Claimed by a Demon King (15 page)

Was he just supposed to claim her?

It was the way of most of his kind. When they found their eternal mate, they would attempt to secure her love, would quickly grow bored of trying and would simply claim her. His father had done such a thing to his mother and they had turned out well. He had never seen another pair of mates who were as loving and affectionate as they had been.

Thorne shoved aside thoughts of claiming Sable against her will. She might like it when he was rough and commanding with her, but she would hate him if he imposed a claim upon her, making her immortal without her consent.

“The female is aware that she belongs to you?” Fargus said, cutting back into his thoughts.

“She is not… or perhaps she is. I told her that she was mine.” And he had kissed her, and then she had slapped him and threatened to leave. All in all, that encounter had not been a success.

“You have not stated your intention to claim her, and you allow unmated males to speak and show attention to her. Do you not want to claim the female?”

Thorne’s lips peeled back on a snarl. What he wanted to do was remove Fargus’s head from his body. How dare he berate him about this? He pulled the reins on his temper before it slipped beyond his control and he ended up doing something he would regret. Fargus only meant to help him with his problem.

“I wish it more than anything, but I am… she is… difficult. I do not think a normal courtship would work on her.”

Mostly because a normal courtship often ended with the demon male imposing a claim and bond upon their female, binding them in restraints if necessary and doing it by force. If he did that, Sable would seek his head and he would gladly give it to her, unable to deny her anything.

Her gaze went back to Lord Van der Garde.

Thorne’s temper frayed and the tethers holding his anger at bay snapped.

“I need air,” Thorne said and was crossing the room towards the doors to the balcony before he did something stupid, fighting his urge to divert his course and head towards the vampire instead.

He had warned everyone that he wouldn’t tolerate violence amongst the species and Grave was the commander of over one hundred men. Men that Thorne needed. If he attacked the vampire, he would leave and his men would go with him.

Thorne strode through the arched doorway and onto the wide balcony that ran the length of the room. Cooler air wrapped comforting arms around him and he breathed deep of it, seeking calm. He kept his back to the room to stave off the temptation to watch Sable and leaned his forearms on the stone balustrade, staring off into the dark distance beyond the high, wide walls of his castle and the silhouetted trees there.

He needed a moment alone, away from the other males and seeing her gaze upon them.

Each of her curious glances and lingering stares flickered through his mind, wearing his mood down and stealing his focus until the distance turned hazy and he lost awareness of the world around him.

“Is it always this dark in your land?”

Thorne’s gaze shot to his left and widened.

Sable leaned there, her eyes flitting over the landscape and then the grounds below them.

He stared at her, certain that he was dreaming and that she hadn’t really left the room to be here with him, alone in the dark.

The urge to gather her into his arms and kiss her came over him, stronger than ever, commanding him to obey. He could see it all playing out in his mind. He would draw her into his embrace, until she nestled against his chest, her palms pressing into his pectorals and burning him through his shirt. She would tip her head back and her lips would part, inviting him to dip towards her and claim them as his own. He would kiss her then, and wouldn’t stop until she felt the same pressing and fierce need as he did. The same burning desire.

It wouldn’t end well.

Would attempting to kiss her only result in her leaving?

He didn’t want her to leave. He wanted her to stay and he wanted to kiss her, and he couldn’t see why he couldn’t have both things. She desired him. She had kissed him back in the hallway outside his quarters. She had only pushed him away and slapped him when his fangs had emerged and he had held her tighter. Perhaps he had frightened her and made her feel she wasn’t the one in control.

If he kissed her softly and let her take the lead, would she kiss him again or push him away?

A touch of colour stained her cheeks. “If you keep staring at me in silence, I’m going to go back inside.”

“It is always dark,” Thorne rushed out, unwilling to let her carry out that threat.

She curled her lip and he had the impression that she didn’t like his realm.

Thorne looked at it, trying to see it through her eyes. It was gloomy, made of rough blackened rock and soil that could support plant life, but nothing as colourful as that in her world.

