Текст книги "Prince of Demons"

Автор книги: Nora Ash

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5

Georgia

When she came to, she was alone in the room.

Disoriented, Georgia blinked against the dull light from the singular bulb, the memory of the past few hours slow to return.

The second it did, horror followed.

She jerked upright, a small burst of relief that leather straps no longer tied her to the bench doing little to calm her.

The room seemed undisturbed, save for a bucket next to the bench. It took her a moment to gather its purpose.

Great. But why would she be spared the humiliation of having to use a grimy plastic bucket as a toilet? It wasn’t like the demon asshole who’d trapped her had held back on the indignities so far.

Her pants and underwear still lay carelessly tossed on the floor by the foot-end, but when she swung her legs over the edge to get them, something rubbed against her clit, sending a shock of sensation through her.

The ring.

Georgia hadn’t been very old when she’d realized that seeing monsters no one else could was upsetting to her mother, and so, she’d learned to hide her fear. She wouldn’t scream when she saw the scaly demon driving the ice cream truck past her house that summer a couple of kids disappeared from the neighborhood, but she still lay awake at night, ever vigilant, in case he came to eat her and Larry, too.

It was only when she got older she realized that the demons roaming the world didn’t always look to murder their victims.

Biting her lip to keep the tears at bay, Georgia reached down to carefully spread her labia.

And there it sat. A small band of silvery metal encircled her still red and swollen clit, forced free of the hood. Entirely bared and unprotected.

Thisis what we want, Jimmy had said. Your helpless little cunt.

Staring at what he’d done to her, she did feel helpless. Whether or not that ring worked like he’d claimed it would, it was concrete proof that when it came down to it, there was nothing she could do to stop these monsters from abusing her however they saw fit.

Up until now, her only protection against them had been that they didn’t know she could see them for what they were. She would never be able to hide from them again.

But this was the cost of Larry’s life. She would pay it. And once he was safe… Somehow, she would find a way to escape. Whatever happened next, she wouldn’t give up hope, and she would get through it.

She would.

Moving stiffly, Georgia climbed off the bench and grabbed for her clothes. The ring didn’t hurt like it had when he’d placed it on her, but there was no escaping the physicality of its firm grasp nor the twinges of too-much sensation against her abused clit. Every step was a sharp reminder of what had been done to her. And what lay ahead.

Waiting for news on Larry—and what came after—was a special kind of torture. The metallic clank of the door handle made Georgia jerk upright, a bolt of adrenaline pulling her from her quiet misery.In the seconds from the click of the door handle moving to the door swinging open, panic squeezed her lungs. She wasn’t ready for this. And what if…

What if they hadn’t been able to save him, after all?

One of the big goons stepped through the door. Irral, she was pretty sure.

“Is my brother okay?” She jumped down from the bench where she’d been sitting while she waited, forcing the question out despite her naked fear at the answer.

The demon grimaced, showing off sharp fangs. “Fuck your brother. Come with me, now.”

Georgia blinked. “What? No! That was the deal—you can’t do anything to me until he’s healed!”

He scoffed and stepped into the room, clawed hand outstretched to grab her. She shrank back from him, eyes widening when it dawned on her that she had no way of forcing these monsters to stick to the contract. They could tie her up in one of those awful booths, and there would be nothing she could do about it. How could she have been so stupid to trust they’d honor their word?

“Breeder.” Irral’s voice was a low growl, frustration mixing with impatience. But much to her surprise, he stopped his advance. “If you don’t come with me, you’ll spend the rest of eternity with your legs spread, wishing your brother had never been born. His death is nothing compared to what awaits you here. I promise you that.”

“Are you…” She frowned when it dawned on her what he was doing. “You want to break me out of here? Now? Why? I thought—” She stopped as the memory of Jimmy telling Irral he’d get to have ‘a go’ with her flashed through her brain. How he’d seemed perfectly okay with her fate. “This is a trick? Is that it? You are going to lure me out of here so you can take what you want without your boss interfering?”

Irral bared his fangs in another grimace. “Of course not! You’re a Breeder. I may be Jimmy’s man, but what he’s got planned for you… It isn’t right. Your destiny is to birth us sons—not to lie bound on your back, servicing unworthy scum like a common whore.”

“And being a broodmare is better?” She didn’t try to keep the indignation, the horrified incredulity out of her voice.

