Claimed by a Demon King (44 page)

The whole area stank of blood.

Blood.

Thorne backed away and focused on his, on the connection to Sable that came not only from their bond but from her blood in his body. His kind had the ability to track using blood they had tasted and it would guide him to Sable far quicker than his bond with her.

A connection blossomed within him.

Not Sable.

The feeling was weak when it should have been strong because he had taken blood from Sable recently.

Thorne frowned and looked in the direction his ability had pinpointed.

His eyes widened.

The tall elf male fought like a savage beast, tearing through his dragon enemies with ease, slashing with the vicious claws of his obsidian armour and not giving them a chance to transform into their beast-state. A wide circle of bodies surrounded him. His black helm flared into several spikes, forming a crown atop his head, and his armour hugged his lean figure.

Far leaner than when Thorne had last seen this male.

Vail.

The mad elf prince.

What was he doing here?

The answer became apparent when Vail snarled and shifted course, moving with agile grace to block another male with his bare hands. Olivia. She knelt behind Vail on the ground, clutching her left arm to her chest. Blood caked the side of her face and streamed down her arm. Vail was protecting her.

Thorne growled. What was she doing out here?

Vail twisted his opponent’s arms, bending them outwards, and grinned as an audible crack sounded followed by the agonised cry of his enemy. He kicked the male hard in the stomach, sending him flying backwards into another group of warriors. The vampires turned on the injured male, taking him down.

Thorne needed to call for Loren, knew that the elf prince would want to try to capture his brother, but he couldn’t leave Vail and Olivia. Loren would feel Olivia’s pain as he had felt Sable’s and would come to her, but would it be soon enough to arrive before his brother disappeared again?

He had been keeping an eye on his kingdom over the past lunar cycle, on the lookout for Vail, trying to help Loren bring his brother home. He knew how strongly Loren desired to reunite with him. He had no love for Vail himself, but knew in his heart that the witch Kordula had controlled him, making him do the terrible acts he committed, and he no longer held the elf to blame for the death of his parents.

He needed to find Sable too. He could sense her now, and she was on the move again and her pain was lessening, but she still hurt and he still needed to see her. If he left to seek her out, Vail could turn on any of his army who strayed too close, wanting to help him and thinking he was with the elves. Vail had already taken down at least one vampire who lay in the dead forming a circle around him. He clearly couldn’t distinguish friend from foe.

“Loren. Bleu,” Thorne hollered as loud as he could manage, alerting them in the only way he could without allowing Vail out of his sight.

Vail swept his claws across a male dragon’s throat and stark crimson burst from the slash. The dragon gurgled and flailed, trying to cover the gaping wound with his already bloodied hands, and Vail ruthlessly shoved him away to land in a crumpled heap on top of the others.

Vail turned on Thorne.

He bared his fangs, his purple eyes near-black and not because of the low light. Vail was losing his grip, more maddened now than he had ever appeared when they had fought back in London. Shadows clung to the hollows of his cheeks beneath his helmet and darkened around his eyes, a contrast to his pale skin. His madness had turned into sickness, invading both his mind and his body, threatening to destroy him completely.

Thorne needed to bring Loren to them. Vail needed his brother’s assistance.

Vail shifted his feet, bracing them shoulder-width apart. He hunched forwards, his hands dangling between his bent legs and his shoulders heaving with each heavy breath. The black slats on his helmet swiftly came forwards, forming a mask over the lower half of his face and leaving only his eyes visible in the V above. Blood rolled down his black claws and dripped to the churned earth.

Thorne laid down his broadsword at his feet and raised his hands beside his head. “I mean you no harm, Vail. Remember you met me in the mortal world. I was with your brother. I am not your enemy.”

Vail twitched and his eyes narrowed.

“Vail, no,” Olivia barked as the elf launched himself forwards.

Pale blue light traced over his body and he disappeared. Thorne prepared himself, knowing the elf was coming for him. The male appeared behind him and Thorne arched forwards, bellowing as cold claws cut into his side. Vail snarled close to his ear, dark-sounding things in the elf language, and ripped his claws free. A telekinetic blast hit Thorne in the back, sending him stumbling forwards. Only stumbling. Not flying through the air.

