Kiss of a Demon King (17 page)

25

O
ver the long day, the landscape gradually transformed again. The thickening underbrush tangled at their feet, and wind-whipped trees filled crowded groves. Rivers carved through plateaus, with cliffs overlooking all.

He and Sabine continued to ascend, crossing one shallow stream after another.

She glared at every bramble, glared at the sun blazing overhead, glared at him whenever he helped her drink from the canteen.

Rydstrom couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d learned this morning. Where had he been five hundred years ago when Sabine had been unprotected and tortured?

Maybe if he’d been able to let go of his quest for the crown and had searched for her instead, he could have spared her this.
My female, slashed like that as a mere girl
.

Had she been afraid? Had she known what was about to befall her?

She’d said that wasn’t the last time she’d been murdered, and, in this, he believed her. So how many deaths had she suffered? Exactly how else had she died? How old was she each time?

No wonder she held life in so little regard.

He’d yelled at her this morning, shaking her to get her to tell him. And something had happened. She’d gotten a look about her, and her eyes had darted. Her swagger had vanished.

As he’d suspected, whenever she was discomfited, she camouflaged her expressions with an illusion of either amusement or patronizing indulgence.

Now there were no illusions. And she was so used to mystickally hiding her expressions that she didn’t remember to school them.

Angry, sarcastic Sabine had started
blushing
today, as well. Whenever she’d caught his gaze on her strand of white hair or her neck, a pink flush colored her high cheekbones. She acted as if he now knew a flaw in her character that she’d tried to keep hidden.

Sabine had become an open book. And what he was reading disturbed him greatly.

She’d asked him if the knowledge of her past had softened his anger. He almost felt numb to that anger, as if his confusion about her had overwhelmed it. At every turn, she confounded him. Like the most complicated puzzle he’d ever encountered.

This situation reminded him of when his Lykae friend Bowen had been trying to win the pretty witch Mariketa. The two had gotten off to a rocky start, since he’d trapped her in a tomb of Incubi and hadn’t rescued her for weeks.

Rydstrom remembered being perplexed by his friend’s confusion and weird aggression. Rydstrom had been so smug, calmly advising Bowen to reason the situation out. He recalled Bowen snapping that he was going to enjoy it when Rydstrom found his own woman.
She’ll make your horns go ramrod straight every time she saunters by.
Bowen had been eager to see her shake Rydstrom’s unflappable demeanor.

Was I once unflappable?
It seemed a lifetime ago.
Now I comprehend what Bowen had gone through.

But the Lykae had ultimately used his head to figure out how to win the witch. Once they’d been wed, Bowen had told him, “I learned a lesson—with a mate,
do nothing irrevocable
. There are lines not to be crossed with a female, ones you can never come back from. And
never
for an immortal would suck in this case.”

Do nothing irrevocable.
But by leaving Sabine bound, Rydstrom was earning her hatred. While he took his revenge, was he doing something she could never forgive? It didn’t matter what actually was wrong or right or fair—only
what she believed was
….

As he helped her across another stream, she said, “Why do you even want this kingdom back so badly?”

No one had ever asked him that specifically. Weeks ago, the Valkyrie Nïx had asked him, “Which would you prefer to have? Your queen or your crown?” He often thought back to that night. He’d answered his crown, a choice made so easily.

“It’s my birthright,” he finally answered. But it hadn’t always been. Rydstrom hadn’t been raised as the heir of Rothkalina. And as the second son of an immortal king, he’d had no reason to think he’d ever be the ruler.

Fate had had other plans, and Rydstrom had changed his out of necessity. “I want to see my people prosper once more.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m their king. Their well-being is my responsibility.”

“At least you’re honest and not spouting nonsense like ‘Because I love them as a father loves his children.’”

Rydstrom feared that he
didn’t
love his people—not enough. Sometimes he
resented
them, resented that he was trapped in a never-ending struggle to win a crown that should never have been his.

His older brother, Nylson, and their father, the great king, had gone to battle the Horde. They’d disregarded the custom to separate the king and heir in times of war, and they’d both died.

Leaving Rydstrom as a bewildered young ruler.

After that, he’d burned to get his brother Cadeon, his own successor, out of harm’s way, fostering him with another family as soon as he was old enough. Which Cadeon took a nine-hundred-year exception to….

“I also want my home back,” Rydstrom added. “To restore it to its former glory.”
And to scour it clean.