“Yes.” He didn’t elaborate, but the look on his face as he stared at her made her swallow thickly. He might be a demon, he might be lying to her face for all she knew, but the tightness around his eyes suggested otherwise.

Georgia drew in a deep breath, trying to steady her reeling mind. She wanted to escape what Jimmy had in store for her more than almost anything. And no doubt, even if Irral planned to squirrel her away to breed her, escaping him would likely be easier than Jimmy. But…

“I can’t go with you until I know Larry will be okay. Perhaps after⁠—”

“Once he’s been healed, I won’t be able to get you out. The second the contract’s complete, Jimmy owns you. There is no escaping him after that. So we go—now—or you will have to stay here. Forever.” Irral held out his hand toward her, his frightening features softening into something like a plea. “Trust me when I tell you that no one is worth the fate that awaits your here, Breeder. Not even this brother of yours.”

Her pulse throbbed in her throat as she stared at his offered hand. She couldn’t choose her own life over her brother’s. It felt… so wrong to even contemplate it. But the horror creeping up her spine at the demon’s plea was hard to push down.

“Look, I am taking you to the Prince of Demons. He is the strongest of our kind on the Eastern Seaboard, and he will make sure you are protected. You can bargain with him for your sibling, if you must,” Irral said, urgency coloring his words. “But you cannot stay here. Come with me.”

6

Kesh

“There’s a demon at the gates who insists on seeing you. Says it’s urgent.”

Kesh sighed deeply, pulling his attention from the war map he’d been trying to update with the latest news of their enemies’ movements.

“More urgent than stopping the Europeans from taking Maine?” Kesh asked, his voice deceptively gentle.

Mallorn, accustomed to his lord’s ways, took a slight step back, bringing him out of arm’s reach. “I said you were busy. I more than hinted at what happened to the last underling who claimed an emergency and found you disagreed. He still insists.”

Kesh growled, scrunching the map in his fist as irritation flared hotly. “Do these fools not realize the importance of what we’re doing? How fucking close we are to annihilation? Why must they pester me with their petty squabbles? Who do I have to disembowel to get some peace?”

“Weight of the crown, I’m afraid,” Mallon said, infuriatingly uncowed by his lord’s anger. “He’s waiting outside the throne room.”

Kesh shot him a glare and straightened up. “Fine. Take five troops to Maine. Tell our warriors I’m sorry I can’t help take down the invaders—I have a fucking contract dispute to settle, or whatever the hell it is this time.”

The throne room still looked like the casino it had been up until recently. His men had done a decent job at taking out the gambling tables and slot machines, but the bar still remained along the eastern wall, and the stains of alcohol and stench of desperation weren’t coming out of the carpet no matter how many times Mallorn had had it dry cleaned.

Kesh strode to the throne—and imposing chair bolted to the hastily constructed dais—and slung himself down, propping a foot on one armrest as he drummed his irritation into the other.

This was the part of the job he hated the most. If he’d known how much time he’d have to spend playing referee for minor demons bitching about someone screwing them over in contract negotiations, or listen to some lord or another wax poetic about how he thought the Kingdom should be run—or, stars forbid, try to curry favor with the prince—there was no way Kesh would have helped his brother claim the Americas.

“Right. Send him in,” he growled, motioning for the man guarding the door to open it.

The guard obeyed, pulling the painted-over glass door open with more pomp and circumstance than the situation required. Kesh swallowed his annoyance—the guy was doing his job. Ceremony was part of the illusion needed to claim a kingdom.

The man who entered looked like your standard low demon, more muscle than true power. Not exactly known for their interest in contracts. And one hundred percent not capable of having the sort of problems that’d be worthy of Kesh’s attention.

“What do you want?” Kesh growled, staring holes through the demon’s skull as he imagined hanging him from the rafters by his tongue.

“I… I bring you a gift, your Highness.” The slight quake in his voice betrayed his unease at standing before the prince.

“A gift?” an outraged voice squawked. “What the hell do you mean, a gift?”

Kesh blinked, focusing on the human girl he’d barely noticed when the demon first entered. She was tall, for a human female, with unkempt dark hair, dark circles under her eyes and something between terror and fury plastered across her pale features.

“A gift?” he parroted, turning his attention back to the demon. “You demand an audience with the Prince of Demons to give me a human? Have you lost your mind?”

