Demon Slave (Shadow Quest Book 2) (22 page)

She wasn’t expecting another vision so soon after the last, but then, she never did expect them. Their sudden frequency was both unsettling and a relief.

Clouds of white faded away. Nadua stood in the familiar coliseum. It was just as she’d left it, though the faces in the crowd were different. Their screams assaulted her senses. Covering her ears did nothing to drown them out.

Fresh welts covered Marik’s back and arms as he fended off the whips. With a roar, he gripped one just as it lashed at him. He yanked hard, causing its owner to surge forward into the bars meant to keep him safe from the demon he was coaxing into a rage.

As the man’s head split by the force of the blow, Marik caught him around the neck, squeezing till his eyes bulged, his body thrashing.

Shaken by the sight, Nadua took a step back. But she couldn’t keep her eyes off Marik.

Baring his fangs, muscles bulging, eyes and horns molten in color, Marik matched perfectly the image of what she imagined a bloodthirsty demon would look like. He was magnificent...and fearsome.

The clamor of the crowd grew deafening while the second guard continued his beating. There was a harsh snapping sound and the body in Marik’s possession went limp. Nadua barked out a cheer, never knowing she could rejoice so thoroughly in the death of another.

Marik dropped the shell of a man, tilting his head to focus his searing gaze on the other. The man hesitated for a second before resuming his assault.

Another entered the fray, taking up the fallen man’s whip and together the two pushed Marik back to the center of the arena. His anguished roar ripped through the coliseum.

Just as before, at the height of Marik’s arresting madness, a female was tossed at his feet. Bile rose in Nadua’s throat. How many times had Marik endured this? She feared the answer.

His chest rose and fell as he gazed down at the woman huddled like frozen prey, awaiting her fate. The crowd began to boo and hiss as Marik stood there.

Confusion was etched in the creases of his wild eyes, mixed with another familiar expression. Desire. Eyes darting, his mind working, he reached for the girl. But when she whimpered in fright, he gave a harsh sound of frustration and backed away.

Suddenly, as if everything were made of some fragile material, the vision faltered. The familiar sound of wind rushed past her ears. In jagged bursts, the arena dropped away, replaced by a harrowing war zone.

Wind whipping through her hair, Nadua stood at the edge of a cliff, one that she recalled from a distant memory. By the vibrant green landscape, blue sky, and two distinct suns, she knew it to be Evlon, her home planet.

The air was choked with flying contraptions, reigning destruction on the land. Below was a frenzy of bodies, tearing viciously at each other.

There were others with her on the cliff. One person she recognized as Marik stood at her back, fending off ugly creatures aside several other towering males.

Most of what she was seeing was blurred as though she were seeing it through solidified fog. Some actions were moving out of sync with others. This was the kind of vision Nadua was used to. A vision of the future. Or rather, as her father would say, “A possibility among possibilities.”

Nothing in the future was a certainty. Everything was changeable, pliable. Like soft dough. If Nadua decided not to continue on with Marik, this future would never exist for her, but it might still transpire for him.

The vision transformed again.

She saw Marik, clawing and snarling, pushing toward her. An army of Cyrellians holding him back. His face twisted into a chasm of malefic intent as he held her gaze. He looked even more enraged than in the arena

Overpowering the soldiers, he lunged.

The vision shattered on a gasp.

Both demons glanced over at her with concern. She reassured them with a wave. Marik looked away first.

Three separate visions at once were rare. And the last two were a conundrum. Was she being shown two possible futures? Either Marik fights with her, or against her, in lieu of some event that has yet to take place? Or, was it a warning of some sort, that she be wary of Marik? Or of doing something that would cause him to seek her life? What could she have done to anger him so?

Since deciphering the visions was nothing more than a guessing game at this point, she might have no choice but to find out.

* * *

From the corner of his eye, Marik watched Nadua’s sleeping form. The gravity of the situation caused his insides to twist painfully. She was his.

His mate.

Now that his mark was on her, there was no denying it. But there was also no taking it back. Since he claimed her during one of his blackouts, he was sure she hadn’t had a choice in the matter.

More twisting.

Of course she’d had no choice; she didn’t even know what it meant.

Marik never fathomed that he could unknowingly do such a thing. How was it even possible? The fact that she was his mate shouldn’t have come as such a shock.

Again he peeked at Nadua, unsure how he could conceivably make this right with her.

Just after she had fallen asleep, Rex put distance between them, out of respect for Marik’s claim on her.

Good man.

His confusion as to why she wasn’t bunking with Marik was evident, as was Marik’s need to bring her to his bed and hold her within the protection of his body. To have her scent clinging to him all night.

But he resisted that urge.

Nadua was angry over the admission that he didn’t remember making love to her. If she were more familiar with his culture, she would be even more livid. Claiming a female against her will was considered an extremely disgraceful and depraved act.

How much more dishonor can I bring upon myself?

Rex seemed to have known Nadua was his from the start, and Marik wanted to know why that was. In Demonish, Marik asked, “How could I not have known she was mine?”

Until it was too late
.

Rex raised his head slightly, responding in kind. “Sounds nice to hear my language spoken again.” He paused, brandishing a sad smile before continuing. “It’s different when a mate is not of our kind. Not as obvious, or easy to accept.”

Marik recalled Sebastian’s turmoil over Anya. “How is it you knew Nadua was mine, when I did not?”

Rex chuckled softly. “Your initial reaction to me, for one. You were on the Edge before you even realized you were awake. Then, afterward, your body language made it clear. You often herd her away from me if she gets too close.”