Never had he felt at ease like he had at Tornin in ages past. He’d always held on to memories of his family there, of Mia and Zoë playing hide-and-seek with Cadeon when he was just a pup, of laughter echoing in those great halls.

But once Cadeon was grown, he had ignored Rydstrom’s summons to return to the castle and hold it against their foes. Cadeon had chosen to remain with his foster family. Tornin had fallen….

If Rydstrom could win the kingdom back, then maybe some of the strain would fade between him and his siblings.

“Do you think you deserve this kingdom?” Sabine asked.

“It’s mine by right.”

“Might makes right,” she countered. “In any case, were you such a great king that it would be
right
for you to have it back?”

“I believe I was.” Of course, he’d only been ruler for very few years.

“You left this kingdom mired in the past. No advances even for the time. No roads, no tolls, no permanent portals connecting Rothkalina with other provinces.”

“I didn’t have time! I’d been at war with the Horde from the first day of my rule.” When that crown had first sat so heavily on his head. “And you forget—many of my kind can trace. Beings shape their world by necessity. There wasn’t a need for clunking metal contraptions or blowing up mountains to build roads.”

“If you keep the kingdom without arteries, then only those who can teleport can prosper. I’ll bet you’re feeling the sting of that right now since you can no longer trace.”

“Because of Omort,” he grated. In the past, Rydstrom had been able to effortlessly trace from Rothkalina to other planes and civilizations. Now he was in his own kingdom, traversing Grave Realm—
by foot
.

Just another reason to slay Omort. With his death, Rydstrom and Cade’s ability to trace would be restored.

Sabine continued, “And what about other non-demon beings who might want to make Rothkalina home? You’re hardly attracting them to settle here.”

“Like the Sorceri?”

“Maybe.” She raised her chin. “We’re not without talents.”

“Rothkalina has a dearth of wine drinkers and slave keepers.”

She ignored his sarcastic comment. “Not that they’d want come to this medieval plane anyway. We’re merry, and the rage demons are stodgy and stuck in old ways.”

“Then what’s your excuse for wanting to remain?”

“Here there are no Vrekeners and no humans. Demon, even an evil sorceress needs a safe home to call her own.”

If you accepted me, I’d give you one….

“It’s not like Tornin is a premium castle though,” Sabine continued. “Don’t you really want to get back in Tornin because of the well’s power?”

He tensed. “Do you know what it does?” Because Rydstrom…didn’t.

“Maybe I do. But don’t worry, I won’t tell. I like that everyone’s imagination runs wild. Some think it’s a mystickal prison, a power base, a wish granter. Oh, and that it resurrects the dead. Do
you
even know?”

“I know that my breed of demon was created solely to protect that well. Tornin was constructed to house it. It’s my duty to safeguard both.”

“And you
always
do your duty. Doesn’t it ever get boring? I think that’s why you’re so attracted to me, because I’ve shaken your reasonable, rational, ordered life. I’d wager that you’ve felt more excitement with me in the last week than in centuries.”

That hit far too close to home. “And I think I’ve never known anyone as egotistical as you.”

“Egotistical? Try self-confident. Should I be meek instead? Would you like me better then?”

“No. I’ve never wanted a meek woman for my own. I’ve wanted a queen—”

“And now you have one.”

They carried on in silence as the terrain grew more punishing, leaving him to mull over her words. Even with their history, the fact remained that he had
her.

The one he’d longed for….

She began lagging behind again. Fortunately, the brush opened up just ahead, revealing a scene below them. The sun blazed down on a clear green pool fed by dozens of cascades.

“Do we have to cross this water, then?” She rubbed her forehead on her shoulder, trying to keep the sweat from her eyes. “I can’t swim. Even
if
you released my hands.”

He opened his canteen and helped her drink, then took a healthy swallow. “All Lore creatures can swim. It’s instinctual.”

She gave a bitter laugh. “I can’t tell you how wrong that statement is.”

“Have you drowned?”

“I don’t know how to swim. Never learned. An outdoorswoman I am not.”

“Have—you—drowned?” he snapped.

“More—than—once?” she snapped back, her eyes growing blue with anger.

Obviously, this was a sensitive subject with the sorceress. “I’m weary of this, Sabine. You give me hints of what you’re like, about your history. Am I supposed to spend the rest of the day wondering if you’ve drowned? Or why you don’t like people touching your face—”

“Sorry I don’t feel chatty just now! I’m out of breath and need to rest!”