“She’s a Breeder, Highness,” the demon said. “I wouldn’t have disturbed you from your important work if she wasn’t in desperate need of your protection.”

Kesh blinked again, his gaze turning back to the female. “A Breeder?”

“Yes, my lord.” The demon pushed the girl forward, despite her obvious reluctance. “I… found her. She sees us for what we are.”

“And you didn’t keep her?” Kesh arched an eyebrow, but kept his gaze on the girl, who was staring back at him, chin thrust out in defiance despite her wide eyes betraying her terror.

“N-no, my lord. That would be treason. I would never⁠—”

Kesh silenced him with a raised hand. He knew the fucking laws—his brother had written them.

A Breeder.

He sent his Breeder sister-in-law a less than grateful thought. She might be the new queen, but she was also a gigantic pain in the ass. And the reason for the whole bloody war.

But of course, Selma was a Pure Breeder—the only human females capable of not only surviving sex with a demon lord, but also carrying his spawn. This sorry little thing might be exactly what he didn’t need to deal with right now, but at least she’d be out of his hands soon enough.

If she even was a Breeder.

“If you consider me worthy, Your Highness, I would be most grateful to be considered among her suitors,” the brawny demon said.

“I’m sure you would.” Kesh sighed deeply and scrubbed a hand over his face, wishing his idiot brother hadn’t rewritten the laws concerning Breeders, and motioned for her to step forward with a flick of two fingers. “Come on. Let’s have a look, then.”

The girl didn’t move—only kept her blue eyes locked on him, the stubborn set of her chin wobbling.

Kesh narrowed his eyes at her disobedience. He leaned forward on the throne and ground through gritted teeth, “Come. Here. Now.”

She stumbled a step forward, as if jerked along by a chain, and Kesh leaned back, his smoldering temper calming ever so slightly.

The girl paused for a second, but the command in his gaze made her continue forward and up the dais, one hesitant step at a time until she stood in front of him. Her body shook ever so slightly as she stared at him, and her fear wafted against his nostrils, stirring a delicate sensation of unrest in his gut.

Ugh. Not a promising start.

Kesh pushed his foot off the armrest and reached for the girl. She might be taller than most human females, but she still only came to around eye-height with him when he was seated.

Her eyes went impossibly wider at the approach of his hand, and she tried to jerk away with a startled squeak, but she wasn’t nearly fast enough. Kesh wrapped his fingers around her throat and brought her closer, ignoring her clawing to get out of his grip.

He pushed his index finger up, forcing the girl’s head up and to the side, and buried his nose in her exposed neck.

Instantly, his senses were alight with a wash of scents, smells of other demons, hospitals. Human decay and chemicals clawed at his throat. But behind that…

Kesh closed his eyes and drew in another deep breath, his skin prickling with the sensation of her hair brushing against his face. Her fear was the strongest of the scents that belonged to her and not other pollutants she’d come across. It was thick and acrid and made him growl before he could stop himself.

She whimpered at the sound, and he huffed with irritation and breathed in again.

There was warmth underneath that fear. Something sultry and rich, tangled with something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Mindlessly, he sniffed her again, pulling her closer to his body to find the source of that enthralling scent.

She whimpered again and pushed against him, babbled some unimportant words of protest, and he smothered his annoyance at her resistance by wrapping her closer to his body, quelling her squirming with the strength of his arm around her back.

She was soft and warm against his chest, the press of her breasts and the small gasps of her breath sending fissures of excitement through his skin. He breathed her in, taking in greedy gulps, wishing he could wash away her terror so its scent wouldn’t disrupt those beautiful notes underneath. It was disturbing, her fear—making unease spread from his gut to his blood, until all he could comprehend was how he needed her to be content.

“You’re safe,” he rumbled, his lips brushing over her skin and raising goosebumps along the slender column in his grip. Mindlessly, he loosened his grip on her throat, brushing his hand along her back to calm her.

The girl spluttered, outrage tingeing the sounds—and then, without warning, sharp pain bloomed through his arm.

Kesh jerked back, more from surprise than anything else, and blinked down at the little creature in his grasp. Her blunt teeth were still firmly lodged in his forearm from where she’d bitten him.

What…?

It was only then he realized what he’d done. He stared down at the woman in his arms in horror, sick dread clenching in his gut. He’d wrapped himself around her body like a fucking meat shield, the urge to protect and soothe still thundering in his blood, making his temples throb and his cock ache.