Vail wasn’t fighting hand-to-hand out of choice or purely because of the sadistic pleasure he took from it, satisfaction that shone darkly in his eyes with every blow of his claws and fists that rent flesh and shattered bone.

The male was too weak to use his powers.

Thorne began to turn towards him, preparing himself for the next attack at the same time, willing to take the blows to buy Loren time to reach them. He would have sensed his brother’s presence. He would be coming.

“Vail!” Olivia was on her feet, staggering towards them, reaching for him. “He is a friend.”

Another dark-haired demon loomed behind her and she stilled, slowly turning her head to one side, towards the male.

Vail disappeared from before Thorne and dropped out of the air behind Olivia, landing on the demon’s back and taking him down. The male knocked Olivia forwards and she hit the ground. Vail growled from his position on the demon’s back and grasped the rear of the demon’s head with one hand and one horn with the other, and smashed the male’s face repeatedly against the stony ground. The mask of his helmet peeled back.

Vail’s face twisted into a vicious, cruel visage, his fangs long between his lips and his eyes darkening by degrees.

He continued to bash the unconscious male’s head into the earth, smashing it until Thorne could no longer recognise him as the demon foe who had loomed behind Olivia.

“Vail,” Olivia whispered, slowly pushing herself onto her side, her face a picture of horror. “Please stop.”

Vail snarled at her, shoved the demon’s head into the ground with the one that clasped the back of it and yanked forwards with the other that gripped one of the demon’s horns. It cracked and he ripped it free.

“Vail!” The deep male voice rang out over the battle and Vail lifted his head, his gaze narrowing on a point beyond Thorne.

Thorne turned to see Loren fighting to reach them, Bleu battling at his side. Loren threw his left hand forwards, sending a blast of telekinesis at the foes blocking his path. They flew in all directions and Loren surged forwards, using his blade to take down the next group of enemies and then teleporting closer to his brother. Bleu followed, assisting his prince and taking down any foe the male left untouched, slashing and stabbing at them with his spear. Loren held his side, growled as blood pumped from between his fingers, and gritted his teeth. He teleported again but only made it a short distance before reappearing.

Thorne had to detain Vail. Loren wouldn’t reach his brother in time if he didn’t.

Thorne teleported, appearing directly behind Vail. He slid his arms beneath Vail’s, tightly locked his forearms against the elf’s shoulders, and hauled him off the dead demon. Vail snarled and flailed, lashing out with his claws and catching Thorne’s arms, leaving long gashes in his vambraces.

The male pressed his feet into the ground and launched upwards. The back of his helmet connected hard with Thorne’s nose. Blood burst from it, streaming over his lips. Thorne growled at him and Vail twisted free, landing in a crouch before Olivia. The elf held his hand out behind him, towards her, and bared his fangs at Thorne.

“Vail,” Loren whispered as he reached them and halted a short distance away, breathing hard. Fear flickered across his bloodstained face and he held his hand out to his brother. “Vail?”

Vail turned on him, rising to his feet at the same time, and cast him a pained and fearful look.

Olivia whimpered as she tried to move her arm and Vail’s expression shifted, darkening once more, becoming savage and cruel.

He snarled something at Loren in the elf language.

Loren’s purple eyes shone with something akin to guilt and he reached for Vail.

Vail hesitated.

Thorne held his breath. Would the younger elf allow his brother to help him now?

The war faded around them, the tension in the air rising by degrees as Thorne waited to see what Vail would do.

He took a step towards Loren and swallowed hard, his hands twitching at his sides, as if he wanted to reach for Loren too.

“Son of a bitch! Take this you bitches,” a familiar female voice yelled from behind Thorne and a dazzling blast of purple and blue light erupted off to his left.

Vail’s demeanour instantly changed. He bared his fangs and his eyes went wild, crazed as he swung to face Thorne, looking beyond him to the source of the magical attack.

Light flickered over his body.

“Vail!” Loren rushed forwards.

Vail disappeared.

Loren snarled and glared beyond Thorne, towards Rosalind where she fought behind him. And what in the gods’ names was she doing out here too?