He shook his head. “We press on—”

“We have to stop! I’m
hurting
here. My arms have been asleep for twenty-four hours. And when was the last time you wore metal against bare skin? There is one reason for this top—to look fabulous. Not to trek through the wilderness. Out here it collects sand, which rubs against my breasts. And they are already far too sensitive because you were forever kissing and sucking on them last night!”

Memories of the night before flashed in his mind, and he stifled a groan. Throughout the day, he’d been recalling with pleasure all the things he’d done to her body—and planning with anticipation what he’d do to her tonight.

The most excitement in centuries?
She was right.

“Demon, are you listening to me? This isn’t parity. I never kept you in pain or hurt your flesh.”

“You’re immortal. You’ll be healed by sundown—”

“Just take a look at them! They’ll be pink and tender. Oh! And I’ll bet my face is getting more sunburned!”

It was, which made her freckle across the bridge of her nose, which meant she looked even less like an evil sorceress.
Damn her.
Her body was so fragile, not like other females of the Lore. A Valkyrie or furie would be laughing at a hike over this terrain.

“You want me to fix it?” He unfastened her top, then yanked it off her, dropping it to the ground.

If he’d expected her to gasp and stammer, he’d have been wrong. Instead she sighed, flexing her back and rolling her head on her neck.

Her breasts
were
pink and looked tender. The tips budded right before his eyes. His mouth watered to lick and suckle her—

“Oh, don’t you even think about it, demon!”

“You dare act angered with me?” Angered over his desire for her? The very need she’d stoked to a blaze?

Sabine stormed over to him, bare breasted, her hair shining like fire in the sun. “Yes, I
dare
!” She kicked his shin with the metal tip of her boot.

He gritted his teeth. “Do that again, sorceress, and you will not like the outcome.”

“I’m beginning to wish I’d ordered more boy-on-boy shower-time for you.”

His eyes went wide, then narrowed. “You’re aching for your next spanking, aren’t you? Keep this up, and I’ll oblige you.”

“You’d love that, wouldn’t you? I think the reason you don’t want to release me is because you’d have to part with this anger, and then you couldn’t treat me like your sex slave each night. It’s so good for you, you can’t stand the thought of letting it go.”

He cupped her nape. “You might be right.”

“Of course I am!” Her eyes were blue, her lips parting around panting breaths. She was so damned sexy, too much so.

He dragged her into his chest. Had she gone up on her toes?

And then they were kissing each other, crazed, frenzied. Like the night he’d claimed her. Taking her trembling mouth was a madness, an addiction. Wringing those little moans and breathless cries…he could kiss her forever.

When she subtly arched her back, he groaned, raising his hand to gently pet her tender breasts—

Her stomach growled. Loudly.

He broke the kiss, leaning his forehead to hers as they caught their breath. “We’ll stop here for the night, sweet.” He took off his tunic, draping it over her front like an apron, then tying the sleeves around her back. “Looks like I need to hunt for my woman.”

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t need you to hunt, demon, I need you to
gather
.”

26

D
rop it, Sabine!”
Rydstrom bellowed from a lower plateau.

Earlier, he’d set up camp on a high promontory, settled her by a fire, and finally threaded her arms into his tunic—retying her right after, naturally. Then he’d gone all he-man, marching off to snare the unwitting creature he’d just been dressing. Though he’d kept her in sight the entire time, he’d eventually gotten far enough away for her plans.

“Drop—the—wine!” He started charging for her. “Bloody now!”

In response, she maneuvered the bottle neck in her mouth’s grasp, tightened her lips, and turned it up, gulping the contents.

“Damn it, Sabine!” he yelled as he ran.

When he reached the campsite, she dropped the emptied bottle with a gasp and took in the sight of him.

His bare chest was heaving, and sweat trickled from his neck. Her eyes followed a bead as it slid down his torso over the ridges of muscle.
Magnificent demon.

Then she frowned—he was holding a skinned animal of indeterminate species. Take away the animal carcass, and this would be one of the sexiest sights she’d ever seen.

“Do you know what I went through to get the cork out?” she asked him, turning to muffle a lady-like burp against her shoulder. “Then you expect me to go unrewarded? Besides, I can’t face the upcoming trial of ritualistic animal abuse without wine.”

He sank down on the opposite side of the fire, spitting the poor creature on a stick.