“Shit,” he muttered, pushing her off his lap hard enough to make her stumble a few steps backward, nearly tripping down the two steps of the dais.

Yeah. She was a Breeder, alright. One of the few human women capable of bearing a demon’s offspring. And so fucking valuable, even the war would have to wait while he prepared her for a mate.

There’d been a time, before his brother took control of the Americas, when specialized Procurers would seek out and train these women, then auction them off to the highest bidder. But since Kain had met Selma, that was no longer how things were, because stars forbid anything be simple. His brother had literally gone to war with the previously reigning family to protect his mate—and by extension, the whole sub-race of sweet-scented little cunts she was part of.

These days, any potential Breeder was to be brought to the nearest lord, who would then be responsible for gentling the woman into her new life and finding a suitable mate for her.

And Prince or not—Kesh was the only lord within a fifty-mile radius.

He scrubbed his face with both hands, trying to steady himself from the onslaught of her scent as he gathered his thoughts. He’d have to ring and mark her, find some unlucky sod who be more than willing to spend the rest of eternity getting mind-fucked by her pheromones, somehow persuade her to allow a mating, and at the same time, while he was preoccupied with playing matchmaker not lose the entire fucking eastern coast to the European king.

He should have left his brother to rot in the old queen’s prison.

Of course, then he’d have been responsible for Selma.

Kesh suppressed a shudder at the thought of claiming his brother’s mate as his own and refocused on the current clusterfuck at hand.

The girl was huddled at the edge of the dais, seemingly too scared of him to try to run away, yet clearly not in any hurry to get closer either, and when he tore his gaze from her to address the sorry demon who’d brought him this nightmare, he found the rest of the throne room empty, save the guard.

“Where the fuck did he go?” he snarled at his guard, getting to his feet to take up pursuit. The Breeder stumbled another step back at the sudden movement, lost her balance—and fell down with a hard thump.

Without thought, Kesh took the stairs in one leap, kneeling by her side to cradle her head in his hand as he ensured she wasn’t hurt.

“Don’t touch me!” she hissed, cringing away from him. She pushed herself along the rug, scrambling to put distance between them.

“He left, your Highness,” the guard said.

“I can fucking see that,” Kesh growled, irritation flaring in his veins, both at the renewed smell of the Breeder’s fear and his own inability to hunt down the demon who dropped her off. He had questions—but the girl was obviously not in a good state. And his first priority was to calm her down.

“Curse it all,” he muttered, finally straightening up and taking a couple of steps back, putting enough space between himself and the girl to hopefully calm her down. If she was an unmarked Breeder, she’d be able to see his true form. Even if she’d been among demons before—which her scent suggested—he knew he would be frightening, his features much less human than most lowly demons’.

“Is she truly a Breeder, my lord?” the guard asked, the note of longing in his voice unmistakable. Kesh rolled his eyes—at least it’d be easy enough to find a man willing to mate her.

“Yes,” he bit out. “And you will tell no one. Understand? We don’t need the entire territory to be distracted.”

“I would never,” the man said, sounding more than a little aghast at the suggestion he might betray his prince.

Kesh sighed, shooting him a glance over his shoulder. He’d hand-picked every single man in his service. He knew they would never betray their loyalty to him.

“My lord...” the guard began.

“Once she is settled, I will put you on the list of potential suitors, Sefron,” Kesh said, returning his focus to the girl still huddled on the floor. “Now, go. Bring food to my private residence.” He wrinkled his nose as he looked the Breeder over, for the first time noticing how grimy she was. “And draw a bath, too.”

“At once, my lord.”

The sound of the doors closing behind Sefron echoed through the throne room, leaving Kesh alone with the Breeder.

7

Georgia

Georgia had seen a lot of demons in her life, but she’d never met one remotely as terrifying as the prince.

He was covered in reddish-black scales, black horns curving from his skull in an imposing arc, and his eyes were black as empty voids. But more than anything, it was the sheer size of him that had her struggling to control her panic.

He had to be more than eight feet tall with the muscular build to match, and the odd hum of power that seemed to vibrate off him made her hairs stand on end. It was like being in the presence of a nuclear bomb—with a temper.

Georgia stared mutely up at the giant demon, too terrified to move or get off the floor, but the prince didn’t return her gaze. Muttering under his breath, he fished out a phone from his pocket and began… texting? Georgia glanced at the device, startled by the sight of the modern gadget in the giant monster’s huge hands. If he’d looked even slightly less menacing, it would have been an amusing juxtaposition.