“I was so close,” Loren said in a low tight voice and ground his teeth, his nostrils flaring as he narrowed his gaze on Rosalind. “If it was not for that sorceress!”

Thorne stepped into his line of sight and pressed a hand against his chest, a silent warning not to dare to attack her.

“She is not to be harmed. She has helped me twice now and I owe her much.”

Loren drew in a deep breath and blew it out, and then shoved away from him. He stooped to help Olivia onto her feet and Bleu joined them.

“What did he say?” Olivia asked and Loren’s expression flickered with guilt again.

He sent his armour away from his hands and gently held her face, inspecting the cut on her forehead and then the gash on her arm.

“He berated me for leaving your side,” Loren said and shook his head. “I told you to stay inside, Olivia. Why did you come out here?”

“Rosalind was coming out and I have to be here, I have to help our people.”

Loren growled. “Rosalind is nothing but a pain to me. She has placed you in danger, and she has driven my brother away. I wish her ill fortune.”

“Don’t speak like that. She protected me more than once and she’s out here fighting when she’s never taken a life before. She wanted to help. I wanted to help.” Olivia placed her hands over Loren’s, holding them to her face, and looked up into his eyes. “You’re hurt. I can feel it. I hate feeling it.”

“Do not worry about me, my love. I will heal.”

She didn’t look as if she believed him. She swept the tangled mess of her dark hair away from the left side of her throat, baring it to Loren.

“Drink. You need your strength. You need to heal. Don’t give me any bullshit about being fine. I can feel you, Loren.” She dropped her gaze to his side and her eyebrows furrowed as she reached out and touched the deep wound there. Tears lined her lashes and she lifted her eyes back to Loren’s. “Drink. Heal. And then you can be mad at me all you want.”

Loren’s expression softened and he sighed, gently stroked her cheek and nodded. He lowered his head towards her neck and Thorne looked away, giving them some privacy and making sure no one attacked them while they were vulnerable. He would thank Olivia later. He needed her mate strong and capable, and her observations had been right. He had been weakening because of the wound. Bleu kept his back to them, his spear at the ready and his purple eyes locked on the battle raging around them.

Thorne reached out with his senses, needing to feel Sable and feel that she was still alive out there, somewhere. He wanted her back in his arms, held close to him as Olivia was to Loren. He wanted to ask Bleu and Loren whether they had seen her but held his tongue.

Something told him that if Bleu discovered that Sable was injured and he had lost track of her, that Loren wouldn’t be the only mated male receiving harsh words from an elf.

Loren drew back from Olivia and Bleu turned to face them.

“Bleu.” Loren didn’t take his eyes off Olivia’s, not even when Bleu halted at his side. “You are to take Olivia back to the castle. Understood?”

“But—” Olivia started.

“No!” Loren barked and frowned down at her. “This is no place for you, Olivia. I cannot fight knowing that you are out here. What if Vail had not been watching us? What then?”

She paled and looked away, tears forming on her lashes. “I would be dead.”

Loren closed his eyes and pressed his lips to her forehead. “Swear to me you will not leave the castle again.”

“But Sable… we were separated. I have to find her.”

“I will find her. I was searching for her when I found you,” Thorne put in and she looked across at him. “Men will be returning to the castle and will need your aid.”

He knew better than to command her to return. She was like Sable in many respects. He needed to give her reason and a purpose, something to do to help, not order her as Loren did. Although Thorne knew the male only issued those orders to protect her and keep her safe from harm.

Olivia nodded and Loren slowly released her. He dropped another kiss on her brow and lingered there. For a man who wished his female away from battle, he seemed reluctant to let her go.

Loren took a step back and Bleu came forwards, took hold of Olivia’s good arm and disappeared with her.

“I am sorry I could not stop your brother,” Thorne said and picked up his broadsword.

Loren shook his head.

“I fear he is worse now than ever. I have never seen him so far gone, lost to the dark things that haunt him.” Loren stared into the distance, bright colourful flashes reflecting in his violet eyes as the war raged there, the battle intensifying as men fell and fresh soldiers replaced them, boosting the dwindling numbers on both sides.