As he secured the little carcass over the flames, she studiously surveyed the scenery. Rydstrom had made their camp high up on a large jutting cliff. Below them the falls trickled into a pool of the darkest green—the color of his eyes. Other cliffs surrounded the water on three sides, and as the wind rushed in, white blossoms danced on the swirling air.

In minutes the smell of roasting meat was pervasive. After the day’s arduous journey, she was starving, and the scent wasn’t as bad as she’d thought it would be. In fact, it was…appetizing.

“It smells
good,
doesn’t it, sorceress?”

She turned up her nose. “I won’t eat it.”

“Just look at it.”

Before she could stop herself, she did. Her mouth watered at the sight. It was so succulent, it dripped, making the fire hiss.
No, I’m more refined than this. I don’t eat
animals! “You are fully aware that my kind doesn’t consume meat.”

“You will now.”

“Now what? Now that you’re the boss?”

His gaze flickered over her belly.

“Ohhh, now that you think I might be carrying your babe. Will you force me to eat it?”

“I didn’t cause this situation. Remember that.” His tone made her raise her brows. “If your plan worked, and you’ve gotten yourself pregnant with a demon, you’ll need meat to feed it.”

“Do you not think that it would make me sick to eat something I never have before? Something I find revolting? Perhaps you should have ascertained if I was high-maintenance before you abducted me.”

When her stomach growled again, he rose and snatched up the empty pack. “Do not move, princess. I’ll be back with something you might deign to eat.”

A short time later, he returned with the pack full, dumping the contents on the blanket. She quirked a brow at a selection of berries. “A male trying to poison me. How…novel.”

“They aren’t poisonous.” He scooped up some and popped them into his mouth.

“Not to demons, but they’re toxic to me. Because we’re not of the same
species
.”

“You make it sound like we come from different planets. We’re not that different.”

“No?” Her gaze flickered over his horns.

He ran his hand over one, then glowered at her. Strangely, she seemed to be exasperating him—but not
angering
him.

She gave a nod at a dirt covered root. “I’m not a bunny, Rydstrom. And is that
bark
?” With a laugh, she said, “Good gods, you brought me bark to gnaw on!”

“How am I supposed to know what you’ll eat? You pass up perfectly good food—”

“That animal is not
food
. The Sorceri are too refined to eat other living things.”

“You care about animals more than you do about other people.”

“You see, that’s the thing—cows never try to steal my sorcery and chickens rarely try to murder me.
Why
this is so—I do not know. Just that it is.”

“Is there anything here that you can eat?”

“The other berries aren’t poisonous.” When she gave a nod to indicate them, he rinsed them off with water from the canteen, then returned to sit beside her.

As he fed them to her, she took her time eating. He should be forced to wait for her, since he wouldn’t allow her to feed herself.

But he didn’t seem to mind her nibbling one berry from his palm at a time. In fact, he seemed to enjoy it. “My new pet’s an herbivore,” he said with amusement in his husky voice.

Disconcerted by the hint of a smile on his face, she gazed around her once more. “It’s cooler up here. Why did we have to go so high?”

“Because most creatures don’t.”

“You wouldn’t have to worry about that if you freed me—I can talk to animals.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Demon, I’m being quite honest about that. I can speak to them, and they understand me.”

“In any case, you won’t need that ability. I’ll protect you from any threats.”

“Threats.” As they’d gone deeper into Grave Realm, she’d caught him inspecting paw prints in the clay. She’d seen him rest his hand on his sword hilt. “We’re in danger. Great. You’ve taken me to the most hazardous place in the entire kingdom—home of R.O.U.S.’s and the like—then bound me so that I can’t defend myself.”

“Rodents of Unusual Size? I don’t think they exist.”

Her lips parted. He’d quoted
The Princess Bride
.

“Don’t be so shocked,” he said gruffly. “At the local coven of witches, that movie plays twenty-four-seven. They drink every time they hear
my darling Westley
or something. It’s hard to miss.”

“Are you often at that coven? Visiting with
the witches
?” She could just imagine how those little magick mercenaries would fawn over the towering demon king. Sabine disliked witches, was wary of them.

“You sound condescending. Aren’t the Sorceri related to the witches?”

“Distantly.” Though they might have shared ancestors and a love of revelry, and some of their powers were interchangeable—and stealable—the Sorceri were a unique culture, far distinct from the earth-worshipping witches. “So answer my question.”

“I’ve been by a few times,” he said. “As you might have seen when you were hacking into my brain, my good friend Bowen is wed to Mariketa the Awaited.”