This was supposed to be her savior? Georgia swallowed thickly as she watched the behemoth. The hairs on her body still stood on end from the sensation of his breath against her skin when he’d sniffed her. She had absolutely no doubt that if this monster decided to rape her, she’d not survive it.

The prince finished his text and shoved his phone back in his pocket before he finally rounded on her again.

She shrank back against the carpet on instinct when those void-like eyes landed on her, her breath hitching in her throat. “D-don’t hurt me.”

She didn’t know why the ridiculous plea bubbled past her lips—he was a demon, and as far as she knew, hurting people was the entire purpose of their existence.

The prince arced both eye-ridges. “Don’t hurt you?” He snorted, and she could have sworn exasperation flicked across his harrowing features. He opened his mouth as if to say more, but seemed to think better of it. With a deep sigh, he rubbed a clawed hand over his face and sank into a crouch several feet from where she was huddled. “You have nothing to fear, little one. Nothing bad will happen to you.”

Georgia eyed him suspiciously. His voice had changed pitch entirely, the gruff boom of it now sweetly cajoling. He sounded exactly like she did when trying to lure her mom’s cat into his carrier for a vet visit.

“Then let me go,” she said, tipping her chin up in an attempt to project strength she didn’t feel.

He huffed another breath. “I would love to. But I can’t. Thank your friend who dropped you off in my lap. I certainly plan to, if he ever has the bright idea to cross my path again.” His voice had lost some of its dulcet tones to an acrid note.

Was he… annoyed at her presence? She blinked, the small burst of injustice that the giant monster who had her in his claws seemed inconvenienced at her plight gave way to a burst of wild hope.

“No one… No one has to know. I won’t tell anyone, and I’m sure Irral is long gone.”

The prince stared blankly at her for several seconds before he raised his hand to rub at the bridge of his nose. “No one has to know?” he parroted. “You don’t know what you are, do you?”

Georgia hesitated, that uncomfortable word Jimmy and his bodyguards had called her echoing in her mind. There was no way she was saying that out loud. She didn’t need the giant monster getting any ideas that she was on board with its implications.

“Right. Of course the prick didn’t explain anything. Why would he, when he could just drop you off on my doorstep?” The demon drew in another deep breath. “You see us for what we really are, yes? Horns, fangs, claws, et cetera?”

She nodded, eyes darting to the black, curved horns atop his head.

“Women who can see through our human disguise are rare. You’re what we would call… compatible. We value your companionship immensely.” He gave her a tight smile that did nothing to quell her unease. “And for that reason, it is my duty to protect you. There are those that would do you harm for what you are to us. So no. I cannot let you leave.”

Right. Companionship. Georgia narrowed her eyes at the prince. Even if she hadn’t experienced exactly what kind of companionship his kind was interested in, it was pretty obvious that he was glossing over some major details.

“I’ll take my chances. I’ve managed on my own so far.”

The demon’s smile tightened until scary-looking fangs popped out from below his lips. If it was meant as a comforting gesture, it wholly missed the mark. “You’ve been lucky. You won’t continue to be so. My men are loyal and will keep your presence in my domain a secret for as long as I request it. The scumbag who brought you to me? Less likely. And the second word gets out about you, darling, you’ll be hunted down like a single rabbit by a pack of hungry jackals.”

Georgia swallowed, instinctively cringing away from his menacing words. “I…” Her protest died before she’d voiced it. She knew exactly what Jimmy would do to her if he found her again. The demon prince was the singularly most terrifying creature she’d ever laid eyes on, and he was most definitely not being forthright about his plans for her, but… He might still be better than the alternative. Irral had certainly believed so, or he wouldn’t have risked his superior’s wrath to bring her here.

Defeat slumped her shoulders and pressed down on the knot of guilt and despair that had festered in her stomach since her mother had told her that Larry was dying. She had failed them both. And Mike. And for what? A more comfortable cage?

The tears came unbidden and without warning. Grief cracked through her esophagus and up her windpipe, releasing through her throat in loud, ugly sobs.

“What are you doing?” The demon croaked, the sound of alarm in his voice making it pitch. “Stop that!”