“It is not so dark in the day,” he said and her gaze came back to him, burning into the side of his face, making him yearn to look at her. He kept his eyes on his lands instead, letting her drink her fill of him. Did she think him handsome? Or as dark and grim as his realm? “We depend upon the elves for much of our grains, but we have improved the soil in many districts of the realm, enough to grow vegetables for the females.”

He pointed towards the jagged treetops beyond the castle walls.

“There are many forests in the land, rich with green pines and animals. I saw flowers growing there once.”

“Flowers in Hell?” She sounded curious.

He risked a glance at her and she looked it too, her eyes brighter than he had ever seen them.

He nodded. “This world is not as bright or colourful as yours, Sable, but there is life here and I have taken great pains to improve this realm for my people.”

She looked off into the distance again and he didn’t think she could see the lengths he had gone to in order to make this realm a good place for everyone who lived in it. She knew only her world, the elf kingdom and this realm, and his was meagre and grim in comparison to those bountiful lands.

It pained him.

How was he meant to win the heart of a female who looked upon his land with disgust?

“Don’t you miss the sun?” she said.

Thorne shook his head and cast his gaze up at the darkness above. “You cannot miss what you do not really know.”

He didn’t wholly believe that. There were things that he didn’t know but that he felt he missed in his life.

Female companionship.

Love.

Sable.

She glanced at him again and then looked at the lands below.

“You cannot see them in the darkness of night, but there are farms and the forest over yonder.” He bit his tongue, remembering how she had mocked him when he had last used the word ‘yonder’, making him feel old for the first time in his long life.

He picked at the balustrade with his claws, trying to think of something he could say to make her think better of his land and of him.

Nothing came to him.

Sable didn’t seem to know what to say either. She toyed with a bandage around her wrist and how had he not noticed it before? He frowned at it and reached towards her, and she stilled when he gently placed his hand under hers and lifted it.

“Did you hurt yourself?” He stroked the length of the bandage with his other hand and she shook her head, her eyes locked on his face. He raised his to meet them. They were round and beautiful, beguiling. A male could lose himself in them and never want to come back.

“Just a knock,” she said but didn’t seem sure.

She took her arm from him and rubbed her wrist. It wasn’t the first time she had done that.

Silence fell over them again as he stared at her, the conversation dying as he struggled to find something else to say. If he spoke of his victories, would it impress her? If he asked about hers, would it please her?

She walked the fingers of her left hand along the balustrade towards him, her gaze locked on them, intent and focused. When they reached his right hand where it rested on the stone, she didn’t stop. She walked her fingers over the back of it and lingered.

Thorne’s heart beat harder and he burned where she touched him. He couldn’t take it. It was too much. She was asking too much of him, expecting him to keep control while she touched him. He wanted to touch her too.

She sighed, took her hand away, and glanced at him. Her eyes fell back to the balustrade and the courtyard below, and he cursed himself for remaining quiet for so long. Now the silence was so thick and choking that he couldn’t find his voice to break it.

Sable looked as tense as he felt and only seemed to be growing more anxious.

He opened his mouth to speak.

She whirled to face him, the swift action startling him.

“Something has been bugging me and I need to know… what had you wanted to say at the cafeteria?”

Thorne frowned. “Cafeteria?”

She sucked down a sharp breath and nodded. “After we had defeated the bitch-witch and you teleported us all back to Archangel… and you…”

She looked down at her arm and he recalled the moment she spoke of, could feel the heat of her skin on his palm just as he had that night when he had held her arm.

She raised her gaze back to his. “What had you wanted to say?”

Thorne looked over her head towards the distance, gazing out at the shadowy land.

He was a king. He was a male.

She was his female.

His fated one.

He would speak the words without hesitation or fear.

He was a king. A male. Her male.

Thorne lowered his gaze to her and looked deep into her eyes.

“I meant to ask you to come with me to my kingdom, and now you are here.”