Marik hadn’t realized, but thinking back, he knew Rex was right.

“
Also, I’ve been witness to a mating such as yours before.”

Interest piqued, Marik motioned for him to continue.

“
When the Kayadon attacked our home planet, I was captured and taken aboard a slave ship, along with several others. While docked at a station, a group of us escaped the slavers and hijacked a nearby ship. The crew was of mixed lineage and we had intended to remove them from the ship at our earliest convenience. But since we were unfamiliar with space at the time, our leader, Orson, struck a truce with their captain.”

Rex picked at the last of his carcass and Marik waited for him to go on.

“
It was uneasy at first, but over time, we grew to depend on each other. All this time my friend, Grayton, acted strangely toward one particular female named Elyra. A dragonshifter. Do you know of their kind?”

Marik nodded.

“
Well, Grayton grew more and more obsessed with Elyra. He tried everything to keep his mind from her, but he could not. None of us thought it was possible to find a mate outside our race, and many believed Grayton was nearing madness. It wasn’t until Elyra made her feeling for him known that Grayton became himself again.” Rex shrugged. “A few weeks later, we were celebrating their matehood.”

Marik digested this. It wasn’t far off from Sebastian’s story. But deep down Sebastian had known, hadn’t he?

I should have known
.

If Marik had had the slightest inkling about Nadua, he would’ve taken better care around her. He wouldn’t have allowed himself to imagine her naked body writhing under his, her screams echoing in his ear. He wouldn’t have been tempted to lose control with her.

He had told Nadua that he didn’t remember what happened between them, and that wasn’t entirely true. He remembered her barely stifled moans, her scent, like a drug, and, ah, gods, her taste. He recalled her soft flesh giving way under his. Being with her had been the most amazing experience of his life.

But then, she had asked him to be still, and he feared he’d hurt her. Flashes of the arena assaulted him...and the rest dimmed to black. When he came to, he was spent and her neck held his mark. Shame had never been so consuming.

Rex interrupted his thoughts. “So, what’s your story? What happened to you after the war?”

Marik lowered his gaze. “I didn’t escape.”

* * *

Ava gave Wren a withered look as he took her hand and gave it a light kiss. Normally she would have done something silly like giggle or blush.

Not today.

“
You look lovely,” he said. He was dressed neatly in his best uniform. His decorative sword tucked by his side.

She didn’t feel lovely. She felt like going back to bed for the next two years. But her aunts and Wren and even Terina, who had held her through the worst of it, were imploring her to make an appearance.

Sr. Baret, with his oh-so-important lineage, had requested the use of the throne room to throw a ball for his daughter’s day of birth. It was a wonder his daughter, Jestina, hadn’t acquired the same sense of entitlement as her father. She was a good friend, and Ava wished she could feel some happiness for her today.

But how could she possibly go down there and see all those people, dancing and being merry, while she had just barely stopped crying over Nadua.

Both of Ava’s aunts stood by the door, impatiently waiting. Idesse, in her tight purple bodice and flowing skirts, and Odette, in her black ensemble with a matching hat woven into her shimmering white locks.

Ava had chosen a simple pale gown.

Odette stepped forward and placed a hand over Ava’s shoulder, giving her an encouraging smile—which ended up looking rather painful. “Avaline, dear, if there is any hope of you keeping your crown, you must retain the support of the Nobles. And that means going to this little party and showing off that pretty face of yours.”

Odette was usually, what Nadua called, a hardcore bitch. And Ava knew she was struggling to show some compassion at the moment.

“
Unless you don’t care that your father wished for you to be queen.”

Ah, there she is
.

With the news of Nadua’s death spreading, the future of the kingdom was quickly becoming uncertain. Peace was tenuous, and nobles were positioning themselves to take her place as proxy. They all expected Ava to announce her recommendation tonight. Then later, she, her nominee, and the highest nobles would meet, and discuss the future of the kingdom.

The last time a decision like this was made was when Nadua took the throne, and she had needed to utilize the army to keep it. Throughout her life, Ava had been in awe of Nadua’s diligence and strength.

Ava had asked her one day how she’d managed it. Nadua’s reply had been, “Whoever controls the army, rules the land.”

It made sense because no one could stand against Nadua. She’d been fierce and confident, but at the same time benevolent. Could anyone rule as well as she had?

Reading her thoughts, Idesse asked, “Who will you choose?”

“
I’ve not yet decided.”

“
You must decide quickly. This decision could affect all of us. This is not a game, child.”

“
I’m well aware, Aunt Idesse, how important this is. If I am to claim my title when I come of age, I must choose someone who will not try to overthrow my rule when it comes time for them to step down.”

But I don’t know who to trust
.

Both her aunts had offered themselves, of course, along with half the kingdom. If only she were a few years older. All of this would be irrelevant.

“
Come, Idesse.” Odette motioned for her sister to leave with her. “Our Avaline will make the right decision.”

When they were gone, Wren held out his arm. “Are you ready?”

“
Give me a minute.” Ava straightened her dress and took a few deep breaths. Then her shoulders slumped. “What should I do, Wren?”

With the crook of his finger, he lifted her chin. “Whatever you do, don’t let them see your fear. A leader must be a source of strength and courage.”

“
But I am neither of those things.”

“
Aren’t you? You have a spunk that cannot be tempered. You’re tenacious when you want to be. Self-possessed and poised when you need to be. And your heart is as true as your father’s.” Taking her arm, they made their way through the hall. “You will make a fine queen one day.”