Through the tears blurring her vision, she saw his terrifying face pull into a look of pure panic. It seemed so completely out of place on his brutal features, she would have laughed if she’d been capable of feeling anything but heartbreak.

“Stop it!” His voice was a more appropriate, commanding boom this time, but it did nothing to quiet her sobs.

The demon growled under his breath, his fangs showing once more before he crossed the space between them and reached for her.

Georgia yelped, fear spiking through her sadness, but she didn’t manage to flinch away before he dropped to his knees and bulky arms closed around her body and pulled her onto his lap.

Heat enveloped her from all sides, seeping through her clothes and sinking into her skin, making her panicked heartbeat stutter even as she pushed at his impossibly hard chest to escape the uninvited closeness to the monster. “Let me go!”

“Stop. Please, stop.” The pleading note to his voice was wholly unexpected, as was the hesitant way his large hands brushed down her back, almost as if he was fighting some insurmountable compulsion to try to soothe her.

Georgia blinked, her hands stilling against his chest from pure shock. Was he… trying to comfort her?

She looked up at him through the blurry haze of tears—at his massive horns, his black eyes and monstrous face—and saw anguish on those terrifying features.

The prince exhaled a shaky breath, his dark gaze darting over her as if to ensure she was physically unharmed. “Don’t cry. You’re safe. I promise, little one. You won’t be hurt. Please don’t cry.”

He was. For whatever unfathomable reason, the giant, horned monster was kneeling on the stained carpet of his own throne room, holding her like a child in an attempt to comfort her.

Her pain shouldn’t have mattered to him. Heck, he was a demon—he should have delighted in it. But as she stared at him through snot and tears, it was obvious that he, at the very least, desperately wanted her to stop crying. Why, she couldn’t fathom, but the reluctance painted all over his demonic features as he tried to soothe her made it clear this wasn’t a manipulation. No one was that good an actor—not even a demon prince.

Irral’s words came back to her on a wave of desperation. He was the Prince of Demons. The strongest of his kind in the area—but a demon. She could attempt the bargain that had started her journey into this nightmare again.

“My brother is dying.” The horrible words tumbled out of her mouth on a bubble of saliva, pulling a fresh wave of tears with them.

The demon blinked in what looked like a moment’s confusion, but his face immediately broke in dismay at her renewed sobbing.

“Humans die all the time. It’s nothing to be upset about,” he said. Judging from the softness of his voice, she assumed he was still trying to soothe her, but the cruelty in those words did nothing to calm her anguish.

“He’s nineteen! He’s not supposed to die, not yet!” She hadn’t meant to yell, but fury at the injustice of Larry’s illness ignited at the demon’s callousness. “You can save him. Can’t you? You’re a prince. You’re strong enough?”

He stared at her for a long moment, his hands stilling their stroking movements against her back as his features smoothed into stony blankness.

“If you want me to stop crying, if you… If you want me to accept this, you have to save him. I can’t… I can’t live if he dies.” She set her wobbly chin and held his dark gaze, trying to force enough calm through her lungs to stop the grief still making her shake. “You have to.”

The prince let out a slow breath, not breaking her stare. “I have to?”

Where softness had painted his deep voice before, ice had taken its place. Ice, and darkness.

Georgia only barely managed not to shrink away as a new wave of fear washed through her. Whatever mimic of empathy had been present in him before, it was gone now.

“Please,” she croaked. “What you want from me… Companionship. I’ll give it willingly, if you just… Save him.”

“You’re attempting a bargain with the Prince of Demons?” he said softly. “After I have offered you safe haven? My protection?”

“Isn’t that what you do?” There was most definitely an unspoken warning in his silken voice, but for Larry… The prince was terrifying, but if he truly was as reluctant to harm her as he seemed, he was a better fate than the whorehouse. And he was right—if she fled his protection, she would only end up in the hands of Jimmy or someone like him. No matter what she did, she would end up as a companion. If she could save Larry by doing so, she might as well surrender voluntarily.

The demon gave her a hard look. Then he pushed her off his lap and rose up to his full height in an agile move, leaving her huddled alone at his feet and unexpectedly cold without the warmth of his embrace. “I rarely have the need to strike bargains with humans. What I want, I take.”

She swallowed at the implication and silently prayed that his discomfort at her tears meant what she hoped it did. “If you want my compliance, you will save my brother. Do that… and I won’t fight you. Just… don’t hurt me. Please.”