A touch of colour darkened her cheeks but she didn’t look away. She bravely held his gaze and whispered, “I am.”

Thorne wanted to ask her whether she would have consented had he asked her back then, but his nerve failed. Silence fell over them again, growing thicker by the second.

Sable swallowed audibly and moved a step closer to him, gaining all of his attention. He could feel her heat and with it came the desire to touch her again, to possess her beautiful curves and draw her into his embrace.

“I heard something funny… do you want to hear it?” she said and he nodded, pleased that she desired to share something with him and taking it as a positive sign. She sidled even closer and he bit back a groan as her thigh brushed his. She whispered, “There’s a vampire called Grave and he has a brother called Night!”

Thorne did not find that or her carelessness amusing. “It is no laughing matter, Little Female. It would be unwise to make a joke of this male. He is liable to kill you.”

“You sound like Loren,” she muttered in a disappointed tone, her expression sobering, and then added, “The vampire has no sense of humour?”

Thorne shook his head. “None.”

Sable shrugged, shifting her long black hair with it. “Anyone with that name should have developed a sense of humour about it. It’s a stupid name.”

“And what name would that be?” The deep male voice came from Thorne’s left and Sable tensed.

Thorne casually turned to face Grave. “Bleu… the elf commander. What manliness is there to be found in such a weak, feminine name?”

Grave flashed partially extended fangs in a grin. “What indeed? A weak name. A strong female requires a strong name also… who might this be?”

“Mine.” Thorne growled and stepped in front of Sable, shielding her from Grave’s inquisitive gaze.

“Now, now. I was only making pleasant conversation, my king.”

Thorne didn’t like the sarcastic edge to his voice. Did he really need the vampires? He wanted to crush Grave’s head in his hands and it might just be worth it.

Sable stepped out from behind him. “I don’t recall being anyone’s possession. My name is Sable, huntress of Archangel, slayer of vampires.”

Grave tossed her a toothy smile and Thorne itched to punch him until he had no fangs to flash at his female.

“Only because you have never met a pureblood. Still, your confidence is amusing, and you certainly seem to have a way of bringing males to their knees. Perhaps you would like to test your talents on one of my men? Perhaps me? I would gladly tussle with you, Little Mortal.”

Thorne growled low in his throat, his top lip peeling back off his emerging fangs. His horns curled and his muscles expanded, his rage burning through his restraint and seizing control of him.

“The female is not here to fight vampires and she falls under my protection. If you or any of your men attempt to harm her or goad her into a fight, I will personally see to it that you all die.” Thorne took a step towards the vampire and rose to his full height, towering over the slender male.

Grave’s smile didn’t falter and he held his gaze in a calm, cold manner. Thorne didn’t back down and hoped that Sable held her tongue and didn’t choose this moment to throw one of her usual barbs at her enemy.

She surprised him by remaining silent and edging closer to him. Had she sensed what he could?

Grave might appear calm, but the darkness within him was rising to the fore, his terrible bloodlust slowly seizing control of him. One wrong move or word on his or Sable’s part and Grave would lose his head to it, becoming a wild beast with only violence and blood on his mind.

The vampire’s pupils stretched, beginning to turn elliptical, and crimson flooded his irises.

Grave tipped his chin up. “Remember, Third King, that it is better to have me on your side than as your enemy. No female is worth your kingdom. They are treacherous creatures. You think you stand on solid ground… think again.”

Another male vampire emerged from the room behind Grave. “Sir, the demon commander requests your presence.”

Grave held Thorne’s gaze and seconds ticked by, the silence strained and more oppressive than it had ever been between Thorne and Sable. She remained tucked behind him, her heart pounding in his ears and her nerves flowing over him.

The vampire commander turned away and stalked towards the arched doorway.

Sable launched past Thorne, her blade in her hand. He grabbed her wrist and yanked her back. She growled at him and struggled to break free of his grip. He tightened it, trying not to hurt her but unwilling to let her escape and carry out her foolish plan.