Sabine had heard of that female, but then most in the Lore had. She was the most powerful of the witches, so talented with mirrors she’d achieved the status of Queen of Reflections.

To steal her powers would be a coup. But going up against a strong witch or a coven of them was dangerous. A witch could steal a Sorceri’s power—if she killed her. “Ah yes, I remember seeing Bowen. He’s the one you’re jealous of.”

“I wasn’t jealous of him—I was envious that he’d found his mate.”

“But now you have, too.”

“At last, I have.”

“Yet you won’t release her?”

“She’d run at the first opportunity. Possibly taking my child with her. Both are far too valuable for me to risk losing.”

Should I tell him I’m not pregnant?
It would only anger him yet again. And now he seemed relaxed for the first time since she’d known him. Even that first night before he’d discovered who she was, he’d been on edge.

She decided she’d keep that knowledge secret for now. The Sorceri weren’t known as being guarded for nothing.

When he leaned over and kissed the bridge of her nose, she asked, “What was that for?”

“Your freckles are gone. I told you everything would be healed by sunset.” His gaze briefly dipped to her breasts.

She was indeed healed, and the sun was setting, closing another day. She gazed out at the horizon at the last glimmers of light. This meant she had one fewer day until the morsus would strike.

Though she had almost two weeks left, the worry had begun to prey on her.

Contrary to what she’d told the demon, she didn’t believe that Omort was coming to save her anytime soon. Rydstrom’s escape would rock the Pravus, further jeopardizing the strength of the alliance. And then there was Lothaire’s betrayal.

Factions would be bailing left and right, leaving fewer behind to come after her. If the fire demons and vampires weren’t available to trace or had never been to this place, then only Lanthe could get to her out in Grave Realm.

But, as Sabine had discovered over the last two days—it was a
big
realm. The odds of Lanthe opening a portal nearby were slim.

And if Rydstrom took Sabine off-plane…?

She was almost spooked enough to consider telling him why she was in danger. But she could just imagine explaining the morsus to him.

“By the way, I’m going to have to take a U-turn and run back to Omort, your most hated enemy, because I’ve been poisoned. By whom? Oh, Omort himself. Once I find a way to get back to my brother, I’m going to beg him to give me even more of the poison I’ve been taking. Is there any proof of my poisoning? Outward signs? Um, none. Not until I have an epileptic-like seizure and begin vomiting blood. And no outwardly identifiable marks, not until I am officially dying. Then you’ll see a red X somewhere on my body. But by that time, it will be too late.”

The demon wouldn’t likely believe her, and she couldn’t think of a vow he’d accept as true. Perhaps breaking hers so routinely when she’d first captured him hadn’t been advisable.

But how was I supposed to have known to act like my word was good?

The only thing she could do would be to create a clay covenant between them. But she didn’t see a kiln or an oven forthcoming in Grave Realm.

Exactly how bad was his mistrust? She’d make a foray to see…. “Rydstrom, if I were to tell you something that sounded crazy, and asked you to believe me, could you possibly—”

“No.”

“You don’t even want to think about—”

“No.”

“What would it take for you to trust me? A vow? Some kind of promise?”

“It will come, Sabine. I believe that. But only with time.”

Time that I don’t have.

Even if she could eventually convince him, she didn’t have
eventually
. Her only hope was to get him to untie her—and to run, to try locating Lanthe in this place. If the sisters got close enough to each other, they could communicate telepathically.

Which was a good thing, since Sabine had zero sense of direction. She frowned. But so did Lanthe.

She mentally waved that detail away. They’d figure something out.

So the first step was beguiling Rydstrom to free her. That shouldn’t be a problem. Sabine was an enchantress. She could seduce him to do her will.

The scene was set: the stars were feverishly bright and the moon heavy. Small ripples in the water below them caught the moonlight, reflecting in patterns of emerald shimmers.

Yes, I can be seductive.
The demon wouldn’t know what hit him when she turned on the charm….

Once he’d eaten his catch—with exaggerated relish—and cleaned up the food, she waited a bit, commenting on the night and weather, then said, “My arms ache, Rydstrom.” She flexed her fists for effect. “They’ve been asleep for so long.”

When he gave her an appraising glance, she probed to read his mind, but he had those blocks firmly in place.

“I have a deal for you,” he said. “If you answer any questions I ask, I’ll free your arms for an hour.”

She just stopped her lips from curling.
Well, that was easier than I’d figured.
“You have a deal, demon.”