dark cloud. When she glanced behind her, she heard the prince
laugh, the rumble frightening like an earth tremor. No escape. No mercy.

She remembered
the prince when he had visited her healing room in the past, how he had been
told his mother was a demon. How he did not know what he was. Perhaps he had
become what he most feared. Was that why he was now so cruel?

She turned and
gave him one last look, her gaze meeting the burning eyes within his helmet,
moving down his torso to his unsheathed sword and focusing on the claw-like
talons gripping it. Rachael started. Why had she not noticed his creature-like
hands before? Had her fear been so great that all her senses had shut down when
he had taken her? She should have known. Should have sensed. This was not the
prince who stood beside her, but some creature, barely human, disguised in
Agrat's clothing.

This was not
Agrat but some imposter.

Death faced her.

Injustice faced
the true prince.

And Galaden, her
one great love, would mourn his whole life.

In front of her,
the king stood and everything went silent. Even the birds ceased to sing and
the wind no longer whipped her hair around her face, her headdress having long
flown away. "Woman. Is it true you seduced my son?"

The king thought
her a whore and his belief would become lore through all ages. She knew it in
his words, could see it in his face. Rachael raised her chin. Her child would
not be told his mother was a prostitute after her bones had been bleached white
by the desert sands. Cassiel would not grow up like Agrat thinking he was
unworthy. Her son would know the truth. "Galaden is my husband."

The king's face
blanched and he raised his hand and shook his fist at her. "My sons are
forbidden to marry. Galaden has been promised to another."

"Galaden
loves me. I am his wife and he has my heart," she said, her voice loud and
firm.

"I do not
recognize this marriage," the king roared. Veins bulged on his broad
forehead.

"Rachael!"
A melodic cry reached her ears.

She heard a
fluttering sound and looked upwards. Galaden flew toward her, the silver at the
tips of his wings glinting in the sky. He landed on her right hand side, the
wondrous fragrance of morning dew surrounding her, his scent safe and warm. She
flung herself into his arms. "You're here."

She saw the look
of horror Galaden gave the imposter prince who stood close by, his sword at the
ready to end her life, the moment the king gave the order to do so. There was
no time to explain that this was not Agrat, but a demon disguised as the prince
doing the cruel will of the king.

"Release
her!" The king pointed in Galaden's direction.

Rachael felt the
tremor go through Galaden's whole body and his arms dropped to his sides.
"Galaden, what's happening to you?"

"I am
forced to obey my maker," he said through gritted teeth. Shame masked his face
as he turned from her to the king, his movements stiff and awkward as if his
limbs were lodged in hardening plaster.

The imposter
prince cackled beside her.

"Don't
listen to the king," she cried. "Block out his words." Even to
her own ears, she knew her words were desperate. Galaden had once explained how
he had no choice, how he had to obey due to his nature. He had to do his
father's bidding just as a caterpillar would change to a moth and grow wings.

"Free her,
Father. She is my wife, my one true love," Galaden cried.

"Foolish
angel son. This marriage is illegal," the king said, banging his hand down
on the rail of the dais.

"I will
marry no other," Galaden replied, though his voice sounded strange and
hollow. His whole body shuddered under the king's glare and the glow that all
angels had naturally, faded.

Rachael stared
at Galaden as dread consumed her. He seemed to be changing color in front of
her eyes, his creamy skin turning alabaster, his bright, blue eyes dimming. Yet
like his father, Galaden's mouth had become pinched, his chin thrust forward
and she saw the stubbornness there. She also saw bravery. He was fighting for
her life.

"You will
marry my choice for you," the king said, his dark eyes flashing with
danger.

"No!"
Galaden said.

"You dare
defy your maker?" the king roared. "Fool of an angel son. You cannot
defy me."

Galaden's whole
body shuddered as he fought his father's control.

Rachael moved in
front of him and gripped his face, her hands on his cheeks. His head was stiff
and unresisting to her touch as his gaze locked with his father's.
"Galaden. Listen to me. Fly us out of here. I don't care that you're a
prince. All I care about is you." She didn't dare mention their baby in
case the imposter prince, who was standing nearby, heard her.

Galaden looked
at her, his head movements robotic. "I cannot. My wings are frozen."
His voice sounded strangled to her ears.

"Kill
her," the king ordered.

"No!"
A cry left the angel's lips, the tone unnatural and hideous like an axe
grinding across metal.

She felt
claw-like talons grip her by the shoulders and drag her off the angel, though
she managed to grab Galaden's hand and grip it hard.

Raw hatred
filled Galaden's eyes as he looked at the pretender prince. "Traitor
brother. I will kill you for this."

Rachael opened
her lips to warn Galaden that the creature standing next to her wasn't Agrat,
the brother the angel prince had loved all his life. That whoever had framed
the demon prince was determined to break that love, crush it into the ground
like dirt beneath a shoe and turn brother against brother. There was no time to
defend Agrat, no way to save
herself
or utter last
words of love to Galaden. She saw the flash of steel and then a searing heat
flared across the front of her throat as the blade sliced into her neck.
Instinct made her try to withdraw her hand and grip her throat but Galaden held
it tight. She stared into his crystal-blue eyes, the same color as her baby's.
They were filled with horror. She wanted to tell him to look after Cassiel, but
she had no words as she tried to gulp in her last breath.

She died holding
Galaden's hand.

Rachael gulped in a large
breath and tried to raise her hand to the raw pain in her throat, but Galaden
held it tight. The searing agony from the nightmare faded as she looked about
her. "Where am I?" White ceiling. White walls.
A
drip in the back of her hand.
A machine near her bed,
beeping loudly.
Electrodes on her chest.
Stricken by her dream, she stared up into Galaden's eyes, trying to make sense
of where she was.